Chapter 5
667words
Months passed as a new order established itself. Duke Tristan's authority solidified, while Duchess Seraphina became a formidable presence in court circles. No longer standing in her father's shadow, she cast her own.
Life settled into pastoral tranquility. Her father's duchy flourished once more, while those who had betrayed House Lunaria found themselves quietly but thoroughly ruined, one by one.
Yet Seraphina knew one final act remained in her vengeance—not to eliminate any lingering threat, but to properly bury the vengeful ghost she had become.
Alone, she journeyed in an unmarked carriage to the Black Tower beyond the capital's walls.
The tower rose like an obsidian blade stabbing the heavens—a prison reserved for the kingdom's most dangerous traitors. Inside, cold stone walls absorbed all sound, leaving only the whisper of wind carrying the taste of despair.
Beyond multiple iron doors, Seraphina found Lucien.
Chained to the wall, his former splendor devoured by filth and decay. Only his eyes retained life—igniting with manic hatred at the sight of her.
"Finally come to gloat?" he rasped, laughing like a cornered animal. "You've won, Seraphina! You venomous bitch! Are you satisfied now?"
Seraphina offered no response. She regarded him dispassionately, as one might observe an insect under glass.
Her silence maddened him more than any taunt could have. He thrashed against his chains, howling: "Why such hatred?! What did I ever do to you? You destroyed everything I had over some worthless stable boy?!"
To his last breath, he would believe everything stemmed from that watchtower incident—what he considered a mere "indiscretion."
"Hate you?" Seraphina finally spoke, her voice soft yet devastating. "Lucien, you're mistaken. I never hated you."
She paused, watching shock freeze his features, then delivered the blow that would shatter his last illusion.
"Because you were never worth hating."
All color drained from his face.
Seraphina's gaze drifted past him, as if seeing through time itself. "You think this was some contest between us? You're wrong. In this game, you were never even a player. My war was with fate—with a history that should never have existed. And you..."
Her lips curved in something resembling pity.
"You're merely the ugly footnote to a chapter I've already burned to ash."
From within her cloak, she withdrew an object and placed it on the cold stone ledge between them—a small bird carved from white birch, crude yet infused with heartbreaking tenderness.
Lucien stared at the wooden bird, bewildered.
He would never understand it was the only toy a mother had crafted for her unborn child while dying in a cold dungeon in another lifetime.
With this gesture, Seraphina entombed her most tender and painful memory. She imprisoned her past in the same cage that held her enemy.
She turned and walked away.
"Oh," she paused at the final iron door, as if suddenly remembering something trivial. Without turning, her voice casual as if discussing the weather:
"The northern winters are brutal. The Penitence Abbey sisters sent word that Isabel didn't survive to see the thaw. Pity."
Behind her—deathly silence. Then an inhuman howl erupted, raw with despair and madness.
Seraphina never looked back.
Emerging from the Black Tower, she squinted against the brilliant sunlight. Darkness and cold fell away like shed skin.
Outside, astride a massive warhorse, Tristan waited in silence. Asking no questions, he dismounted at her approach and extended his hand.
Seraphina placed her hand in his. With a single fluid motion, he lifted her onto the horse before him, enfolding her within the protective circle of his arms and cloak.
Hoofbeats echoed—unhurried, steady—bearing them away from that monument to suffering.
Nestled against Tristan's chest, lulled by his steady heartbeat, Seraphina closed her eyes. A single tear escaped, instantly claimed by the wind.
It marked neither grief nor joy.
It was a final, profound farewell to the vengeful specter she had become—the Seraphina forged in flames.
From those ashes, at last, new life could bloom.
