Dawn painted the Darion estate in cold, pale light. The courtyard was empty, the frost clinging to marble. Seren stepped from the car in silence, her coat catching the breeze, her shoes echoing along the stone path. Her hair was pinned back in a perfect twist, her expression unreadable. Nothing in her face betrayed the storm beneath her skin.
The halls inside were still. She walked slowly, as if every step was calculated. When she reached Calyx’s chambers, she paused only briefly before pushing the door open. Inside, the fire was lit—and so was he.
Calyx stood by the hearth, hands behind his back, staring into the flames like they could give him answers. The warmth touched his profile, but his voice was cold when he finally spoke.
“You’re up early.”
Seren stepped forward, not bothering to answer that.
“You planned it,” she said, her voice sharp and steady. Calyx turned his head slightly but not enough to meet her eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked, all polished calm.
Seren didn’t blink. “Vireya. The gala. The announcement. All of it.”
His silence was answer enough. He didn’t even pretend to deny it.
“You’ve served your purpose, Seren,” he said, like it was a favor. “Now step aside.”
Something in her chest twisted, but she didn’t let it show. Her hands remained loose at her sides, her chin lifted.
“Then choose,” she said. “Her or me.”
Calyx turned to face her fully. His eyes, once warm in courtship, were now colder than the frost outside.
“You were never the right fit,” he said. “You knew that.” Her lips pressed into a line, eyes narrowing just enough.
“Then I want a divorce.”
He flinched. Just a flicker, but it was there. He hadn’t expected that.
“You’ll ruin your standing,” he said, stepping forward.
Seren tilted her head slightly. “I already have none,” she replied. “And yet I’m still breathing.”
His frustration cracked through his calm like lightning behind glass.
“You won’t survive on your own. Without this name, without this family, you’re nothing.”
Her voice didn’t shake. “I was already nothing to you. The difference now is that I’m done pretending it didn’t hurt.”
The air between them stretched, bitter and thick. Calyx took another step, voice sharp. “You’re weak, Seren. That’s why I had to move on.”
Her gaze darkened. “You called me weak because I didn’t fight back. Because I waited for you to see me. I thought if I stayed quiet, you’d finally hear me.” She stepped closer, fire reflecting in her eyes. “But you never listened. You erased me.”
His jaw flexed, but he said nothing.
She didn’t stop. “You shut me out. You gave my seat to someone prettier, louder, easier to shape. I begged you for support. You gave me nothing.”
He looked at her then—really looked—but it was too late.
She stepped back. Her hand found the door. “You chose her. So now I choose myself.”
She left without another word.
The door slammed shut behind her, the sound loud and final in the quiet hall. It echoed like something ancient breaking loose, a warning bell across the marble floors. The estate seemed to still around her, as if even the walls weren’t sure what had just happened. Her footsteps didn’t pause.
By the archway, Kaelenna leaned against a pillar, a smirk already forming on her lips.
“Ooh,” she said, dragging the word with delight. “That was bold. Let’s see how long you last.”
Seren didn’t look back. “Longer than you think.”