Elara's POV
I have five hours until they execute me.
I pace my cell like a caged animal, my mind racing. There has to be a way out. There's always a way out.
Think, Elara. Think!
The cell is solid stone on three sides with iron bars on the fourth. No windows. No weak points. The magic-suppressing chains are back on my wrists, cutting off my power.
I'm trapped.
"Elara." My father's voice comes from the cell next to mine. I can't see him through the stone wall, but I can hear him. "Stop pacing. You're wasting energy."
"We're going to die in five hours and you want me to relax?"
"I want you to think clearly." His voice is weak but steady. "Your mother didn't raise a quitter. Neither did I."
I press my forehead against the cold stone. "There's no way out, Papa. Seraphine has planned everything perfectly. She has Asheron convinced we're the traitors. She has the whole court on her side. Even if we scream the truth at the trial, who's going to believe us?"
"Then we need to make them believe." He pauses. "Your mother left something behind. Something she hid in case she was killed. Evidence of what she discovered about the curse."
My heart stutters. "What? Where?"
"In her old workroom. The one in the east wing where she did her research. She carved a message into the underside of her desk drawer. Coordinates to where she hid her journals."
Hope flares in my chest. "If we can get those journals—"
"We can prove Seraphine has been poisoning the king for years. We can prove your mother died discovering the truth, not committing treason."
"But we're locked in cells. How are we supposed to—"
Footsteps echo down the corridor.
I freeze. It's too early for the execution. Who's coming?
A figure emerges from the shadows.
Kieran.
He stands in front of my cell, his face unreadable. In his hand, he holds a set of keys.
"Captain," I say carefully. "Did Seraphine send you to kill us early? Save the trouble of a trial?"
"No one sent me." He looks at me for a long moment. "I've been thinking about what your father said. About testing the king's food and wine for dark magic."
My breath catches. "And?"
"I tested samples from the past week. Every single one contained trace amounts of corrupted magic. Not enough to kill immediately, but enough to accumulate over time." His jaw clenches. "Someone has been poisoning His Majesty slowly for years."
"Seraphine," I whisper.
"I don't have proof it's her. But I have proof that someone in the palace with access to the king's meals is responsible." He pulls out a vial filled with dark liquid. "This is from last night's wine. The concentration is ten times higher than the other samples. Whoever did this is accelerating the dosage."
Because she knows time is running out. Because I healed Asheron and bought him more time, and she needs him dead before the truth comes out.
"You believe us," I say, hardly daring to hope.
"I believe the evidence." Kieran unlocks my cell door. "But I need more than poison traces to arrest Lady Seraphine. She's too powerful. I need concrete proof that she's behind this."
"My mother's journals," I say quickly. "She documented everything. They're hidden in her old workroom in the east wing."
"Then we don't have much time." He unlocks my father's cell next. "The trial is at dawn. We have four hours to find those journals, get them to the king, and pray he believes us before Seraphine can spin another lie."
My father stumbles out, leaning heavily on the wall. He looks even worse in better light—hollow cheeks, scars from torture, eyes that have seen too much darkness.
Kieran catches him before he falls. "Can you walk?"
"I can do whatever I have to do to see that woman burn." My father's voice is steel wrapped in exhaustion.
We move quickly through the black cells, Kieran leading the way. He knows the guard rotations, knows which corridors to avoid.
"Why are you helping us?" I ask as we climb the stairs. "You were so sure we were traitors."
"Because I watched Lady Seraphine's face when we arrested you." Kieran's voice is grim. "She looked... satisfied. Too satisfied. Like everything was going exactly as planned. And I realized—a real advisor worried about threats to the king would look concerned, not pleased."
We reach the main level of the palace. It's still deep night. Most people are asleep.
"The east wing is on the other side of the palace," Kieran says. "We'll have to pass through the main hall. Stay quiet. Stay close."
We move like ghosts through the dark corridors. Every sound makes me jump. Every shadow could be a guard.
Finally, we reach the east wing. It's older, less maintained. This is where they used to house the court physicians before they moved to the new medical wing.
"Which room?" Kieran asks.
My father points to a door at the end of the hall. "That one. But it'll be locked."
"I have the master keys." Kieran tries three different keys before the lock clicks.
The door swings open.
Inside, the room is exactly as my mother left it five years ago. Dusty books on shelves. Dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. A desk covered in old papers.
I rush to the desk, dropping to my knees to check the underside of the drawer. My fingers find carved letters in the wood.
