Chapter 3: A Viper in Silk
Morning came with golden light filtered through my chamber's high windows, gilding the marble floor and fine drapery with false warmth. The palace was a vision of beauty—ornate, perfect, sacred. But it was a well-dressed coffin.
I had walked these halls before. I knew every secret passage, every servant's entrance, every shadowed corner where whispers turned into weapons. And I remembered how easily I had been lulled into believing this place was home.
It would not happen again.
"Elora," I called, tying the sash of my morning robe. "Bring me tea. And send for Lord Ravan."
She blinked. "Your uncle?"
"Yes."
"But… he hasn't visited court in years."
Precisely.
"Tell him I summoned him."
She hesitated, sensing the shift in me. But she obeyed.
Good. I would need her loyalty more than her curiosity.
---
While waiting, I returned to the parchment I had written the night before. My list.
Kaelith's name still sat at the top, circled in red ink.
Below him, I added:
Celene Virell – Dangerous. Intelligent. Knows too much.
High Priest Alloran – Manipulative. Might suspect the truth. Possible wielder of ancient magic.
Duke Halveren – Opportunist. Loyal to the strongest power.
Countess Mirei – Dangerous but vain. Can be tempted.
Lady Lyrienne – Former friend. Potential to sway.
Each name came with memories—some painful, others bitter. I would confront them all, in time.
But first, my uncle.
---
Lord Ravan Virell entered my chambers just before noon, accompanied by the distinct scent of old books and cigar smoke. He was not a large man, but his presence filled the room. Years of exile in his tower library had not dulled the sharpness of his eyes or the cruelty of his tongue.
"You look alive, niece," he said, studying me as he might a curious insect pinned to a page. "That's a surprise."
"Then you'll be pleased to know I intend to remain that way."
He laughed once. "So, you've changed."
"Yes."
"Good. The last version of you was insufferable."
He poured himself tea without asking and took a seat near the window.
"I need your help," I said, wasting no time.
He arched a brow. "That's a first."
"I need information. Allies. Leverage."
"And what are you offering?"
"The chance to reshape the Empire."
That made him pause.
He leaned forward, peering at me with renewed interest. "Who are you, Seraphina? You look like my niece. But you speak like a stranger."
"Let's say I've had a change in perspective."
"I don't deal in riddles."
"I know."
We stared at each other for a long time.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
"If you're serious… and I think you are… then we begin with Celene."
---
My cousin.
My betrayer.
My murderer in silk.
Celene was many things: beautiful, brilliant, beloved by nobles. She had grown up in my shadow and learned to walk like the light. But she was a viper. And she never struck without venom.
She came to visit that afternoon, gliding into my chamber like a queen-in-waiting, her pale blue dress fluttering around her like mist.
"Cousin," she said, eyes sparkling. "I was just thinking of you."
I smiled. "Were you?"
"You left so early last night. I hardly had time to speak with you after the banquet."
I motioned for her to sit. "We have time now."
She hesitated.
Ah. She hadn't expected warmth. She didn't trust it.
Good.
She took the seat anyway.
"Have you truly accepted the Crown Prince's hand?" she asked casually.
I tilted my head. "Is that envy I hear?"
She laughed, but her hands fidgeted with her sleeve.
"You always were the favorite," she said, her voice like honey over a blade. "The beautiful one. The clever one. The one promised to power."
"Then it must have stung when I refused the match last year."
Her expression faltered.
"You… remember that?"
"I remember everything."
I leaned closer, letting my voice soften. "Do you know what it's like to fall asleep trusting someone—only to wake up and realize you were wrong about everyone?"
Celene blinked. "Seraphina—"
"You'll never get the crown," I said, smiling sweetly. "Not while I'm alive."
And then, just as quickly, I shifted back to civility. "More tea?"
She rose instead, clearly rattled. "I've forgotten how sharp your tongue can be."
"I only ever used it to protect you," I said quietly.
She left without answering.
One down.
---
Later that evening, Kaelith summoned me.
Not a formal invitation through the court, but a quiet request, sent via one of his personal guards. That meant privacy. And power.
I wore a modest navy gown and kept my hair unadorned. If he expected the sweet, trembling girl he once knew, he would be sorely disappointed.
His private study in the North Wing was filled with maps, scrolls, weapons. It smelled of leather, ink, and steel. A fire crackled in the hearth, painting his figure in warm golds and reds.
"You came," he said without looking up from a scroll.
"You summoned me."
He set the scroll down and studied me.
"Your cousin has been asking questions."
"Celene asks questions because she likes the sound of her own voice."
"She asked if the engagement was official yet."
I didn't respond.
He stepped closer.
"Is that why you're here? To discuss politics?"
"No," I said, meeting his eyes. "I came to warn you."
He raised a brow. "How bold."
"There are enemies in your court. In your bedchambers. And possibly even in your council."
He studied me. "And you know this… how?"
"I pay attention."
He laughed once. "You sound like my spymaster."
"Then perhaps he's not doing his job."
Another silence.
Then, suddenly, he moved closer—too close. His fingers brushed my chin, tilting my face toward his.
"You speak like someone with secrets."
I didn't flinch. "Don't you?"
"I have many."
"Then perhaps we'll get along after all."
He studied me for a long moment, then let his hand fall.
"You're not the girl I agreed to marry," he said softly.
"No," I said. "She died."
I left before he could respond.
---
That night, I sat on the balcony of my chamber, overlooking the flickering lanterns of the palace gardens. Elora brought me a cloak, but I didn't feel the chill.
My mind was already racing toward tomorrow.
Toward the war that had not yet begun.
Toward the future I would now change.
But just as I turned to retreat inside, something moved in the garden below.
A shadow. A figure dressed in black.
Too tall to be a servant. Too quiet for a guard.
I narrowed my eyes.
He was staring up at me.
And in the dark, I saw it—a flash of silver under his collar.
A crescent-shaped pendant.
The mark of the Obsidian Circle.
A secret order that wasn't supposed to exist yet.
A group I had once discovered too late.
They were here.
Already.
Watching me.
And in that moment, I knew—
The curse hadn't ended with my return.
It had only just begun.