ELARA'S POV
I threw the breakfast tray at the door.
Porcelain shattered. Food splattered across expensive wood. The guard who'd brought it jumped back, eyes wide.
Tell the General I'm not eating his food! I shouted. Tell him I'd rather starve!
The guard fled. Good.
Three days I'd been trapped in this fortress. Three days since the nightmare wedding. Three days since I'd almost let Kaedan see me as human instead of enemy.
That stopped now.
I went back to searching my rooms for the hundredth time. There had to be a way out. A loose stone, a forgotten passage, something.
My fingers found nothing but solid walls.
Your Highness? Mira's voice came from the doorway. May I enter?
If you must.
She stepped in carefully, avoiding the broken porcelain. I brought news from the capital.
Despite myself, I turned. What news?
Emperor Valtor officially declared your sister Cassia as Ashencourt's new queen yesterday. Mira's voice was gentle, like she was delivering bad news to a child. She's engaged to Duke Matthias now. Not Prince Theron.
My hands clenched into fists. Of course she is. Theron wasn't useful anymore, so she traded up.
The announcement said their wedding will be in two months. A grand celebration to unite—
Stop. I couldn't hear more. Couldn't stomach the image of Cassia in our mother's wedding dress, marrying another traitor, celebrating on our father's grave. She gets everything she wanted by murdering our father, and the world throws her a party.
I'm sorry, Your Highness.
Don't be sorry. Just... I sank onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. Just leave me alone.
After Mira left, I stayed there. Staring at nothing. Feeling nothing.
No. That was wrong. I felt everything, rage, grief, helplessness, and underneath it all, a terrifying numbness creeping in.
Maybe starving myself wasn't spite. Maybe I just didn't care anymore.
That evening, guards came to escort me to dinner. I ignored them.
Princess, one said nervously. The General requests
I don't care what he requests.
He said you'd refuse. He also said to tell you he'd wait exactly ten minutes. Then he'd come get you himself.
Something in his tone made me look up. The guard looked genuinely worried. For me.
He wouldn't dare.
The guard's expression said otherwise.
I didn't want Kaedan dragging me to dinner like a child. So I stood, lifted my chin, and walked.
Small victory. I chose to go.
The dining room felt smaller tonight. More intimate. Kaedan sat at the head of the table, reading something. He looked up when I entered, and those silver eyes tracked my every movement.
I felt his gaze like a physical touch.
You came, he said.
You threatened me.
I gave you a choice. There's a difference. He gestured to the chair beside him. Sit. Eat.
I sat but didn't touch the food. Just stared at my plate while my stomach growled traitorously.
Kaedan ate in silence for several minutes. Then: You haven't eaten properly in three days.
How would you know?
The kitchen reports what you send back. Which is everything. He set down his fork. You're starving yourself, Elara.
I'm not hungry.
You're lying. I can hear your stomach from here.
Heat flooded my cheeks. I hated my body for betraying me. Maybe I just don't want food touched by my enemy's hands.
The cook is from Ashencourt. One of your own people. She's not your enemy.
That surprised me. I looked up. You kept Ashencourt servants?
The ones who wanted to stay, yes. They cook your food, clean your rooms, tend the gardens. His eyes held mine. I'm not trying to erase your kingdom, Elara. Just conquer it.
How generous.
It's practical. Happy servants don't poison their masters. He leaned back. Now eat. You're starving yourself out of spite, and it's childish.
The word childish ignited my temper like oil on fire.
Childish? I stood so fast my chair scraped backward. My father was murdered six days ago! My sister betrayed me! I was forced to marry his killer! And you call me childish for grieving?
I call you childish for choosing slow death over survival. His voice stayed calm, which made my rage burn hotter. Grief is natural. Self-destruction is stupidity.
Maybe I want to die!
Kaedan moved.
One second he was across the table. The next, he was beside my chair, hands braced on the armrests, caging me in. His face was inches from mine, silver eyes burning with intensity I'd never seen.
No, you don't. His voice was dangerously soft. If you wanted death, you would've begged for it at the altar. You could've forced my hand, made me execute you. But you didn't.
Maybe I should have!
But you didn't. He leaned closer—so close I could see the gold flecks in his eyes, smell steel and snow. You chose rage instead. You spat in my face, threw wine at me, fought every single second. That's not someone who wants to die, Elara. That's someone who wants to live but doesn't know what to live for yet.
His words hit like arrows finding their mark.
You don't know anything about me, I whispered.
I know you're stronger than you think. I know you're terrified of being weak, so you use anger as armor. I know that right now, you're more afraid of surviving than dying because survival means facing what happened.
How did he see so clearly? How did he read me like a book when I'd spent days building walls?
Get away from me. My voice shook.
Eat first.
No.
His jaw tightened. For a moment, something dangerous flashed in his eyes—frustration, maybe. Or concern.
Then he straightened and stepped back, giving me space.
Fine. Starve yourself. Watch yourself waste away in the mirror. See how long your pride feeds you when your body gives out.
He turned toward the door.
Where are you going? I demanded.
Away. Before I do something we'll both regret. He paused at the threshold. Like forcing food down your throat to keep you alive despite your best efforts to die.
You wouldn't dare!
He looked back, and his expression was cold fury mixed with something that looked almost like... fear?
You have no idea what I'd dare to protect what's mine, Princess. No idea at all.
He left, slamming the door behind him.
I stood alone in the dining room, shaking. Not from fear.
From the realization that Kaedan Drakmir, the cold, ruthless general, actually cared whether I lived or died.
And I had no idea why.
That night, I woke to sounds in my room.
Not from Kaedan's room next door. From my room.
Someone was here.
I sat up slowly, heart pounding. A figure moved in the shadows near my window.
Who's there? I whispered.
The figure turned. Moonlight caught familiar brown hair.
Mira?
She pressed a finger to her lips, then moved closer. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible.
Your Highness, I don't have much time. I need to tell you something about the General.
What about him?
He's not who you think he is. Mira glanced at the door nervously. The Emperor is coming in four days, not one week. And when he arrives, he's planning to execute General Kaedan for treason.
Ice flooded my veins. What?
It's a trap. The Emperor never wanted the Vault found, he wanted an excuse to eliminate his half-brother. He's been planning this for months. Mira's eyes were urgent. The General doesn't know yet. But when he finds out, there's going to be war.
My mind reeled. Why are you telling me this?
Because you're the only one who can convince him to run. To save himself. She grabbed my hand. The General cares about you, Your Highness. I've seen how he looks at you. If you ask him to flee, he might listen.
He killed my father. Why would I save him?
Because if he dies, the Emperor takes you next. And trust me—death would be kinder than what Valtor has planned for you.
Before I could respond, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Mira's eyes went wide with fear. I have to go. Think about what I said. You have four days.
She slipped out through a door I hadn't known existed—a servant's passage hidden behind a tapestry.
I stood alone in the darkness, mind racing.
The Emperor was coming to execute Kaedan.
And somehow, impossibly, I had to decide: let my father's killer die?
Or save the one man standing between me and something worse?