The capital's palace shimmered like a dream carved from marble and firelight. Chandeliers floated, unanchored, casting golden pools over velvet carpets. Nobles glided across the grand ballroom like elegant ghosts, their laughter thin and edged.
Zareena walked among them, steel-threaded silk draped over her shoulders. Her expression was unreadable—a glacier dressed in royal colors. She hadn't come to dazzle. She'd come to be seen.
And seen she was.
Whispers trailed her like a second gown.
"That's the girl from the border—Fort Vireloch's Lady..."
"Did you hear she faced the cold and won?"
"They say she burned a demon alive."
She paid them no mind.
Not until he stepped into the room.
Rashid Alimov.
He wasn't announced. He didn't need to be. The crowd simply parted like instinct recognized a storm. He moved with the ease of someone used to danger—and the silence that followed him was not empty. It was wary.
Tall. Dressed in dark crimson lined with black and silver. A family crest shaped like a broken sun on his chest.
His eyes found her instantly.
Not in surprise. Not in curiosity.
In recognition.
Zareena's breath didn't hitch, but her spine shifted. She'd never met him—not truly—but she knew. Knew the way some trees knew storms before they broke.
He walked toward her slowly.
She didn't move.
When he reached her, his voice was low, warm, and far too steady.
"So, the flame of Vireloch does cast a shadow in the capital."
She arched a brow. "And the prince of blooded secrets leaves his coffin."
He smiled—not charming. Not cold. Intrigued.
"Did you like my letter?" he asked softly, just for her.
She stilled.
"You," she said. "The crimson seal."
"Didn't expect you to survive. But then, I tend to underestimate people I've never seen bleed."
She met his gaze evenly. "And I tend to ignore monsters with nice handwriting."
They stared at each other. Around them, the court spun and shimmered, unaware that something had just shifted.
He extended a gloved hand.
"Would you dance, Lady Serinova?"
Zareena hesitated for the first time that evening.
Not out of fear.
But because, for the first time in a long while, she wasn't entirely sure what would happen next.
She took his hand.
And the court held its breath