Shadows Behind Silk
944 Words
Chapter Seven
Days had passed since the fight. The bruises on Seraphina’s body had faded, but the ache beneath her ribs the deeper one, lodged like splinters in her pride remained untouched.
She moved carefully through Kael’s court now head bowed, voice quiet, posture meek. The court wolves seemed satisfied. Kael hadn’t summoned her since the breakfast, hadn’t touched her or looked at her beyond the briefest glances in public. To them, it seemed she had been broken. That she had learned her place.
But Seraphina had only learned how to hide.
She memorized guard rotations, noted which corridors echoed less, which doors were left ajar too often. She smiled when expected. Nodded when spoken to. Listened when Kael’s men bragged to one another about raids, about prisoners, about women.
Each word tucked away. Each glance stored. And at night, Elsa came. With salves, with warm tea, with simple things that softened the stone edges of her cell.
But even comfort could be suspicious.
Tonight, Elsa said nothing as she lit the oil lamp. She simply sat at Seraphina’s side and brushed her hair, the strokes slow and methodical.
“I need you to send something,” Seraphina whispered, eyes fixed on the floor.
The brush paused.
“What?”
“A letter. To my father. It’s only a few lines.”
Elsa resumed brushing, slower now. “Kael won’t allow it.”
“I’m not asking him.”
Silence.
Then Elsa said, “What do you want it to say?”
Seraphina had already written it ink stolen days ago, hidden in the lining of her gown, the letter folded into a ribbon knot she kept braided in her hair. She reached up, undid the braid, and handed it over.
Elsa took the note with fingers that trembled despite herself. “If he receives it… do you think he’ll come?”
Seraphina didn’t answer right away. Her voice, when it came, was quiet. “He’s still my father.”
Elsa tucked the letter into her sleeve and stood.
“I’ll send it,” she said. “Through the traders’ route dangerous, but fast.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Elsa’s voice was soft but grim. “We might’ve just painted targets on both our backs.”
The door closed behind her, and Seraphina stared at the flickering candle until her eyes burned. By morning, the air in her chamber felt heavier. Denser.
Two young maids arrived at sunrise different from the usual ones. They wore deep plum robes and moved with nervous energy, glancing over their shoulders as if someone might be listening.
They carried bolts of silk, polished silver combs, and perfumes sharp enough to sting the air.
“These aren’t my clothes,” Seraphina said.
The taller maid offered a forced smile. “ Alpha Kael’s orders.”
Seraphina allowed them to dress her, saying nothing as her simple dress was replaced with deep red velvet, laced at the waist and baring her shoulders.
As they brushed her hair and adjusted her neckline, the younger maid murmured, “They’ve begun readying the eastern wing.”
“Shh!” the other hissed, glancing at the door.
But Seraphina stilled. “What did you say?”
The younger maid hesitated, but the words came anyway. “Alpha Kael is cleaning out the Luna’s chambers. Fresh linens. New furniture. Everything.”
“For me?” Seraphina asked, voice flat.
They exchanged glances.
“It’s not our place to say,” the taller one said stiffly. “But… there’s talk. About the full moon.”
A chill crawled down Seraphina’s spine.
“They’re dressing you for a mating bed,” Ember whispered. “Not a throne.”
Seraphina didn’t respond. But something inside her shifted. Tightened.
Had Kael already decided? Without a word to her? Just more orders. More arrangements made with her as the object not the participant.
That evening, Elsa returned with the leather-bound book pressed to her chest.
“I’ll deliver it,” she said, tone careful. “But this”—she tapped the spine—“is dangerous. If you’re caught—”
“I know.” Seraphina looked her in the eye. “But I had to try.”
Elsa lingered. “Why do you want to go back so badly?”
Seraphina hesitated. “Because I wasn’t meant to survive just to become this.”
Elsa lowered her gaze.
Seraphina stepped closer. “Why are you helping me?”
Elsa’s shoulders went stiff. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Then, barely above a whisper, she said:
“Because I remember what it was like… to believe the world was safer than it really was.”
She didn’t sleep that night. Even after Elsa left, even after the candles died, Seraphina lay still beneath the covers, her thoughts clawing at the walls of her mind.
What if her father didn’t get the letter? What if Kael already knew? She listened to every creak in the stone. Every murmur in the night.
Then, just before dawn a knock.
Hard. Sudden. Jarring.
She sat upright.
Another knock. Louder. Closer. A fist slamming against wood. Seraphina slipped from bed, her bare feet nearly silent, and opened the door with cautious fingers.
No one stood outside.
Just a blood-red rose, pinned to her door with a dagger plunged deep into the wood. The petals were fresh. Too fresh. Damp with dew or something thicker.
And beneath it a folded piece of parchment.
She took it with shaking hands, unfolding the single line scrawled across it in Kael’s unmistakable hand:
“The full moon approaches. You will be ready.”
- Writer
