— Seraphina's perfect mask, Lucien's warmth, Adrien's fire, Evelyne's quiet strength — this second chapter should:
Show Adrien and Lucien together, a subtle clash in their words.
Seraphina appearing gracious, but quietly planting seeds of rivalry.
Evelyne witnessing, offering quiet truth that Adrien ignores.
End with tension — a sense that masks are slipping, even if the court doesn't see it yet.
---
Chapter Two: Rivals in Shadow
The council chamber smelled of wax and parchment, its tall windows spilling pale morning light across the table.
Lucien stood at one end, listening as Lord Marrow droned about grain taxes. Adrien lounged opposite him, chair tilted back, a bored smile curving his lips.
"—a levy of two percent more will balance the treasury," Marrow concluded pompously.
"Or drive farmers into the river," Adrien cut in lazily, eyes flicking toward the lord. "Numbers stacked on parchment do not grow grain, my lord."
Marrow flushed. "The kingdom must pay for roads."
"Then ride them yourself and see if they're worth the coin," Adrien said.
Lucien's voice slid between them, calm but firm. "Adrien."
Adrien turned, the smile sharp. "Did I speak untrue?"
"You spoke without care," Lucien replied.
"And you speak with too much," Adrien returned.
The room stilled. Only the King's pen scratched faintly at a document.
From her place at the side, Seraphina stepped forward smoothly, voice calm. "Might I suggest a compromise? A smaller levy now, with review after harvest. The farmers see relief, the crown secures roads, and no one drowns in rivers of debt."
Lucien inclined his head. "Wise."
Adrien's gaze lingered on her, unreadable. "Practical," he murmured. "But every compromise is a cut. Sooner or later, the body bleeds."
Seraphina met his eyes without flinching. "Better a shallow cut than a mortal wound."
"Unless the cut is poisoned," Adrien said softly.
The words hung too long. Lucien broke the silence. "Enough. The levy will be reduced and reviewed. Council is dismissed."
The lords filed out with relief.
When the chamber emptied, only the brothers, Seraphina, and Evelyne remained.
"You could have held your tongue," Lucien said quietly to Adrien.
"And you could have used yours to say something worth hearing," Adrien replied.
Seraphina's voice slipped between them like silk. "Disagreement sharpens policy, does it not? One speaks for safety, one for strength. Both are needed."
Adrien's eyes narrowed. "You play mediator well, my lady. Too well."
Lucien frowned. "Do not make a game of her words."
"Perhaps her words make a game of us," Adrien shot back.
The air grew taut. Evelyne stepped forward, her tone even. "My lords, a court that quarrels over words will find swords drawn faster than reason. And swords draw blood more easily than ink."
Adrien looked at her, and for a flicker his anger eased. Then he shook his head. "You speak like a healer. The world is not healed with cautions."
"Nor with wounds," Evelyne returned softly.
Lucien exhaled, steady. "Enough. Brother, walk with me."
Adrien rose. For a moment, he met Seraphina's gaze — and in that single heartbeat, her perfect smile curved just slightly, as if pleased.
Then he turned on his heel and followed Lucien from the chamber.
Evelyne watched them go, her hands folded. To Seraphina she said quietly, "You carry calm well."
Seraphina's lips curved. "Calm is a gown that must be worn often, my lady. Or no one believes it fits."
Evelyne studied her. "And does it fit?"
"For now," Seraphina said sweetly. "Perfectly."
---
✨ This chapter:
Adrien and Lucien's subtle rivalry begins openly.
Seraphina smooths things over, but Adrien senses the edge in her words.
Evelyne offers reason, showing her quiet strength.
Ends with Seraphina keeping her mask — but a little too perfect, hinting at the villain beneath.
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