Vincenzo's POV
The torch flies toward my face in slow motion.
I have maybe two seconds before Sera and I burn alive. Two seconds to make a choice that will decide if we live or die.
My mafia instincts kick in—the same instincts that kept me alive through gang wars and assassination attempts. I twist my body, turning my back to shield Sera from the flames. The torch hits my shoulder and bounces off, landing on the floor behind me. Pain screams through my burned skin, but I ignore it.
The robed figure is already reaching for another torch from the burning wall.
I do the only thing I can—I run straight at them.
"You want me dead?" I snarl, charging with Sera's unconscious body in my arms. "Then don't hide behind a hood like a coward!"
The figure wasn't expecting me to attack. They stumble backward into the smoke-filled hallway. I slam into them with my shoulder, knocking them aside. They crash into the wall with a grunt—definitely male, judging by the sound.
I keep running. Through the smoke. Through the heat. My lungs are burning. My vision is blurry from the smoke and tears. But I can see a window at the end of the hallway—one of those large palace windows that overlooks the garden.
The robed assassin is chasing us now. I hear his footsteps pounding behind me, getting closer.
Ten feet from the window.
Five feet.
"STOP OR SHE DIES!" the assassin screams.
I don't stop. I run faster.
At the last second, I turn my body so my back hits the window first. The glass explodes around us as we crash through. For a moment, we're flying through the night air—me, Sera, and a thousand pieces of sparkling glass.
Then we hit the garden bushes below.
The landing drives all the air from my lungs. Pain explodes through my entire body. My burned shoulder feels like someone's pressing a hot iron against it. But I managed to keep Sera on top of me, using my body to absorb most of the impact.
Above us, the robed figure appears in the broken window. They stare down at us for a long moment. Then they turn and disappear back into the burning building.
"Your Highness!" Guards come running from all directions, their torches bobbing in the darkness. "Are you hurt? Is Lady Sera—"
"Get the fire under control!" I gasp, coughing up smoke. "And find whoever was in that hallway! Dark robes, male, medium height. He tried to kill us!"
The guards scatter, shouting orders. Within minutes, the palace is swarming with soldiers searching for the assassin. But I already know they won't find him. Whoever he was, he's a professional. Probably already removed the robes and blended back into the palace staff.
A healer rushes over, the same old physician who treated Sera earlier. Her eyes go wide when she sees us.
"You jumped through a window? With stab wounds? And burns?" She sounds like she can't decide if I'm brave or insane. "Lie down. Both of you. Now."
"Is Sera breathing?" That's all I care about.
The physician checks Sera's pulse, listens to her breathing. "Yes. The smoke didn't get to her lungs, thanks to you shielding her. But we need to get you both inside—to a different wing, obviously—and treat these new injuries."
They carry us to the East Wing, as far from the fire as possible. They lay Sera on a bed and immediately start checking her stab wound to make sure it didn't reopen during our dramatic exit.
I refuse to lie down until I know she's okay.
"Prince Cassian," the physician says sternly, "you have a burned shoulder, three bleeding wounds that reopened, cuts from broken glass, and you probably broke a rib when you landed. Sit. Down."
"After you tell me Sera's condition."
The old woman's expression softens. "The stab wound held. She's still unconscious, but her vital signs are stable. She's a fighter, that one." She points at a chair. "Now sit before you collapse and I have two unconscious royals to deal with."
I finally let myself sink into the chair. My whole body feels like one giant bruise. The adrenaline is wearing off, and suddenly everything hurts.
As the physician treats my burns and re-stitches my wounds, I think about what just happened. The fire wasn't an accident. It started right next to Sera's room. The robed assassin was waiting, expecting me to come for her.
Someone wants Sera dead. Badly enough to burn down part of the palace.
Adrian's words echo in my head: "Someone's been poisoning Lady Sera for the past six months."
Who benefits from Sera dying? Who benefits from the Blackthorn military alliance failing?
My mind races through possibilities. Enemy kingdoms. Rival noble families. Someone who wants the throne weakened before making their move.
But before I can think deeper, the door bursts open.
