POV: Ravenna
"Lady Seris," the elderly woman at the center says. "You know these visitors?"
"Only by reputation." Seris steps forward gracefully. She looks exactly like she did at the betrothal ball—ageless despite being in her late forties, silver-grey hair in elegant braids, pale blue-grey eyes that look wise and calm.
Everything about her screams trustworthy advisor. Gentle mentor. Harmless diplomat. "Princess Ravenna of Cindravale. I attended her betrothal celebration months ago. Such a lovely event." She turns that serene smile on me. "Though I must say, Princess, you look quite different now. Travel has been unkind."
I want to lunge at her. Want to set her on fire. Want to scream that she's a murderer and a hypocrite and the reason my mother is dead.
But Theron's hand is still gripping mine. Steady. Grounding. Warning.
"Travel is always unkind," I manage. My voice sounds almost normal. Almost. "Especially when fleeing assassination attempts."
"How terrifying." Seris's expression is perfectly sympathetic. "The Council should hear your full account, I think. Pyrstone grows increasingly aggressive. We must understand the scope of this conflict."
The elderly man nods. "Lady Seris is correct. Please, tell us what brings Cindravale's princess to our gates."
So we tell them. Edited version, carefully constructed to leave out certain details. Theron explains about Pyrstone's invasion. I describe General Stone's attack on our camp. Saren mentions our escape through the mountain caves. We make it sound like pure military aggression. Like political conquest.
We don't mention the Eclipse. We don't mention gift-bearers being hunted. We definitely don't mention that I have a healing gift that makes me a target.
The Council listens with typical Air Kingdom calm. Asking questions. Taking notes. Considering implications.
And through it all, Seris watches me with those cold eyes.
"Fascinating," she says when we finish. "And terrible, of course. Cindravale has long been our ally. We cannot stand by while Pyrstone commits such aggression." She pauses. "Though I must ask, Princess—how did you escape? General Stone is renowned for his tactical brilliance. Few slip through his grasp."
Trap. That's a trap. She's trying to make me reveal my gift.
"Luck," I say flatly. "And determination."
"Surely more than that." Seris smiles. "Rumor suggests Princess Ravenna recently awakened to certain... abilities. Water magic from her mother's bloodline, perhaps? Such gifts are rare. Precious. Worthy of study."
Every person in the room is suddenly looking at me with intense interest. Because of COURSE they are. Rare gifts are fascinating to Air Kingdom scholars. They collect knowledge like dragons collect gold.
"I have some water affinity," I admit carefully. Because denying it now would be suspicious. "Minor talents. Nothing remarkable."
"How modest." Seris's eyes gleam. "The Council should know, Princess Ravenna's mother was Queen Elara of Aetherwyn. A renowned healer before her tragic death in childbirth." She turns to the Council. "If Ravenna inherited even a fraction of that gift, she would benefit greatly from proper training. Healing magic is delicate. Dangerous if not properly controlled."
Oh. OH. She's not just trying to expose me. She's trying to get me under her direct supervision. Under her CONTROL.
"That is a generous offer," Theron says before I can respond. His voice is carefully neutral. "But we seek only temporary sanctuary. Once it is safe, we will return to Cindravale."
"Of course, of course." Seris waves a hand dismissively. "But while you are here, Princess, why waste the opportunity? I have studied rare gifts extensively. I could teach you control. Refinement. Prevent accidents." She meets my eyes directly. "Untrained healers often harm more than help. I would hate for you to hurt someone unintentionally."
It sounds like concern. Like genuine worry for my safety and the safety of others.
But what I hear is: I know what you can do. I know you're valuable. And I'm going to make sure you can't escape.
The elderly woman of the Council confers quietly with her fellow members. Then she turns to us. "We grant sanctuary to Princess Ravenna and her companions. Rooms will be provided in the guest quarters. Your stay is welcome for as long as needed." She looks at Seris. "And Lady Seris, your offer to train the Princess is most generous. We encourage Princess Ravenna to accept this opportunity."
Not a command. But not really a suggestion either. More like a strongly worded expectation backed by diplomatic weight.
"Thank you," I say through gritted teeth that I force into a smile. "I would be honored to learn from Lady Seris."
Seris's smile is radiant. Victorious. "Excellent. We shall begin tomorrow morning. I know a perfect garden atop the eastern island—quiet, peaceful, ideal for training." She looks at me with those calculating eyes and I see the predator beneath the performance. "I look forward to our time together, Princess."
I look forward to burning you alive, I think but don't say.
"As do I," I lie smoothly.
The audience ends. Guards escort us to the guest quarters—a suite of rooms carved into one of the smaller floating islands. Nice rooms. Comfortable. With big windows overlooking the city and the clouds and the distant ground far below.
The moment the guards leave and we're alone, Morgana says, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK."
"Agreed," Saren says. He's pacing like a caged animal. "That woman—she's the one? The one leading the Eclipse?"
"Yes," I say. My hands are shaking. "That's her. That's Seris."
"She tried to have you killed," Morgana says flatly. "And now she wants to train you?"
"She wants to study me." I sink onto a chair. "She wants to understand my gift so she can figure out how to kill me more effectively. Or control me. Or—I don't know. Nothing good."
Theron is standing at the window, looking out at Skyreach. His face is carved from stone. "We need to leave."
"We just got here!" Morgana protests.
"And we're walking into a trap." He turns to look at us. "Seris has us exactly where she wants us. No weapons. Foreign territory. Under observation. If we stay, she'll move against us."
"If we run, she'll know we're onto her," Saren counters. "Right now, she thinks we don't know. That's an advantage."
"Is it?" I ask quietly. "Because she just maneuvered me into daily private training sessions. Alone with her. On a floating island where no one can hear me scream."
Silence.
Finally, Theron says, "We play along. For now. We act like we suspect nothing. We accept the training. We gather information. And the moment we have an opening, we run."
"What if there is no opening?" I whisper.
His eyes meet mine. "Then we make one."
I want to believe him. Want to trust that we'll find a way out of this. But I can still see Seris's smile. That cold, calculating assessment. The way she looked at me like I'm a specimen to study. A problem to solve.
A threat to eliminate.
I curl my fingers into fists to stop the shaking.
"Tomorrow morning," I say. My voice is steadier than I feel. "That's when training starts. That's when I have to face her alone."
"You won't be alone," Morgana says fiercely. "We'll be watching. Ready."
"From where?" I gesture at the window. "She said a garden on the eastern island. That's probably half a dozen bridges away. By the time you reach me—"
"Then I'll be fast," Morgana interrupts. "I'll be so fucking fast."
Saren nods. "I'll position myself on the nearest bridge. Close enough to intervene if needed."
"And I'll be at the garden entrance," Theron says. His voice leaves no room for argument. "She won't have you alone. I promise you that."
I nod. Try to take comfort in their certainty. Their loyalty.
But deep down, I know the truth.
Tomorrow, I walk into the predator's den. And I have to smile while doing it.