POV: Seraphina
The infirmary had become a battlefield.
Seraphina knelt beside the cot and pressed her palm against her servant's forehead. The skin was cold, far too cold for someone still breathing. The woman who remembered the child she used to be, who had kept her mother's legacy safe when keeping it meant risking her life, who had believed in her when no one else would. Yona lay dying, and no matter what the court whispered about Flamebearer curses, Seraphina could not shake the fear that this was somehow connected to her.
The gray had spread past Yona's elbow now. Dark veins crawled beneath skin that had gone the color of old parchment. Each breath came slower than the last.
"Sera." Caelan's hand found her shoulder. "You have nothing left. The draughts are gone. Your fire is spent."
"Then I will find more." Her voice cracked on the words. "I will not let her die."
"You cannot save everyone."
"I can save her."
She reached for her fire anyway and found nothing. The place inside her where the D'Lorien flames lived had gone cold and empty. Four draughts had kept her going through the morning's chaos. Now there was nothing left to give.
Yona's breathing grew shallower. The gray crept higher, threading toward her shoulder.
Seraphina gripped the edge of the cot until her knuckles went white. Yona had waited eight years. Eight years to find her, to keep a promise made to her own mother, to see the woman Seraphina had become. And now she was slipping away, and Seraphina was empty and useless and watching one of the last people who remembered the girl she used to be die.
"There has to be something." Her voice came out raw. "Anything."
Caelan's silence was answer enough.
She pressed her forehead to Yona's, tears falling onto the older woman's cold cheeks, and waited for the end.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor outside.
She did not lift her head. She did not care who was coming. Thalion had walked out moments ago without a word, his expression unreadable, and she had not cared enough to wonder where he was going. If he had gone to fetch a blade, if he meant to do what he thought was necessary before Yona turned, let him try. She would find something. She always did.
The footsteps stopped at the infirmary entrance.
"Duchess."
His voice. She still did not look up.
"I brought something."
She raised her head.
Thalion stood in the doorway with a small crystal vial in his hand. The liquid inside caught the torchlight and glowed faintly blue.
"Soulwell essence," he said. "Imperial reserves. One dose."
Seraphina's breath caught.
"Where did you get that?"
"The palace treasury. The Empress keeps emergency reserves." His expression gave nothing away. "It will restore your magical reserves. Enough to keep healing."
She stared at him. The Crown Prince who had suspected her from the moment they met.
Now he stood there offering her the means to save Yona's life.
"Why?"
He crossed the room and pressed the vial into her hands. The crystal was cold against her palm.
"Because she is dying." His voice carried no warmth. "And because I am not certain you are guilty of what they say."
The words hit harder than she expected. She had braced for suspicion, for accusation. She had not braced for this.
"That is not trust," she said.
"No. It is doubt about my own certainty." He stepped back. "I watched you burn yourself empty saving strangers. I saw you weep for people whose names you did not know."
"And that proved something?"
"It proved that whatever you are, you are not what they warned me about."
She uncorked the vial and drank.
The soulwell essence burned down her throat and flooded through her veins.
Power rushed back into her, filling the emptiness that had hollowed her out over the past hours. The fire was not her own, not exactly. It was borrowed from the essence of something ancient and powerful, something that would fade before the day ended. She did not care. It was enough.
She placed her hands on Yona's chest and called the healing flames.
Golden fire poured from her palms and sank into Yona's body. The curse was spreading through her blood, cold and hungry and racing toward her heart faster than Seraphina could follow. It recognized her fire and tried to escape, finding new paths through new veins.
Seraphina pushed harder. The borrowed power amplified her flames and drove them deeper into the corruption that was killing her friend.
"Hold on," she whispered. "Hold on, Yona. I am not losing you."
The curse fought back. She felt its resistance pressing against her mind, that terrible whisper demanding she kneel, demanding she surrender. She ignored it and burned harder.
The corruption was deeper here than in the others she had saved. The bite had been vicious, the infection spreading fast. She had to dig for it, chase it through every vein, burn it out of places it had already taken root.
Her hands trembled with the effort. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her temples.
Caelan's hand found her shoulder again. Steadying her. Grounding her.
She burned and burned and burned.
The gray retreated.
It went slowly at first, the corruption fighting for every inch it had claimed. Then faster as her fire found its rhythm and overwhelmed it. The dark veins faded from Yona's arm, from her shoulder, from her chest. Color returned to her cheeks. Her breathing steadied.
Seraphina felt the moment the curse died, felt the last of that cold wrongness burn away to nothing.
She pulled her hands back and nearly collapsed. Caelan caught her before she hit the floor, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her upright.
"You did it."
"She's alive?"
"She's alive."
Yona's eyes fluttered open. She looked confused at first, her gaze unfocused and wandering. Then it settled on Seraphina's face, and something in her expression shifted.
"My lady." Her voice was weak and hoarse. "I thought I was lost."
"You are never lost." Seraphina reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tight. "Not while I still have fire to burn."
Yona's eyes glistened. She tried to speak, but her voice gave out. She just held on, her fingers trembling in Seraphina's grip.
"Rest now." Seraphina smoothed the hair back from Yona's forehead the way her own mother used to do for her. "The worst is over. You are safe."
Yona's eyes drifted closed. Her breathing evened out into true sleep, not the shallow gasping of someone slipping away. The color in her cheeks held steady.
She would live.
Thalion had not moved from his position near the door.
Seraphina became aware of him watching her as she straightened, still leaning against Caelan for support. His expression was unreadable, that careful mask he wore giving nothing away. He was standing differently now. The rigid tension he had carried for days had eased.
"You saved her," he said.
"You gave me the means to save her." She met his eyes across the room. "Thank you."
