Chapter 6: The Lion’s Den
604 Words
The carriage ride to the Duke’s estate was a symphony of silence and tension. Seraphina sat across from Valerius, her mind racing through the next dozen steps of her Scheming plan. The adrenaline from the heist was beginning to fade, replaced by the bone-deep exhaustion of a woman who had lived two lives in a single day. Across from her, Valerius watched her with the predatory stillness of a wolf. His Dominant presence filled the small space, and the flickering carriage lamps highlighted the sharp, Serious angles of his face.
"You’re staring, Your Grace," Seraphina said, her voice steady despite the fatigue.
"I’m wondering if I’ve brought a savior into my home, or a viper," Valerius replied, his voice a low rumble. He leaned forward, the Mystery of his "Cursed" reputation feeling very real in the dim light. "You knew about the gate. You knew about the bribes. You even knew exactly where the guards would look first. Information like that doesn't come from 'intuition,' Seraphina."
Seraphina didn't blink. She couldn't tell him she was a regressor—not yet. He was Paranoid enough as it was. "In this court, you either learn everyone’s secrets, or you become one of them. I chose the former."
The carriage lurched to a halt in front of the Blackwood Manor. It wasn't a palace of gold and marble like Alaric’s; it was a fortress of dark stone and sharp iron, hidden away from the prying eyes of the capital. As the door opened, the cool mountain air rushed in, carrying the scent of pine and old magic.
Valerius stepped out first and, in a rare moment of Nobleman courtesy, offered his hand. Seraphina took it, her small hand swallowed by his leather-gloved grip. The heat of his palm was a stark contrast to the cold night, and for a second, the Mystery between them felt less like a threat and more like a bridge.
They were met at the door by a line of silent, stern-faced servants. This wasn't a house of gossip; it was a house of soldiers. Seraphina realized then why she had chosen him in her first life's final moments of thought. He was the only man Alaric feared.
"Take the Lady to the Obsidian Suite," Valerius commanded his head butler. "And bring the healers. She’s bleeding."
Seraphina looked down in surprise. She hadn't noticed the shallow cut on her arm from the earlier arrow fire. The adrenaline had masked the pain, but now that she was safe, the sting was sharp. "It’s nothing," she said, her Stubborn nature kicking in.
"It is a mark of my failure to protect my 'contracted' wife," Valerius said, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. He stepped close, his Dominant height forcing her to look up. "If we are to destroy a Prince together, you must be whole. I don't partner with broken things."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not broken," Seraphina countered, her eyes flashing with a Kickass spark. "I'm just getting started."
As she was led away to her rooms, she heard the distant sound of a rider approaching the gates. She stopped, her Genius instincts screaming. That wasn't a Duke's messenger. That was a Royal Herald.
"The King's men are here early," she whispered to herself.
She looked back at Valerius. He had already drawn a short blade, his expression Cold and ready for the Counterattack. The game had shifted again. Alaric wasn't just angry; he was desperate. And a desperate Prince was the most dangerous creature in the kingdom.
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