Kaelen's POV
Kaelen's private study was exactly as Sera remembered it from her childhood—though she'd only glimpsed it once, years ago, when young Princess Cassia had accompanied her father to a meeting with the then-young Duke Nightraven.
Now she stood in it as an enemy. A suspect. A mystery he was determined to solve.
Sit, Kaelen commanded, gesturing to a chair across from his desk.
I'll stand.
Suit yourself. He moved to a cabinet, pouring two glasses of wine. Though you look ready to bolt at any moment. Sitting might help you look less guilty.
I'm not guilty of anything.
Aren't you? Kaelen turned, offering her a glass. When she didn't take it, he set it on the desk. You're guilty of infiltrating court under false pretenses. Of possessing classified information about Imperial conspiracies. Of interfering with official matters. He paused. Of lying to me repeatedly.
I never lied.
No. You just avoided truth very carefully. Kaelen sipped his wine, studying her over the rim of the glass. Which is arguably worse. Lies can be proven false. But careful omissions? Those are much harder to combat.
Sera crossed her arms, maintaining distance between them. Why did you bring me here instead of arresting me?
Because I want answers more than I want a convenient arrest.
And what makes you think I'll give you answers?
Because you need me, Kaelen said simply. He set down his glass and moved closer. You're planning something. Something big enough that you risked returning to court, risked exposure, risked everything. You can't accomplish it alone. And right now, I'm offering to help instead of hinder.
Why?
The question hung in the air.
Kaelen was silent for a long moment. Then he moved to his desk and unlocked a drawer Sera recognized—the one that had always held his most sensitive case files.
He pulled out a folder and opened it.
Princess Cassia's portrait stared up at them.
Sera's breath caught. Seeing her own face—her real face, from five years ago—was like looking at a ghost. The silver-blonde hair. The storm-blue eyes. The expression of desperate innocence.
I think about her every day, Kaelen said quietly, still looking at the portrait. Princess Cassia Valordane. The woman I sentenced to death based on evidence that seemed overwhelming at the time.
Seemed? Sera forced the word past the tightness in her throat.
Five years ago, I believed she was guilty. The weapons in her quarters. The forged letters. The witness testimonies. It all aligned perfectly. Kaelen's jaw tightened. Too perfectly. But I was young, arrogant, certain that duty meant following evidence regardless of doubt. So I read her sentence. Watched them drag her away. Told myself I'd done the right thing.
He looked up at Sera, and the grief in his eyes was devastating.
But I never stopped questioning it. Never stopped seeing her face in my dreams. The way she looked at me when I condemned her—like she couldn't believe no one would save her. Like I'd betrayed something sacred.
Sera's hands trembled. She hid them in her cloak.
So I became obsessed, Kaelen continued. I reviewed every case that came before me a dozen times. I questioned every piece of evidence. I refused to condemn anyone based solely on convenient proof. His voice roughened. Because I was terrified I'd made the same mistake twice. Terrified I'd sent an innocent woman to suffocate in darkness while telling myself it was duty.
He moved closer to Sera, his gray eyes intense.
And then you appeared. Moving like nobility. Speaking about justice with personal passion. Warning Lord Aldwin about a conspiracy using the exact methods employed against Princess Cassia. Kaelen stopped just inches away. So tell me, Lady Sera. What's your connection to what happened five years ago? How do you know so much about a case that should be buried and forgotten?
Sera met his gaze, her heart pounding. What if I told you Princess Cassia was innocent? That every piece of evidence was fabricated by people who wanted her dead?
Then I'd say I suspected that five years too late.
What if I told you the same people who framed her are still in power? Still orchestrating murders? Still destroying innocent lives?
Then I'd ask how you know this.
And if I said I have proof?
Kaelen's breath caught. Then I'd say show me. Show me everything. Let me help you bring them down.
They stood so close now that Sera could feel the heat radiating from him. Could see the exact shade of gray in his eyes, storm clouds and winter steel and barely controlled anguish.
