Feathers still floated around Ariaxa like pale ash when Seren closed the distance between them, her steps measured, her smile steady, her eyes sharp enough to cut. Ariaxa pressed her back against the wall, her hands trembling at her sides, but Seren lifted a finger and traced an invisible line down the center of her own chest as if savoring Ariaxa’s fear.
“Breathe slower,” Seren murmured. “You smell like terror. He likes that on some nights, but not tonight.”
Ariaxa swallowed and tried to shift away.
“Why are you doing this?”
Seren chuckled, the sound a low ripple of pleasure at Ariaxa’s trembling.
“Because you keep pretending you’re a victim dropped into this world by accident.” She leaned in until her breath brushed Ariaxa’s cheek. “But you’re not an accident. He chose you. And do you know what that means?”
Ariaxa shook her head, her throat tightening.
Seren’s smile widened as she whispered, “It means you’re next.”
Ariaxa’s pulse hammered.
Seren continued, her voice soft but laced with venomous sweetness.
“Do you want to hear about the others? The ones who thought they could survive him?” She dragged her nails lightly down the wall beside Ariaxa’s head. “There was a girl named Veliane once. Lovely. Tender-hearted. She cried for the first three nights. Do you know what Kaedan did?”
Ariaxa’s breath caught.
“I don’t— I don’t want—”
“He tore the will out of her one whisper at a time.” Seren’s eyes glittered. “He broke her until she begged for his boot on her neck. And then he discarded her when she fell too hard.”
Ariaxa’s fingers curled. “Stop.”
“Oh, that was nothing,” Seren continued. “There was another—Rhaelyn. Strong. Fierce. She thought she could fight him. She lasted the longest.” Seren leaned closer, brushing her lips near Ariaxa’s ear without touching. “Three months before she shattered. Three months of screaming until she forgot her own name.”
Ariaxa shuddered. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re next,” Seren purred. “Because you think you’re special. Because you think surviving last night means something.”
Ariaxa clenched her jaw. “It doesn’t.”
Seren laughed, soft and cruel.
“Oh, it does. It means far more than you understand.”
Ariaxa hesitated. “What do you mean?”
Seren’s gaze darkened, her smile thinning.
“Kaedan has never kept a personal slave. Not once. Not in all his years on the throne.” She lifted the broken remains of Ariaxa’s bedding between two fingers. “He might play with us. Use us. Command us. But he has never collared someone with his own hands.” Her voice dropped into a whisper laced with warning. “He did with you.”
Ariaxa’s heart stumbled.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means something dangerous,” Seren cut in. “Something I haven’t figured out yet. But trust me, little sun-thing.” She stepped closer, pressing Ariaxa into the wall. “You should be terrified.”
Before Seren could say another word, someone seized her shoulder and yanked her back.
Mirel forced herself between them, her breath quick and angry.
“Enough, Seren.”
Seren arched a brow. “Protecting her already?”
“She is new,” Mirel shot back. “You know the rules. We do not torment the uninitiated.”
Seren laughed. “Rules are for the weak.”
Mirel lifted her chin. “Then you should follow them perfectly.”
A tense silence crackled between them. Seren smirked once more at Ariaxa, her gaze promising future cruelty, then turned and glided out of the shadows as if she owned them.
Ariaxa exhaled shakily. “Mirel… thank you.”
Mirel touched her arm gently.
“You must not be alone with her again. She senses weakness, and she will press until something breaks.” She guided Ariaxa toward her bed—what was left of it—and began gathering torn silks. “Stay close to me until you learn how to navigate this place.”
Ariaxa nodded, clinging to Mirel’s grounding presence.
That night, the palace came alive with shadows dancing under torchlight as Kaedan hosted a private feast. Ariaxa walked behind Mirel, her steps steady only because the collar threatened pain with every trembling breath. When they entered, the sight hit her like a blow.
Long tables overflowed with dark grapes, roasted meats, crystal goblets of red wine. Nobles lounged on silk divans, their hands sliding over the bodies of harem slaves who knelt, reclined, or lay spread beneath them. Soft moans mingled with laughter. Jewels glimmered on bare skin. Perfume, sweat, and incense mixed into a cloying, intoxicating haze.
And at the center—Kaedan.
He sat on a raised dais, one leg stretched out, the other bent casually. Seren lay draped across his lap like a living ruby, her hand trailing lazily along his thigh. She glanced at Ariaxa with triumphant poison in her smile.
Kaedan lifted his goblet slightly as Ariaxa approached.
“Wine.”
Ariaxa knelt, her pulse pounding in her ears as she reached for the decanter. Hands from nearby nobles reached out to grope passing slaves, grabbing thighs, hips, hair, anything within reach. The room pulsed with hedonistic hunger, and Ariaxa forced her gaze forward, terrified of the collar flaring again.
Seren curled against Kaedan’s chest.
“Such trembling hands,” she murmured loudly. “She’ll spill again.”
Kaedan did not glance at Seren.
“She’ll learn.”
Ariaxa poured carefully, her wrist steady despite the chaos around her. A nearby noble moaned loudly as a slave sank between his legs. Another pressed a girl against the table’s edge, his hands squeezing her hips as she gasped.
Ariaxa forced herself not to flinch.
Kaedan tapped the goblet with two fingers.
“Hold it.”
She lifted it with both hands, kneeling on the step beside his dais. Seren shifted and straddled Kaedan more fully, her back arching slightly as she moved against him with practiced ease.
Seren whispered, “You see? This is what he prefers.”
Kaedan’s eyes slid to Ariaxa—not Seren.
Ariaxa’s breath caught.
He reached out suddenly, curling his fingers around the back of her collar. The metal hummed ominously as he dragged her forward, pulling her between his knees with a force that sent a shock of fear down her spine.
Mirel, watching from across the room, pressed her lips together helplessly.
Kaedan lowered his mouth to Ariaxa’s ear, his voice a smooth blade.
“Open your mouth.”