Sera
Irina’s smile vanished. She sat perfectly still, her chest rising and falling in short, pained hitches. The arrogance drained out of her, leaving something hollowed out. She stared at the crystal, her pupils dilated with the realization that she had no cards left to play. She was trapped.
I watched her process it. I saw the moment she accepted the cage. Keeping Torin alive was the only move that kept her head on her shoulders.
"You wanted us to kill him, didn't you?" I asked, pocketing the crystal, and crossed my arms. "You were pushing Yvara. You were taunting them. Because you knew killing Torin would undo the face graft on Bram. You wanted the illusion to fail. You wanted the council to see the guard’s face."
Irina didn't say anything. She just stared at me, her eyes hard as flint.
I let out a heavy breath, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Thank the gods I stayed patient. If I’d used my exhausted brain to just go on with the plan, everything would be chaos right now. That was exactly what you wanted. A bloodbath to cover your exit."
I shook my head, pacing the small gap between the bed and the chair. "But it wouldn't have changed anything for you. You’d still be going back to a husband who views you as a placeholder."
Irina’s lips curled again, that small, sharp smile returning. "Maybe. But it would have made your life a lot more difficult, Sera. And that would have been enough for me."
We stared at each other for a long time. The silence in the room was heavy, filled with the ghosts of the family we were supposed to be. I saw the monster in her, and I knew she saw the one growing in me.
I shook my head and pushed off the wall. "Good thing I caught it on time. Now, comes the original discussion. You're going back to Valdris. You'll present the King's own marriage seal to him. Torin already signed his part as the delegate. Now it’s your turn. The two representatives from the South, witnessing the union."
I pulled the parchment from my belt. It was heavy, yellowed, and carried the official ink of the Valdris and Volkov houses. Torin’s signature was at the bottom, a shaky, desperate scrawl.
"What happens if I don't sign it?" Irina asked. She didn't look at the paper. She looked at me.
I shrugged. "Then I just send the recording to father earlier. I'll save you the trip."
Irina smiled. It was a tired look. "But that also ruins your plan, doesn't it? If Aldric kills me and Torin, your alliance with the South is dead. You lose your buffer."


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