A tall man strides in wearing armor marked with the Blackthorn family crest—a black hawk clutching a sword. He's maybe forty-five, with the same black hair and green eyes as Sera, but his face is harder. Scarred from old battles. This is a man who's seen war.
Behind him are ten soldiers, all wearing Blackthorn colors.
The man's eyes find Sera on the bed, unconscious and bandaged. His face goes from concern to fury in an instant.
"What did you do to my daughter?" His voice could cut steel.
Oh. This must be Lord Blackthorn. Sera's father.
And he looks like he wants to kill me.
"Lord Blackthorn—" I start to stand, but my body protests painfully. "Your daughter saved my life. Twice. She's a hero—"
"A hero?" Lord Blackthorn's hand drops to his sword. "A HERO? She's DYING because she was stupid enough to protect YOU! The same wastrel prince who humiliated her six months ago! The same drunk who destroyed her reputation!"
His soldiers move forward, hands on their weapons. The palace guards stationed outside the door rush in, creating a tense standoff.
"Father, wait—" I try again.
"Don't call me that!" Lord Blackthorn roars. "You have no right! You destroyed my daughter's life once. Now you've nearly gotten her killed!" He draws his sword fully now. "I should cut you down where you sit."
"Then do it." The words come out calm, cold. My mafia voice. "But it won't change what happened. It won't save Sera. It won't stop whoever's trying to kill her."
That makes him pause. "What do you mean, 'trying to kill her'?"
"Someone set fire to the medical wing tonight. Specifically targeted Sera's room. When I went to save her, an assassin tried to burn us both alive." I meet his furious gaze steadily. "And according to my brother Adrian, someone's been slowly poisoning Sera for months. Making her weak. Destroying her from the inside."
Lord Blackthorn's face goes pale. "Poisoning? That's... that's impossible. Who would—"
"I don't know yet." I force myself to stand, even though my body screams in protest. "But I'm going to find out. And when I do, they'll wish they'd never touched her."
Something in my voice—the cold promise of violence—makes Lord Blackthorn study me more carefully.
"You're different," he says slowly. "Six months ago at the engagement ball, you were a sniveling drunk who could barely stand. Now you sound like..." He trails off, searching for the word.
"Like someone who keeps his promises?" I finish. "I am. The man who hurt Sera at that ball is gone. Dead. I'm what's left. And I swear on everything I am—I will protect your daughter. I will find who's trying to kill her. And I will make them pay."
Lord Blackthorn is quiet for a long moment. His soldiers are tense, waiting for his command. One word from him, and they'll attack. One word from me, and the palace guards will defend.
This could turn into a bloodbath in seconds.
Finally, Lord Blackthorn sheathes his sword.
"I don't trust you, Prince Cassian. I don't believe your promises. But my daughter risked her life to save yours, which means she sees something in you I don't." He walks to Sera's bedside, his hand gentle as he brushes hair from her face. "When she wakes up—IF she wakes up—she'll decide whether you live or die. Not me."
"Fair enough."
"Until then, my soldiers will guard her room. No one gets in without my permission. That includes you." Lord Blackthorn's eyes are hard as stone. "If she dies while under palace protection, I'll bring the entire Blackthorn army down on this kingdom. King or no king, alliance or no alliance."
It's not a threat. It's a promise.
"Understood." I bow my head slightly. "May I ask one question?"
"What?"
"How did you get here so fast? The fire only started an hour ago."
Lord Blackthorn's expression grows darker. "I received an urgent message yesterday claiming Sera was gravely ill and might not survive. I rode through the night to reach her." He pulls out a piece of paper. "The message was signed by you, Prince Cassian."
Ice floods my veins. "I didn't send any message."
"I know that now." Lord Blackthorn crumples the paper. "Someone wanted me here. Wanted me to arrive and find my daughter dying. Wanted me to blame you and start a war between our families."
The pieces click together in my mind. The assassination attempt. The fire. The fake message. It's all connected.
Someone is trying to destroy the Blackthorn-Asterion alliance completely. Make it look like the royal family killed Sera. Turn the Blackthorn army against the throne.
