The first thing Sophie noticed when she woke the next morning was the sound of footsteps.
Not the usual shuffle of Eira preparing her clothes, not the distant creak of servants moving about the palace—but heavier, deliberate boots pacing outside her door.
She sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from her eyes. The canopy of her bed hung like a silken trap, the morning light spilling in slivers across the floor. Something in the air felt different—thicker, heavier, like suspicion itself had seeped into her chambers.
Eira entered with a tray, balancing breakfast and a nervous expression. She set the food down, avoiding Sophie's questioning eyes until Sophie spoke.
"They've doubled the guard, haven't they?" Sophie asked quietly.
Eira froze, her lips parting as if to deny it—but then she sighed. "Yes, my lady. I counted four posted outside your door before dawn. And two more in the corridor leading here. They're not just watching the palace anymore. They're watching you."
Sophie swung her legs over the bed, the chill of the stone floor seeping through her bare feet. "So he knows," she muttered. "Or at least suspects."
Eira wrung her hands. "The king is not a man easily deceived. If he discovers we were in the library…"
Sophie's stomach tightened. She hadn't been able to sleep properly since that night—the dust of the forbidden shelves still clung to her thoughts, and the strange, foreboding words of the prophecy echoed in her head. A queen of two worlds… salvation or ruin.
And now Alexander's gaze lingered too long. His silence at dinner the night before, his eyes sharp and unreadable, had made her skin crawl.
She forced herself to stand, pulling on the robe Eira handed her. "We can't stop now. Whatever happened to Seraphina… it's connected to that prophecy. I can feel it. And if Alexander is guarding me this closely, then maybe he fears the same thing."
Eira lowered her voice, leaning closer. "But what if his fear makes him dangerous to you, Sophie? The king… he has ended lives for less than trespassing in the forbidden library."
Sophie swallowed. She knew Eira was right, yet retreat was no longer an option. She had been dragged into this world, mistaken for a queen she wasn't—and if she didn't uncover the truth, she'd forever be living under the shadow of Seraphina. Worse, she might never find a way back to her own world.
She moved to the window, peering through the sheer curtains at the gardens below. Guards lined the paths, their armor glinting in the pale light. It felt less like protection and more like a cage.
"They want me afraid," Sophie said softly. "But fear only means we're getting closer."
Eira's brow furrowed. "Closer to what?"
Sophie turned, determination flickering in her eyes. "To Seraphina. To why she disappeared. To why I'm here at all."
That evening, during dinner, Sophie felt the full weight of Alexander's scrutiny.
He sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable as ever, but his eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes—rarely strayed from her. The councilmen murmured among themselves, throwing sidelong glances at her as though she were a wild card they couldn't quite place.
The food was exquisite—roasted venison glazed with honey, spiced root vegetables, wine that shimmered like liquid rubies—but Sophie barely tasted it. Every movement, every word, felt measured under Alexander's gaze.
"Do you find the palace to your liking?" His voice cut through the clatter of cutlery, smooth but edged.
Sophie's fork stilled. "It's… grander than anywhere I've ever seen," she replied carefully.
His lips curved, though it was not a smile. "And yet you roam its halls at night."
The air thickened. Sophie forced herself not to flinch, though her heart skipped. "A palace this large is easy to get lost in."
A few councilmen chuckled nervously. Alexander's gaze never wavered.
"Be careful where your curiosity leads you," he said softly, yet every syllable struck like a blade. "Some doors are locked for a reason."
Eira, standing just behind Sophie, shifted uncomfortably. Sophie tightened her grip on her goblet and forced a smile. "Duly noted, Your Majesty."
But inside, her pulse raced. He knew. He was warning her without openly accusing her.
And that frightened her more than anger ever could.
Later that night, in the quiet safety of her chambers, Sophie paced the floor while Eira sat on the edge of the bed, biting her lip.
"We need to be smarter," Sophie whispered fiercely. "Alexander's watching me like a hawk. If we're careless, he'll have proof, and then…"
Eira lowered her gaze. "Then he'll destroy you."
Sophie stopped pacing, running a hand through her hair. The thought chilled her to the bone, but she couldn't let fear paralyze her. "Which means we can't stop. We just need another way."
Eira glanced up. "Another way to investigate Seraphina?"
"Yes." Sophie's eyes hardened. "If Alexander's tightening his grip, it means we're close to something he doesn't want me to know—or something he fears I'll discover. Either way, that means we're on the right track."
She crossed to the small desk tucked into the corner and pulled out the scrap of parchment she had smuggled from the library. The torn piece of prophecy. Her fingers traced the faded ink.
"Salvation or ruin," she whispered. "That's what it said."
Eira shivered. "If the prophecy speaks of you, Sophie… what if you bring ruin instead of salvation?"
Sophie looked at her sharply. "I don't know. But I'll be damned if I let anyone else decide that for me—not Alexander, not Draven, not the prophecy itself."
Her voice trembled, but her resolve was real. For the first time since being dragged into this strange world, she felt something like power in her own hands.
Eira hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Then we'll keep going. But carefully. Perhaps… we could question the older servants. Those who were here when Queen Seraphina vanished. They might know things they've been too afraid to speak."
Sophie's eyes lit with possibility. "Yes. That's it. They'll talk to you more easily than to me. You've been here all your life—you're one of them. You can ask the questions without drawing suspicion."
Eira still looked uneasy, but she gave a small, determined nod.
Outside the chamber, the muffled sound of boots shifted—guards standing vigil just beyond the door. Sophie glanced at it, her stomach twisting. The cage had closed tighter, but she wasn't about to give up.
If Alexander wanted to keep her under watch, fine. Let him watch.
She would play the role of the obedient queen-to-be. She would smile when spoken to, nod when commanded, keep her secrets tucked behind lowered lashes.
And when he least expected it, she would uncover the truth he feared so much.
That night, as Sophie finally lay down to sleep, she stared at the canopy overhead, her mind spinning with plans. The footsteps outside her door never ceased, a reminder of the invisible chains tightening around her.
But in her chest, a spark of defiance burned bright.
If destiny wanted to cage her, then she would find a way to break the lock.
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