That was the last comforting thought I had before Lily returned with a tray of food, a stack of folded clothes, and a look that said, "You're not going to like this."
I was halfway through a suspiciously purple pastry—tasted like a blueberry and a sweet potato had a baby—when she cleared her throat.
"The court is expecting you at breakfast," she said gently, setting the clothes down on a nearby chair.
I blinked. "This is breakfast."
She smiled, the kind of smile that said you sweet, doomed creature. "That was a snack, Your Highness. The royal family dines together in the Sunspire Hall. It's… tradition."
I stared at her. Then at the tray. Then back at her.
"So I have to go out there. In front of everyone. And pretend I'm not a walking identity crisis in fancy boots?"
Lily hesitated. "Yes."
I sighed and flopped back onto the mountain of pillows. "Okay. But I'm not wearing anything with lace. Or bows. Or sleeves that could double as sails."
She brightened. "In that case… I may have just the thing.
Ten minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the silver clasp on my half-cape and trying not to look too impressed with myself.
The outfit was sleek, white, and just dramatic enough to make a statement. Midnight-blue tunic with silver embroidery, fitted leggings, armored boots, and a high collar that made me feel like I could command a battlefield—or at least a very tense brunch.
My silver hair was pulled into a high braid, and the faint glow of the thorned crown mark on my collarbone pulsed beneath the fabric like a heartbeat.
I didn't look like a princess.
I looked like a problem.
"Well. If I'm going to be executed for impersonating royalty, I might as well look amazing doing it."
Before entering the Sunspire Hall, I asked Lily about the people who would be in there waiting for me since I don't know about anything. After she gave me a brief lecture about the people, I was ready to head in.
The towering doors to the Sunspire Hall creaked open.
Voices hushed. Heads turned. Forks paused mid-air.
I stepped into the hall, boots clicking against polished stone, cape fluttering behind me like a banner of war.
The room was a masterpiece of excess—vaulted ceilings painted with constellations, chandeliers dripping with crystal, and a table so long it could double as a runway. Which, judging by the way everyone was staring, it basically was.
I kept walking, spine straight, eyes forward. I didn't know who half these people were, but I knew one thing: they were all judging me. Measuring me. Wondering if I was still the same Seraphina they remembered.
Spoiler alert: I wasn't.
"Good morning, everyone. Miss me?" I didn't say it out loud, but I thought it really hard. Maybe someone would pick up on the psychic sarcasm.
I reached my seat—third from the head of the table, just below the king's throne—and sat down without waiting for permission. A few nobles twitched. One actually gasped.
Good.
Let them choke on their etiquette.
To my left sat Prince Vaelen Elarielle my older cousin who was raised alongside me like a sibling. He turned to me with a smile so polished it could've been used as a mirror.
"Seraphina," he said smoothly, "you're looking… radiant. The court is overjoyed by your return."
I gave him my best dead-eyed smile. "I'm sure they are."
He chuckled, but there was a flicker of something behind his smile. Suspicion. Doubt. Maybe even fear.
To my right, Princess Mireya Elarielle, my younger half-sister who didn't even look up from her tea.
"Nice outfit," she said, voice flat. "Did you raid the royal armory on your way here?"
I leaned in just enough for her to hear me. "I figured if I'm going to be surrounded by knives, I might as well bring my own."
She blinked. Then, for the briefest moment, smiled.
It wasn't a nice smile.
The king sat at the head of the table, silent and still. His crown sat crooked on his head, and his eyes were fixed on something far away—maybe the past. Maybe the bottom of his wine goblet.
He didn't acknowledge me. Didn't speak. Didn't even blink.
"Cool. So that's my dad. King Paperweight in the flesh."
I turned my attention to the food. There were at least twelve dishes, none of which I recognized. I poked something jiggly and green with a fork. It jiggled back.
"Your Highness," a voice called from across the table.
I looked up to see Uncle Thalen, smiling like a man who'd just found a coin on the ground and was wondering if he could claim it as his own.
"We're all so pleased to see you well," he said. "Your return is… nothing short of miraculous."
"Thanks," I said, stabbing the green blob. "I'm as surprised as you are."
A few nobles chuckled. Thalen didn't.
A few nobles chuckled. Thalen didn't.
"I trust you'll be joining us for the court assembly in three days," he continued. "There's much to discuss. The future of the crown, for instance."
Ah. There it was.
The trap.
I set down my fork and met his gaze. "Of course. I wouldn't miss it."
He inclined his head. "Excellent. I'm sure the court will be eager to hear your thoughts on the kingdom's… direction."
"Translation: We're going to test you, and if you fail, we'll feed you to the wolves."
I smiled sweetly. "I've got a few ideas. I'm sure they'll be… illuminating."
By the time breakfast ended, I'd memorized at least ten names, dodged three passive-aggressive insults, and eaten exactly one bite of something that might've been bread.
As I stood to leave, I caught Vaelen watching me. He raised his goblet in a silent toast.
I raised an eyebrow in return.
"You want the throne? You'll have to pry it from my cold, sarcastic hands."
Back in my chambers, I collapsed into a chair and kicked off my boots.
Lily entered a moment later, carrying a stack of scrolls. "You were incredible," she said, setting them down. "They didn't know what to make of you."
"Good," I muttered. "Confusion is my favorite armor."
She hesitated. "There's something else. A message arrived while you were at breakfast. From the western border."
I looked up. "Let me guess. More bad news?"
She handed me the scroll. "It's from General Cael. The border towns are under siege. The demons are moving again."
I stared at the parchment, the wax seal already cracked. The words inside were brief. Blunt. Bleeding.
Requesting reinforcements. Immediate deployment required.
My stomach twisted. "So… what? They want me to read this at court? Approve a strategy?"
Lily didn't answer.
She just looked at me.
And that's when it hit me.
"They are sending me to the war."