Sera's POV
The guards moved her out of the corridor before she could process what had happened.
One took her right arm. One took her left. They weren't rough about it, but they weren't gentle either. They were efficient. Professional. The kind of guards who escorted people away from rooms without asking questions.
Behind her, Castor Drein's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
"This isn't over, Emperor. That girl is part of a contract. You have no legal right to—"
"I have every right," Kael said, and his voice was quiet enough that the entire corridor went silent to hear it. "I'm the Emperor. Now get out of my palace."
Sera heard the sound of Castor's guards being physically moved. Heard her father protesting weakly somewhere in the distance. Heard Kael's words settle over everything like a law that had just been written into existence. He had claimed her. Publicly. Irrevocably.
The guards pulled her down another corridor, then another. She was moving through the palace blind now, all her careful mental maps useless. The servants who passed them dropped their eyes and pressed themselves against the walls. No one looked at her. No one acknowledged what was happening.
They took her to a private chamber that was clearly meant for the Emperor's use. Maps lined the walls. Books sat in stacks on tables. A fire burned in a large stone fireplace. The room smelled like leather and old paper and something else. Something that made her think of Kael standing close to her in the darkness.
Kael was already there.
He closed the door behind her and the guards, then gestured for them to leave. They obeyed without hesitation. Once they were gone, she and Kael stood across from each other in the quiet, and Sera understood that her life had just fundamentally changed.
"Your name," he said. Not a question. A demand.
"Sera Aldwyn."
"Who sold you?"
"My father. Viscount Aldwyn."
Kael moved to a desk and picked up a document. The contract. She recognized it from the gala, from the moment Castor had been waiting to sign it. Kael looked at it for only a moment before tearing it completely in half. Then quarters. Then into pieces small enough that they scattered across the floor like snow.
The violence of the gesture should have frightened her. Instead, she found herself thinking about what it meant. He had destroyed the thing that bound her to Castor. He had erased the transaction with his bare hands.
"That debt," he said, "is now settled. Your father receives a palace summons by morning informing him that his financial obligations have been cleared by Imperial decree. He also receives a letter informing him that his daughter is under my protection. He will not attempt to reclaim her. He will not contact her. He will not come to the palace again."
Sera watched the pieces of the contract fall. Part of her wanted to feel relief. Another part wanted to scream.
"What happens to me?" she asked.
Kael looked at her for a long moment. He was studying her face like he was looking for something. Something real underneath the fear and confusion.
"That depends on what you want," he said.
"I want to be free."
"Everyone wants freedom," he said. "That's not what I asked. I asked what you want. There's a difference."
Sera didn't know how to answer that. Freedom had seemed like the only thing that mattered an hour ago. Now she wasn't sure.
"I want to understand why you did this," she said finally.
Kael smiled again. That same transformative smile. The one that changed his entire face and made her feel like she was the only person in the empire who mattered. "Good answer."
He gestured to a guard who appeared from a side entrance. "Take her to the western quarters. Rooms 7, 8, and 9. Stock them with everything she needs. She's to have access to the gardens and the library corridors. No restrictions."
"Your Majesty," the guard said carefully, "those rooms are typically reserved for—"
"I'm aware of their typical use," Kael interrupted. "This is not typical."
The guard bowed and gestured for Sera to follow.
But before she moved, Kael stepped closer to her. His hand came up and cupped her face for just a moment. His touch was warm. Careful. His thumb traced her cheekbone, and she realized she had stopped breathing.
"You're going to be safe," he said quietly, and the words sounded like a promise. "I know you don't believe that yet. But you will."
Then he stepped back, and the moment shattered.
Sera followed the guard through corridors she hadn't seen before, climbing stone stairs and passing through archways. The palace was a maze designed to confuse anyone trying to navigate it. Sera counted turns anyway, measured distances, tried to memorize the layout. But her mind kept returning to the feeling of his hand on her face. To the warmth of his touch.
They arrived at a set of double doors made of dark wood. The guard unlocked them and stepped aside.
The rooms beyond were stunning. Not in the ostentatious way of the gala, but in the way that suggested whoever had designed them understood what mattered. The first room had a window overlooking the gardens. The second had a library attached—walls of books, a reading table, comfortable chairs. The third was a sleeping chamber with a large bed and fresh linens.
Clothes appeared in the wardrobes. Food was brought on trays. Within an hour, the rooms were staffed with servants who moved silently and asked no questions.
Sera sat on the bed in the darkness and tried to understand what had happened.
She had been sold. Then claimed. Then moved to rooms that felt designed specifically for her comfort. The Emperor had torn up a contract and declared her debt settled. He had given her access to the library. He had told his guards she was to have no restrictions.
But it was his touch that kept replaying in her mind. The way he had looked at her like she mattered. Like she wasn't a problem to be solved or a pawn to be moved.
She got up and walked back to the library. The books were organized in a way that suggested they had been carefully curated. Not a servant's random arrangement. These were books someone had chosen. Someone had read.
She pulled one down at random. Inside the cover, in handwriting that was precise and controlled, was a single initial. K.
Her heart stopped.
These rooms. This library. These weren't guest quarters.
These were his rooms. The Emperor's private chambers.
She moved to the window and looked out at the palace gardens far below, the city beyond, the vast empire stretching into darkness. Her mind was racing. Why would he put her here? Why would he give her his own space?
Why had he touched her like that?
A knock at the door interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
A woman in fine clothes stood in the doorway, older, with gray in her hair and the bearing of someone who had worked in the palace for decades.
"I'm Marta," she said. "I'm to be your attendant. The Emperor requested that I inform you of one thing."
Sera waited.
"He's moved his chambers to the eastern wing temporarily," Marta said. "He wanted you to know that you're not displacing him. But more importantly, he wanted you to know that every book in this library, every map, every document—you have permission to read anything you wish. There are no locked drawers. No restricted shelves. He said you should read whatever interests you."
Sera's throat went dry.
"Why would he tell me that?" she asked.
Marta's expression didn't change. But something flickered in her eyes. Recognition, maybe. Or understanding of something beyond what she was allowed to say.
"I couldn't say," the woman replied carefully. "But he also said you should know that the Imperial Archives are connected to this library through a private passage. The door is behind the third bookshelf on the eastern wall. He thought you might want to know where it is."
The woman left before Sera could respond.
Sera stood in the darkness of the library, understanding suddenly that nothing about this situation was what it appeared. The Emperor hadn't simply claimed her to protect her from Castor. He hadn't given her these rooms out of kindness.
He had given her access to his private library. To the archives. To information that most people in the empire would kill for.
He had given her access to secrets.
And the only logical reason a tyrant would do that was if he wanted her to find something. Or if he wanted to test her. Or if there was something in those secrets that he needed her to see.
Or—and this thought made her pulse quicken—if he trusted her.
Sera walked to the third bookshelf and pushed. The shelf moved silently, revealing a narrow passage beyond.
In the darkness of that passage, she heard the faint sound of footsteps. Someone was walking in the archives. Someone was waiting to see if she would be brave enough to follow.
She thought of his hand on her face. The way he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.
She took a breath.
And then she stepped into the darkness after him.