The words felt strange in her mouth. Gratitude for a man who had doubted her at every turn, even when he fought beside her. Who might still doubt her tomorrow. Who had only helped because he was not certain she was guilty, not because he believed she was innocent.
He gave a single, tight nod. "The others are waiting. The third creature is still loose in the palace. We need to end this."
He was already thinking about the next fight, the next duty. She understood that. She was the same way.
"How many more were bitten during the attack?" she asked.
"Seven confirmed in this wing alone. Three have already turned. The guards put them down."
Seven more people. Three already lost.
"I can heal the rest. The soulwell essence is still working."
"The third undead takes priority," Thalion said. "If we do not end this, more will be infected."
"Those people are dying right now."
"And every minute you spend healing is a minute the creature uses to infect more." His jaw tightened. "You cannot save everyone."
"I can save the ones I can reach."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Heal them," he said finally. "I will hold the line until you are ready."
He turned and walked out.
The four remaining infected were scattered across the infirmary.
Seraphina moved between them, pouring golden fire into each wound, burning out the corruption before it could spread. Caelan stayed at her side, steadying her when she swayed.
The first two were manageable. Shallow bites, corruption caught early. She burned it out in minutes.
The rest were harder. A guard bitten hours ago during the initial outbreak, the gray already climbing his arm. A chambermaid with wounds on both arms from trying to fight off one of the turned.
She saved them all. She poured everything the soulwell essence had given her into their blood, burned out the corruption, pulled them back from the edge of turning.
When she finished with the last one, she could barely stand.
Caelan caught her as her knees buckled. He lowered her into a chair near Yona's cot.
"You did it. All four."
"Is anyone else...?"
"No new infections reported in this wing. The guards have isolated the remaining servants."
She leaned back and closed her eyes. The borrowed power was fading now, just a faint warmth that was slipping away.
"The third undead. We still need to destroy it."
"You need a moment."
"I need to finish this."
Caelan's hand found hers.
"You will. We will. Together. But right now, Thalion is holding the line. We have a few minutes."
She wanted to push herself up and keep moving. She was so tired of losing people.
"A few minutes," she said.
He stayed beside her while she breathed.
Yona stirred in the cot beside her.
Seraphina opened her eyes. The older woman was awake, her gaze clearer than before, fixed on Seraphina's face.
"My lady." Her voice was still weak. "How long was I...?"
"Not long. A couple of hours." Seraphina leaned forward, still holding Caelan's hand. "How do you feel?"
"Tired." Yona tried to sit up and failed. "Weak. Like something has been scooped out of me."
"That is normal. The healing takes as much as it gives. You will need rest."
Yona's eyes moved to Caelan, then back to Seraphina. "The curse. The others who were bitten. Did you...?"
"Everyone I could reach. Four more in this wing, plus you."
"Five lives." Yona's eyes glistened. "You saved five lives today."
Seraphina did not answer. She was thinking about the ones she had not saved. The kitchen boy who had turned. The maid from storage. The laundry woman torn apart before they could reach her. The reports filtering in from across the palace spoke of dozens dead, dozens more wounded. The third creature was still out there, still hunting.
Yona seemed to read her thoughts.
"You cannot save everyone, my lady. Even your mother knew that."
"My mother saved me." The words came out before she could stop them. "She gave her life to bring me back. What if people are dying because I exist?"
The thought had been lurking in the back of her mind since the curse first appeared. Now it was out in the open, spoken aloud, impossible to take back.
Caelan's grip on her hand tightened. "That is not true."
"Is it not?" She met his eyes. "The curse appeared the same night as my divorce. The night my bloodline became public. Half the court thinks I caused this. What if they are right? What if someone did this to hurt me, and all these people are just collateral damage?"
"Even if that is true, the blame belongs to whoever activated the curse. Not to you."
"But if I had never been born. If my mother had never cast the regression spell. Would these people still be alive?"
Caelan did not have an answer. Neither did Yona.
Seraphina looked at the infirmary around her. The rows of cots filled with wounded. The healers moving between them with bandages and herbs. The guards at the doors, watching for more attacks.
According to the latest count from the healers, eighty-nine were dead across the palace in two days. Thirty saved from the curse by healers and by her fire. For every life pulled back from the edge, three more had slipped through.
What if this is my fault? What if my existence brought this down on them?
She had no proof. The accusations came from advisors who feared her bloodline and nobles who wanted her contained. Caelan suspected Alaric. No one knew who had done this or why.
But if it is about me. If my second chance cost these people their lives...
The fear stayed with her. She pushed it down. There was still a creature to hunt. Still a palace to save.
She could break later. Right now, she had work to do.
"The third undead," she said, pushing herself to her feet. "Where was it last seen?"
Caelan rose with her. "The lower passages. Thalion is holding the perimeter. We need to find it."
"Then let's end this."
The corridor outside was silent in a way that felt wrong.
Caelan walked at her left shoulder, one hand on his sword hilt. They moved through halls that had been full of screaming just hours ago. Now there was only silence and the smell of smoke.
The borrowed power was nearly gone. Her own fire was a faint ember in her chest, barely enough to light a candle.
She thought about what Thalion had said in the infirmary. The crack in his certainty. The first time he had admitted that he might have misjudged her.
I am not certain you are guilty.
Not absolution. Not trust. Just doubt about his own conviction. She wanted to understand what had shaped his suspicion of her bloodline.
Later. If they survived.
They descended into the darkness together.
The guilt followed her into the dark. She did not need to turn it over again. She had already spoken the words aloud, had already seen Caelan and Yona fail to answer. The weight was enough. She would carry it until this was over. Somewhere ahead, the third creature hunted. Seraphina kept walking.