This was the man who'd condemned her. Who'd sent her to seventeen hours of suffocating darkness.
But he was also carrying his own torment. His own guilt. His own desperate need for truth.
If I show you evidence, Sera said carefully, if I let you help me expose this conspiracy—what happens when we're done? When the guilty are punished and truth comes to light?
What do you mean?
I mean Sera's voice shook slightly. What happens to the man who sentenced Princess Cassia based on lies? Who failed to ask the right questions? Who chose duty over justice?
Understanding dawned in Kaelen's eyes. You're asking what punishment I deserve.
I'm asking if you're ready to face consequences for your failures.
Kaelen held her gaze steadily. If bringing down this conspiracy means facing justice for my part in Princess Cassia's conviction, then yes. I'm ready. I've been ready for five years. Guilt has been my constant companion. At least real justice would be concrete. Final.
Something cracked in Sera's chest. This man—this complicated, tormented man—was offering himself up for punishment. Was volunteering for consequences.
Why? she whispered. Why are you so eager to atone?
Because I can still see her face, Kaelen said, his voice breaking. Every night when I close my eyes. Every time I sentence someone else. Every moment I question whether I'm choosing duty or cowardice. He reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and touched her shoulder gently. Someone once told me that doing what's right often costs you personally. But that's precisely when it matters most.
Sera's eyes widened. Those were Lord Aldwin's words. Words he'd spoken to Princess Cassia years ago.
How do you know that? she breathed.
It was in the trial transcripts. One of the things Princess Cassia said when defending herself. Kaelen's hand remained on her shoulder, warm and steady. She spoke about justice. About protecting the powerless. About refusing to become the monster her accusers painted. And I condemned her anyway.
Tears pricked Sera's eyes. She blinked them back furiously.
So yes, Kaelen continued. I'll help you expose this conspiracy. I'll use every resource at my disposal. And when it's done, I'll accept whatever judgment you decide I deserve. Because whether Princess Cassia is dead or— He paused, searching her face. Or alive somehow, impossibly—she deserves justice. Real justice. Not the convenient lie I gave her five years ago.
Sera stared at him, emotions warring in her chest. Hate and hope. Fury and something dangerously close to forgiveness.
I need time, she said finally. To decide whether to trust you.
Fair enough. Kaelen stepped back, giving her space. But Lady Sera, whoever you really are time is something we don't have much of. If Marcellus is planning to move against Lord Aldwin and others, we need to act quickly.
I know.
Then let me help. His voice was urgent now. I have access to Imperial records. Authority to investigate. Resources you can't match alone. Use me. Use everything I can offer. And we'll expose them together.
Sera moved toward the door. I'll consider it.
Will you at least tell me one truth before you go? Kaelen called after her.
She paused, hand on the doorknob. What?
When you look at me, Kaelen said quietly, do you see a monster? Someone beyond redemption? Or do you see someone who might be worthy of a second chance?
Sera turned to face him. The Duke stood silhouetted against lamplight, looking younger somehow. Vulnerable. Like beneath all his authority and control was just a man carrying unbearable guilt.
I see someone who failed when it mattered most, Sera said honestly. But I also see someone willing to face that failure. And maybe—maybe—that counts for something.
She left before he could respond, slipping out into the night.
But as she walked back to her townhouse through dark streets, Sera couldn't stop thinking about Kaelen's gray eyes. About the genuine anguish in his voice. About the way he'd touched her shoulder—gentle, careful, like she was something precious he was terrified of breaking again.
He still didn't know who she really was.
But he suspected. She could see it in the way he watched her. In the questions he asked. In the comparison he kept making to Princess Cassia.
Soon, he would demand the full truth.
And when that moment came, Sera would have to decide: Could she trust the man who'd tried to kill her?
Could she forgive the unforgivable?
Behind her, watching from a shadow-draped alley, a cloaked figure made a decision.
Elara had seen enough. Heard enough through carefully planted listening devices.
Lady Sera was more than a merchant.
She was a threat that needed to be eliminated.
Permanently.