It started the way most things at court did with paperwork.
Stacks of documents a few signatures and the quiet sense that something serious had started. Outside the Rose Court looked clean and composed but the tension inside the palace was real. The sky looked ready to break.
Seraphina moved through the palace with purpose. Every word she said and every look she gave was intentional. She wasn't here to perform anymore. She was here to act.
Each document she signed pushed her further from House Vessant. The divorce wasn't official yet but the process had begun. There would be no going back.
This wasn't about appearances.
This was personal.
She remembered how her father had died too suddenly right before he was supposed to take a major stand in court. The warnings she had ignored. The whispers about House Vessant she had dismissed until it was too late. Alaric hadn't just stood by during her fall. He had made it happen.
He had watched her be destroyed.
She wouldn't let it happen again.
She hated him for it. For the lies, the manipulation, the years of pretending. For making her believe she was safe when he had already drawn the blade. Her anger wasn't impulsive anymore. It was focused. Controlled. She wanted to dismantle everything he stood on. Not just expose his crimes, but leave him stripped of his influence, his reputation, his legacy. She wanted him to feel powerless—just as he had made her feel before the flames.
And she would. She was building her case carefully. Not just for justice, but for retribution.
With help from Caelan's network and her own team Seraphina started collecting proof. Hidden financial records. Questionable land deals. Letters that should have been burned. This wasn't just the end of a marriage. It was the start of exposing everything Alaric built.
By midday she met with royal accountants to finalize changes to the D'Lorien estate. Officially it looked like routine updates. But it was the start of separation legal financial and permanent.
Later in council she kept quiet. Observed. She only spoke when necessary. Her calm made her untouchable.
That evening the storm hit. Rain hammered the palace rooftops. Thunder shook the windows.
Caelan found her in the west courtyard standing under the stone arch.
She didn't move when he arrived. Her hair was wet her arms crossed. She stood like she was part of the storm.
"You shouldn't be out here alone " he said.
"I'm not " she answered.
She turned and looked at him. Rain blurred the space between them. He stepped forward. She didn't move.
He reached for her hand. When they touched the air changed. It wasn't comfort. It was recognition.
She curled her fingers around his.
Just moments earlier, she had been thinking of him, of how his presence had come to represent a kind of steady force in the chaos. She hadn't expected to see him in the courtyard, yet something about it felt right. As if part of her had been waiting. The rain on her skin hadn't distracted her from the memory of the last time she had seen that look in his eyes—sadness, quiet rage, helplessness. In her past life, he had watched her fall, and he had been unable to stop it. That pain had been real, and she hadn't forgotten it.
But this version of Caelan was standing beside her, choosing her.
And she was grateful. Because now, in this life, he was her ally.
Caelan wanted to pull her close and kiss her not out of impulse but because of the way she held herself together. Even with everything against her she stayed strong. That strength made him respect her more. It made him want her more.
He stayed quiet. He didn't need to say anything at least not out loud. But in the silence his thoughts ran fast. Did she know how he felt? Or did she think his support was just that support nothing more? She had held his hand. It meant something to him. But what did it mean to her?
Later they sat by the fire in the library. The storm continued. Documents were laid out but neither of them looked at them.
The divorce petition was on the table. They ignored it.
Caelan leaned in to read over her shoulder. She felt how close he was his warmth against her back his breath brushing her ear.
Their arms touched. Neither pulled away.
She turned slightly her cheek brushing his.
He looked at her.
"This will change everything " he said.
"It already has " she said.
She didn't move. Neither did he.
The space between them got smaller.
His hand lifted brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers rested against her cheek.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
He leaned in close enough that she felt the pull. Her lips parted. When she opened her eyes his were focused on her mouth.
They didn't cross the line. It took everything in Caelan not to kiss her right then and there fiercely without hesitation. And it took all of Seraphina's mental fortitude not to give in not to let herself fall into something she wasn't sure she could control.
But they both thought about it.
He pulled back first, only slightly. Every inch of distance was a struggle. It took all of Caelan's restraint not to lean in again, not to give in to the need pressing against his control. He wanted to taste her, to let himself fall, to stop pretending there wasn't something building between them.
And Seraphina—she felt the pull just as fiercely. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her hands curled tightly in her lap to keep from reaching for him. It was a battle against herself, against the warmth and certainty of him. Letting go meant surrendering control, and she wasn't ready for what might come after.
She exhaled slowly. Her heart was racing, and it wasn't just from what had almost happened—it was from knowing that she had wanted it, deeply.
They turned back to the papers but the moment didn't fade.
That night Seraphina didn't sleep.
Not out of fear.
Because her thoughts were full of Caelan. The feel of his hand in hers. The way he looked at her like she was something worth fighting for. The way he didn't push didn't expect just saw her exactly as she was. Strong tired stubborn determined.
She kept replaying the way his fingers brushed her cheek the closeness of his breath the look in his eyes. It had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. There had been a moment sharp magnetic where she nearly let go of all her walls. And she knew he felt it too.
It wasn't a game. It wasn't distraction. It was something real. And if she let it happen it wouldn't be something she could undo.
That scared her more than anything Alaric ever had.