But why? What's the endgame?
Before I can voice these thoughts, Sera makes a sound. A small, pained moan.
Everyone freezes.
"Sera?" Lord Blackthorn grabs her hand. "Baby, can you hear me?"
Her eyes flutter. Open slightly. Those fierce green eyes that saw through me from the start.
"Father?" Her voice is barely a whisper, weak and confused. "What... what happened?"
"You were stabbed, then nearly burned alive." Lord Blackthorn's voice breaks. "But you're safe now."
Sera's eyes move around the room until they find me standing in the corner, bandaged and burned. For a moment, I can't read her expression.
Then she speaks, each word an effort: "Cassian... jumped through... a window... to save me?"
"Apparently," her father says with distaste.
A tiny smile crosses Sera's pale lips. "Stupid prince." Then her eyes close again, and she drifts back into unconsciousness.
The physician rushes over. "She's okay. Just exhausted. The fact that she woke up at all is a very good sign."
Relief floods through me so strongly I have to sit down before I fall down.
Lord Blackthorn looks at me with slightly less murder in his eyes. "She called you stupid. That's more affection than she's shown you in six months."
Despite everything—the pain, the fear, the exhaustion—I almost laugh.
"I'll take what I can get."
Lord Blackthorn stands, his soldiers moving to flank him. "We'll stay in the palace until she's well enough to travel. Then I'm taking her home where she's safe."
"What about the Northern Territory assignment?" I ask. "The King ordered me to—"
"I don't care about the King's orders." Lord Blackthorn's voice is final. "My daughter almost died twice tonight. She's not going anywhere dangerous."
He leaves with his soldiers, stationing guards outside Sera's door as promised.
I'm left alone with my thoughts and my pain.
The physician finishes bandaging my burns. "You should sleep, Your Highness. Your body needs rest to heal."
But I can't sleep. My mind won't stop racing.
Someone tried to kill Sera tonight. Someone forged my signature to bring her father here. Someone's been poisoning her for months.
Adrian is locked in the dungeon, so it's not him. But he knows who it is—I'm sure of that now. He practically admitted it.
I need answers. I need to know who's targeting Sera and why.
I stand up, ignoring the physician's protests, and head for the door.
"Where are you going?" she calls after me.
"To have another chat with my dear brother."
The dungeons are quiet at this hour. Most prisoners are asleep. My footsteps echo on the stone floor as I walk to Adrian's cell.
He's awake, sitting on his bench like he was expecting me.
"Back so soon?" Adrian's smile is knowing. "Let me guess—someone tried to kill Lady Sera, and now you want to know who."
"Talk."
"And what do I get in return?" Adrian stands, walking to the bars. "I'm already convicted of treason. Already facing execution. What can you possibly offer me?"
I think fast. In my mafia days, I learned everyone wants something. Even men facing death.
"A quick death instead of a slow one," I say quietly. "The traditional punishment for poisoning a king is three days of torture before execution. But I could convince Father to make it quick. Painless. One clean beheading."
Adrian's smile falters slightly. He's scared. Good.
"You'd do that? For information?"
"For Sera's life? Yes."
Adrian is silent for a long moment. Then: "Fine. But you have to promise on the crown itself. Swear you'll give me a clean death."
"I swear on the crown of Asterion."
"Very well." Adrian leans close to the bars and whispers a name.
The name makes my blood run cold.
"That's impossible," I breathe. "They're—"
"Closer than you think? More dangerous than you imagined? Yes." Adrian's smile returns. "And they won't stop until Sera Blackthorn is dead and the alliance is destroyed. You can't protect her, little brother. No one can."
"Why? Why do they want her dead?"
"Because—"
A crossbow bolt suddenly punches through Adrian's throat.
He gasps, blood bubbling from his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. He tries to speak, but only more blood comes out.
I spin around. In the shadows at the far end of the corridor stands another robed figure. They're already loading a second bolt into their crossbow.
Aimed at me.
"You ask too many questions, Prince Cassian," the figure says. Their voice is distorted, mechanical. "Some secrets should stay buried."
The crossbow fires.