Ariaxa had learned early that the palace at night was a different creature than the palace by day.
By day, it bustled. Guards marched. Servants whispered. Nobles slithered through corridors thick with incense and rumor.
But at night…
The halls breathed.
The shadows seemed alive.
And tonight, something followed her.
She felt it first — the prickling at the back of her neck, the skin along her spine tightening as she walked from the scriptorium to the harem wing carrying a stack of scrolls. The lantern she held cast a trembling pool of light around her feet.
Behind her: silence.
Ahead: a corridor that stretched too long.
She turned left.
A flicker.
A slip of motion — soft, smooth, impossible.
White silk disappearing behind a pillar.
Ariaxa froze mid-step.
Her breath hitched painfully. No. She’s gone. She’s hiding. She’s furious but she’s hiding—
She forced herself to take another step.
Behind her, something whispered across the floor.
She spun. “Who’s there?”
Only darkness stared back.
A lantern sputtered overhead. Its flame danced erratically, shadows bending like long fingers.
Ariaxa swallowed. “Seren?”
Nothing.
But the silence answered for her.
Silence that felt like eyes watching.
She clutched the scrolls tighter and started walking faster.
***
Mirel found her twenty minutes later sitting on the floor of the bathing chamber, back against the wall, trembling so hard the bowl of water she held wobbled.
“Ariaxa?” Mirel rushed forward, kneeling beside her. “Gods—what’s wrong?”
“She’s here,” Ariaxa whispered shakily. “I saw her.”
Mirel’s face drained of color. “Seren?”
Ariaxa nodded. “I saw white silk around the corner on the east wing. She followed me.”
Mirel hesitated — not with disbelief, but with the burden of knowing more than she’d said.
She lowered her voice. “There have been sightings.”
Ariaxa’s stomach twisted. “What kind of sightings?”
Mirel bit her lip. “Seren has been wandering at night. Not just in the harem wing. In the upper study. The west armory. The nobles’ quarters.”
Ariaxa stared. “She’s not allowed in those wings.”
“No one is,” Mirel whispered. “But Seren moves like a ghost. And… I think she’s meeting someone.”
“Who?”
Mirel looked away. “Nobles. Maybe more than one. Those who despise that the Emperor favors you.”
The warmth drained from Ariaxa’s limbs.
“Why didn’t anyone tell Kaedan?” she whispered.
Mirel gave a small, bitter laugh. “Do you think they haven’t tried?”
Ariaxa blinked. “He ignored them?”
“He said Seren is ‘contained.’” Mirel’s expression tightened. “He doesn’t see how desperate she’s become. Or he refuses to.”
Ariaxa pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. “I need to tell him. I have to.”
“Ariaxa, wait—”
But Ariaxa was already on her feet.
***
She found Kaedan in the war chamber, surrounded by generals and maps and blood-red candles. The room pulsed with tension — the kind that forms when empires begin to crack along their edges.
Riven stood by the door, arms crossed, gaze sharpened.
Kaedan barely noticed Ariaxa as she approached.
“My Emperor,” she said softly.
He didn’t look up. “This is not the time.”
“But I—there’s something important.”
“Everything is important,” he snapped.
Ariaxa flinched.
Riven shot Kaedan a warning glance.
Kaedan exhaled sharply through his nose. “Speak. Quickly.”
Ariaxa clasped her hands to stop their shaking. “It’s Seren. She’s been sneaking through the palace. I saw her tonight. She’s going into forbidden wings. Mirel thinks she’s working with nobles—”
Kaedan cut her off with a flat, distracted, “I will handle her.”
“But—”
“I said,” he growled, “I will handle it.”
Ariaxa felt something sink inside her.
He wasn’t angry at her.
He wasn’t even angry at Seren.
He wasn’t seeing either of them.
Kaedan stabbed a finger at one of the maps. “Riven. The Triarch armies are moving south. The rebels in Elyndor are joining them. They mean to test our borders.”
He barely glanced at her.
“Return to your wing, Ariaxa.”
Her heart burned with something she didn’t have a word for.
It wasn’t rejection.
Not fully.
It was being dismissed.
Set aside.
Forgotten in the shadow of war.
She bowed her head. “Yes, my Emperor.”
As she turned, Riven’s eyes met hers. There was a flicker of apology in them — useless, powerless.
Ariaxa walked out feeling more alone than she had since the night she was collared.
***
That night, the harem slept uneasily.
Whispers drifted through the dark.
“She’s going to kill someone.”
“Kaedan will put her down.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“What if he protects her?”
“What if she kills the Sun Princess?”
Ariaxa lay awake in her thin bed, staring at the ceiling, the air thick with the scent of rose oil and fear.
He didn’t even look at me.
She hated herself for the sting in her chest.
She hated how deeply it cut.
She hated how much she noticed the absence of his gaze, after months of drowning in it.
Sleep came in thin, trembling waves.
Until something tugged her awake.
Her eyes opened slowly.
The dormitory was dark — only the faint blue glow of moonlight seeping through the curtains.
Someone was breathing near her.
Not beside her.
At the foot of her bed.
Ariaxa’s pulse slammed.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, turning her head—
And froze.
Someone sat at the end of her mattress.
A shape carved out of shadow and pale silk.
Ariaxa’s voice snagged in her throat. “Who—?”
The figure leaned forward slightly.
Moonlight slid across a familiar face.
Seren.
Bruised. Trembling. Smiling.
A smile that didn’t touch her eyes.
A smile that whispered I own your fear.
Ariaxa’s breath shattered.
Seren tilted her head, voice a soft mockery of gentleness.
“Couldn’t sleep, little Sun Princess?”
Ariaxa couldn’t speak.
Seren’s smile stretched wider, teeth glinting faintly.
“I thought I’d keep you company.”
She leaned closer, whispering like a lover sharing a secret in the dark.
“After all…”
Her fingers brushed Ariaxa’s ankle through the blanket.
“…we’re not finished.”