The night after the banquet was sleepless.
Seraphina sat alone in the Moonlight Library — the restricted wing of the palace archives, sealed off with shadow locks and wards only the Empress could undo. Candles burned low as her gloved fingers traced the edge of a parchment scroll, stained at the corners from age… or blood.
She had found it while searching for information on the divine beast — but the crest on the bottom caught her eye.
A flame-devouring serpent.
Her family's forgotten sigil.
The storybook — The Snow Pearl — had painted her as a tyrant. A woman who murdered her own parents to rise as Empress. The villainess who seduced noble sons, imprisoned dissenters, and ruled by fear.
But in this document — yellowed and buried deep — she found a different story.
Her parents hadn't been poisoned by her.
They had been executed.
By the very people who now praised the so-called "heroine."
A quiet fury settled in her chest. This world lied. The book lied. The heroine lied.
Her mother, Empress Valeska — a dark-light wielder and renowned tactician — had tried to reform the corrupt noble system. Her father, Consort Altair, had created protections for magic hybrids.
But then… seven noble houses rose against them. Accused them of "tainting the light." Branded their bloodline impure. And orchestrated a public execution disguised as a "divine cleansing."
Seraphina clenched the edge of the scroll so tightly it began to tear.
So that's why they made me the villain.
They couldn't erase her bloodline, so they rewrote her.
They crafted a "heroine" — Elowen — the sweet white-light girl who reminded the people of what they used to be: weak, pure, and easy to control.
A slow knock on the door interrupted her rage.
It was Kael.
"There's someone in the Eastern Tower," he said. "A seer. She claims she has something to show you… about your parents."
Seraphina rose. No hesitation.
---
The Eastern Tower was cold, even for the palace. Once used for celestial rituals, now abandoned. Moonlight spilled across the stones, and in the center stood an old woman in silver robes, eyes blind, lips stitched with inked runes.
Seraphina stepped into the circle.
The seer spoke without moving her mouth.
"Would you see the truth… and pay the price?"
Seraphina nodded once.
The seer's hands moved in a blur, runes carving through the air. A vision opened — not illusion, not magic — but memory itself.
Flames. Screams. A younger Seraphina being dragged away by masked soldiers. Her mother clutching her own blood-soaked side, yelling something —
"Live."
Her father collapsing behind her.
And among the nobles watching from the high platform?
A little blonde girl.
Elowen.
She had been there.
Not innocent. Not clueless.
Witness to slaughter — and protected by those who ordered it.
The vision shattered.
Seraphina fell to one knee, breathing hard.
The seer was gone.
Kael caught her before she collapsed completely.
"You saw it, didn't you?" he whispered. "The truth."
Seraphina looked up, eyes dark with fury and resolve.
"They killed my parents… and they crowned the puppet who watched."
She stood.
"I will not let them write my ending."
---