Seraphina's POV
The cathedral doors opened, and a thousand eyes turned to stare.
I stood at the entrance in my black funeral dress, crimson edges catching the light like fresh blood. The maids had wanted to change the color. It's inappropriate, my lady. Disrespectful.
I'd smiled and told them that was exactly the point.
Organ music swelled—a wedding march that sounded more like a dirge. I took my first step down the aisle, alone. No father to give me away. No family to witness this mockery. Just me and the whispers that followed like hungry ghosts.
Scandalous.
Wearing black to her own wedding.
The Ashmont girl always was peculiar.
I kept my chin high and my eyes forward. Let them whisper. Let them judge. They were cowards who'd watched my family die and done nothing.
The cathedral stretched endlessly before me. Nobles packed the pews in their finest silks and jewels, treating this like entertainment. I recognized faces—people who'd once visited Ashmont Keep, who'd eaten at my father's table, who'd called me dear girl and promised their friendship.
Not one had spoken up when my family was slaughtered.
Then I saw him.
Damien stood near the front, wearing expensive court advisor robes. My ex-fiancé. The man who'd sworn to love me forever, who'd kissed me in my father's garden and promised we'd have a beautiful life together.
Our eyes met for one brief second.
He looked away.
Rage flared hot in my chest, but I swallowed it down. I'd learned in prison that rage was only useful when controlled, when aimed like a weapon. Screaming and crying accomplished nothing.
Patience. Planning. Those were my weapons now.
I walked past Damien without acknowledging him, my footsteps echoing in the vast space.
And then I saw the man waiting at the altar.
General Cassian Valorent stood in full military dress—black uniform with gold insignia marking his rank. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his posture military-straight. Even from a distance, he commanded attention. Power radiated from him like heat from a forge.
I forced myself to keep walking.
With each step, more details emerged. He was younger than I'd realized that horrible night—maybe thirty at most. Tall and broad-shouldered, built like someone who'd spent years training for war. His face was all sharp angles and hard lines, handsome in a brutal way.
But it was his eyes that made me stumble.
Storm-gray and fixed on me with an intensity that stole my breath. Up close, I could see shadows underneath them. Exhaustion. And something else.
Grief?
No. Impossible. Monsters didn't grieve.
I reached the altar and stopped, three feet between us. Close enough to see the muscle ticking in his jaw. Close enough to smell leather and steel and something darker—guilt, maybe, if guilt had a scent.
Dearly beloved, the priest began, rushing through words like he wanted this over quickly.
I barely heard him. All my attention focused on the man beside me. The Butcher of Rothaven. My family's killer. My husband-to-be.
Cassian's eyes never left my face. Studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve. His expression remained carefully blank, but I'd learned to read people in prison. To catch the tiny tells that revealed truth.
He looked... miserable.
Good.
Do you, Lady Seraphina Ashmont, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? the priest asked.
The cathedral went silent. Everyone waited for my answer. Would I refuse? Cause a scene? Give them more gossip to feast on?
I turned to face Cassian fully, looking directly into those storm-gray eyes.
I do, I said clearly.
But in my mind, I added the rest: I do take you as my husband. I do promise to stay by your side. I do vow to be the last thing you see before you die.
His eyes flickered with something I couldn't name.
And do you, General Cassian Valorent, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?
Cassian's response came quiet, almost too soft to hear. I do.
Why did he sound so sad? This was his victory. His prize. I was the conquered enemy, the trophy bride to prove his dominance.
The priest continued. By the power vested in me by Emperor Aldric and the Holy Church, I now pronounce you husband and wife. He paused, looking between us uncertainly. You may kiss the bride.
My entire body tensed. This was it—the moment he'd claim me, mark me as his property in front of everyone.
Cassian didn't move.
Seconds stretched. The crowd stirred, whispers building. The general who'd conquered armies, who'd led men through impossible battles, just stood there looking at me like I was something fragile he was afraid to touch.
General? the priest prompted nervously.
No, Cassian said simply.
Shocked murmurs rippled through the cathedral. You couldn't refuse to kiss your bride. It was tradition. Law. A public claiming.
But Cassian just offered his arm instead. Shall we?
I stared at his extended arm like it was a snake. What game was this? What was he playing at?
I had no choice. Refusing would only make things worse. I placed my hand on his arm, and heat radiated through his sleeve. My fingers trembled with the effort of not recoiling.
We turned to face the crowd as husband and wife.
The Emperor sat in the front row, practically glowing with satisfaction. This whole thing was his entertainment—forcing the conquered girl to marry her family's killer. He'd probably laughed himself sick planning it.
We walked back down the aisle together. Every step felt like walking to my execution. The whispers followed us like a tide.
Did you see? He didn't even kiss her.
Poor thing. Married to the Butcher.
I give it a month before he gets bored and kills her too.
Cassian's arm tensed beneath my hand. Could he hear them? Did he care?
We reached the cathedral doors. Sunlight streamed through, painfully bright after the dim interior. Guards waited outside to escort us to the wedding feast. More performance. More torture.
Cassian stopped just before the threshold. The doors closed behind us, giving us a moment of relative privacy. He turned to face me, and his expression shifted. For just a second, his careful mask slipped.
He looked broken.
I'm sorry, he whispered.
Three words. Simple. Devastating.
Something inside me exploded.
Sorry? He was sorry? Like those words could bring back my father. Could erase my mother's screams. Could make Elias breathe again. Could return the six months I'd spent rotting in prison, watching women die one by one.
Don't, I said, my voice shaking with barely controlled fury. Don't you dare.
Lady Seraphina
I'm not 'Lady' anything anymore. You made sure of that when you murdered my family. When you burned my home. When you took everything I loved and destroyed it.
His jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. Didn't defend himself. Just stood there taking my words like blows.
Why wouldn't he fight back? Why wouldn't he be the monster I needed him to be?
I am your wife now, I continued, each word sharp as broken glass. Bound to you by law and holy vows. You wanted this. The Emperor wanted this. Fine. I'll play the dutiful bride. I'll smile at your feasts and stand by your side and let everyone believe whatever pretty lie makes this easier.
I stepped closer, close enough to see my reflection in his eyes.
But understand this, General. I will hate you every single second. Every breath I take in your presence will be poisoned by that hatred. And one day—maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day—I will make you pay for what you've done.
He didn't flinch. Didn't look away. Just held my gaze with those terrible gray eyes full of ghosts.
I know, he said quietly. I deserve nothing less.
The doors opened. Guards appeared, ready to escort us.
Cassian offered his arm again, his expression once more carefully blank. The broken man vanished, replaced by the cold general.
But I'd seen it. That moment of genuine pain.
It changed nothing. He was still my enemy. Still my family's killer.
But as we stepped into the sunlight toward a wedding feast I didn't want, one thought circled my mind like a vulture:
Why would a monster apologize?
And more terrifying—why did part of me want to understand?
I crushed that thought immediately. Buried it deep.
I was Lady Seraphina Valorent now. The general's wife.
And wives had access to everything.
Including their husband's secrets.
The feast awaited. The Emperor's games were just beginning.
But as Cassian led me toward my gilded prison, I made a silent vow:
I would learn every weakness. Study every habit. Discover every secret.
And when the moment came, I would strike.
Even if the man I'd seen behind his eyes haunted me.
Even if his apology felt genuine.
Even if destroying him meant destroying the only person who seemed to carry the same ghosts I did.
Revenge was all I had left.
I couldn't afford to lose it too.