Coordinates. Numbers and letters that form a location code.
"The palace library," my father says, reading over my shoulder. "Section 7, Row M, Position 14. Behind the books."
"That's where she hid the journals?" I ask.
"Your mother was clever. She hid them in plain sight where no one would think to look."
We race through the palace toward the library. Time is running out. Dawn is approaching.
The library is massive, three floors of books and scrolls. We find Section 7, Row M.
I count to Position 14 and start pulling books off the shelf.
Behind them, carved into the stone wall, is a small hidden compartment.
Inside are three leather journals, their pages filled with my mother's handwriting.
I grab them with shaking hands and flip through. Medical notes. Observations. Test results. And one page that makes my blood run cold:
"The king's curse is not natural. I have confirmed through blood samples that he is being poisoned with corrupted magic. The source: his wine, specifically the bottles marked with his personal seal. Someone with access to the royal cellars is responsible. I tried to warn His Majesty but was denied an audience. Lady Seraphine insists he is too ill for visitors. I fear she is the one—"
The entry ends there. The next page has been torn out.
"This is it," I breathe. "This is the proof we need."
"Then we need to get it to the king immediately," Kieran says. "Before Seraphine realizes we're free."
We run through the palace, no longer trying to be quiet. Speed matters more than stealth now.
We burst into the throne room just as the first light of dawn breaks through the windows.
The room is full. Nobles in their finest clothes. Guards lining the walls. And at the front, sitting on his throne, is Asheron.
Beside him, Seraphine stands with a smile on her beautiful face.
"Your Majesty!" I shout, holding up the journals. "I have proof! Proof that Lady Seraphine—"
"Seize them!" Seraphine's voice cuts through the room like a whip.
Guards surge forward, but Kieran steps in front of us, his sword drawn.
"Stand down!" he barks. "I am acting on direct evidence of treason against the crown!"
The guards hesitate, caught between the captain and the king's advisor.
Asheron rises from his throne slowly. His face is unreadable.
"Captain Kieran," he says coldly. "You dare bring escaped prisoners into my throne room?"
"I bring evidence of a conspiracy, Your Majesty." Kieran doesn't back down. "Evidence that proves the real traitor has been standing beside you for ten years."
Seraphine laughs. "This is absurd! They're desperate, making wild accusations—"
"Then explain this!" I throw the journals at Asheron's feet. "My mother's research! She documented years of systematic poisoning! She discovered you were being drugged with corrupted magic through your wine! She was killed before she could warn you!"
"Lies!" Seraphine shouts. "Those journals could be forged! Made up to save themselves!"
"I tested the wine myself," Kieran says. "From the royal cellars. Every bottle contains corrupted magic. Someone has been poisoning His Majesty for years."
The throne room erupts in chaos. Nobles shouting. Guards uncertain. Seraphine's face goes white, then red with rage.
Asheron raises his hand. Silence falls instantly.
He walks down from his throne and picks up the journals. He flips through them, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he looks up.
Not at me. Not at Seraphine.
At Kieran.
"Captain Kieran," he says quietly. "You tested my wine?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Without my permission? Without my knowledge?"
Kieran's face pales. "I... yes, Your Majesty."
"That is a breach of protocol. A violation of trust." Asheron's eyes are completely black again. "Guards. Arrest Captain Kieran for treason."
My heart stops.
"What?" Kieran stares in shock as guards grab his arms. "Your Majesty, I was trying to protect you—"
"You were conspiring with known traitors," Asheron says coldly. "You freed them from their cells. You brought them into my throne room to make accusations against my most trusted advisor." He looks at Seraphine. "Lady Seraphine, I apologize for this disturbance."
She bows, but her smile is triumphant. "No apology necessary, Your Majesty. Though I must say, their desperation is quite entertaining."
No. No, this can't be happening.
Asheron turns to me, and his expression is carved from ice.
"Elara Veylan. You have committed treason, escaped custody, and attempted to frame an innocent noble to save yourself." He pauses. "The sentence is death. Effective immediately."
"No!" my father screams. "Please! She's innocent! We're all innocent!"
But nobody's listening.
Guards drag us toward the executioner's block that's been set up in the throne room.
This is it. This is how we die.
I look at Asheron one last time, pleading with my eyes.
And for just a second—so brief I might have imagined it—his eyes flicker from black to silver-blue.
Then he turns away.
And I realize with horror that I'm about to die still not knowing if the man I saved ever believed me at all.