Chapter 245

Seraphine’s POV

The coaching inn’s courtyard was deserted. Perfect.

I pressed my back against the velvet seat and let the trembling take me. Not from fear. From triumph. My fingers curled into the fabric of my traveling cloak, knuckles white, chest heaving with the kind of breathless elation that bordered on madness.

She believed it. She actually believed it.

I closed my eyes and replayed the moment. Elara’s face—that porcelain mask shattering into countless pieces. The way her voice cracked when she said his name. The way her hands shook as she clutched the separation papers.

Beautiful.

Everything had unfolded exactly as planned. The drugged wine. The staged scene. The whispered rumors that spread through the court like wildfire. And now—the crowning achievement—Elara herself had crumbled. She believed Kaelen had chosen me. Believed the child growing inside me was his.

I pressed a hand to my swollen belly. A smile twisted my lips.

If only she knew whose it really was.

The driver knocked on the carriage roof. “My lady? Which road?”

“The eastern route. Toward Stonebrook.”

The carriage lurched forward. I steadied myself against the window frame and watched the inn disappear behind a curtain of dust.

Stonebrook. My safehouse. A modest country estate belonging to a distant relative who asked no questions and accepted generous coin. I would hide there through the remainder of my pregnancy. Wait. Let the chaos unfold in the capital without me.

Phase three was complete.

The next phase belonged to Gareth. He would move against Kaelen while the emperor was emotionally gutted, politically isolated, his mate gone, his reputation shredded. By the time anyone pieced together what had happened, it would be too late.

And then—

I would return. Not as a disgraced cousin of the guard captain. Not as a court lady. As queen.

The word tasted like honey on my tongue.

I leaned my head against the window and watched the countryside blur past. Rolling hills. Farmland. The occasional cluster of stone cottages with smoke curling from their chimneys.

Everything was working. Everything was—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A flutter of wings outside the window. I turned sharply. A small enchanted sparrow—a messenger construct—hovered at the glass. Its crystalline eyes pulsed blue. Cassian’s signature magic.

I opened the window a crack. The sparrow dissolved into mist and reformed as a folded note that drifted into my lap.

Seraphine. Return to the palace immediately. This is not a request. Trust me, this is important. —C

I crumpled the note and tossed it to the floor.

No. Absolutely not.

Whatever Cassian wanted, it could wait. He didn’t know what I’d done. He couldn’t. He was loyal to Kaelen above all else—blood or no blood—and if he discovered the truth, his sense of honor would compel him to hand me over without hesitation.

I wasn’t going back.

The carriage rattled onward. The road narrowed as we left the main highway, winding through patches of forest that threw dappled shadows across the interior.

Another messenger arrived. Then another.

Come back now. Please.

Seraphine. I’m serious. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.

Where are you? Answer me.

Each note more urgent than the last. Each one with that same undertone—not concern. Not familial warmth. Something sharper. More desperate.

Warning.

A cold thread wound through my chest. I crushed the latest note in my fist.

He doesn’t know. He can’t know. The plan was flawless. Gareth and I covered every trace—

But the messages kept coming.

Why would Cassian be this persistent? He wasn’t the sentimental type. He didn’t send multiple messages unless—

Unless he’d been ordered to.

The cold thread became ice. It spread through my ribs, my spine, my fingers.

No. Stop. Think rationally.

Kaelen had been destroyed by what happened. I’d seen it. The emptiness in his eyes when Elara walked out. The way he’d stood in that corridor like a man watching his own execution. He was in no state to investigate. No state to command anything beyond breathing.

Wasn’t he?

I yanked open the curtain and leaned toward the driver’s seat. “How much farther to Stonebrook?”

“About forty minutes, my lady. But the horses need a brief rest before the final stretch.”

“Fine. Stop here for a moment.”

The carriage rolled to a halt. I pulled the communication crystal from my bodice. It was small, warm from my skin, pulsing with dormant enchantment. I pressed my thumb to its surface and channeled a whisper of intent.

Gareth. Phase three complete. She’s gone. The separation papers will be signed by tomorrow. Heading to Stonebrook now. Stay hidden.

The crystal absorbed the message and went dark.

I tucked it away and breathed. In. Out. Steady.

Forty minutes to safety. I could make it.

And then—light.

Before the driver could snap the reins, a blinding, white, magical light erupted ahead of us like a second sun, flooding through the carriage windows with such intensity that I threw my arm over my eyes.

The horses screamed.

“Stay inside, my lady!” The driver’s voice was high. Panicked.

I scrambled upright and peered through the window. Ahead, a black carriage sat motionless in the center of the road. Its lanterns blazed with enchanted fire—too bright to be natural, too steady to be flame. The light illuminated everything around us.

There was nowhere to turn. The road was narrow here. Forest pressed close on both sides.

Three figures emerged from behind the black carriage. Men. Tall. Dressed in dark uniforms that I recognized instantly—the cut, the silver clasps at the throat, the absence of any house insignia except the imperial seal.

Royal Guard.

No. No, no, no—

I grabbed the door handle. Locked.

Of course it was unlocked. I was the one inside. I fumbled with the latch, shoved the door open, and stepped down onto the dirt road. My legs wobbled. The weight of my belly shifted my balance.

“Stop right there.” I drew myself up to full height. Made my voice sharp. Commanding. “I am Lady Seraphine de Valcourt. I am traveling under my own authority. You have no right to block—”

“Lady Seraphine.” The lead guard stepped forward. Calm. Professional. His face betrayed nothing. “We need you to come with us.”

“I will do no such thing. I’m carrying the Emperor’s child. If you lay a hand on me, I will report this to the provincial magistrate and have you stripped of—”

“We know.”

Two words. Spoken without inflection. Without doubt.

We know.

The second guard moved to flank my left. The third positioned himself behind me. Not touching. Not threatening. Just… present. Immovable.

The lead guard gestured toward the black carriage. Its door stood open. The interior was shadow.

“Please, my lady. Step inside.”

“And if I refuse?”

He tilted his head slightly. Almost sympathetic. Almost.

“Then we carry you. Gently. But we carry you.”

The forest was silent. No birds. No wind. Just the crackle of enchanted lanterns and the thundering of my own heartbeat.

I had no weapon. No allies within shouting distance. No magic strong enough to challenge three trained imperial soldiers.

I climbed into the black carriage.

The door shut behind me. The lock engaged with a heavy, final click.

Darkness swallowed me. The interior smelled of leather and iron.

The carriage began to move.

The man sitting in the passenger seat up front turned around. Looked at me through the small partition window. His expression was unreadable.

“His Imperial Majesty is waiting for you.”

He paused. Let the words sink in.

“Isn’t this what you always wanted?”