Selene made her way to the Queen's chambers in a rush, ignoring the polite greetings of the maids as she passed through the grand hallways.
She slammed the heavy chamber door behind her, the echo reverberating through the stone corridors.
Leaning against the door, her forehead pressed to the cool wood, Selene took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself.
"Rough night?"
The voice was quiet but sharp. Lila.
Selene startled, her pulse quickening. She had almost forgotten about her.
"No. Last night was fine," Selene lied smoothly. She couldn't let Lila know the truth. If Lila found out her power had failed to work on Ronan, the woman would savor the news. Selene wouldn't give her that satisfaction.
Lila's voice was cool. "By 'fine,' do you mean you consummated the marriage?"
Selene let out a harsh sigh, masking her turmoil with practiced indifference.
"Aren't you supposed to be my maid? Instead of asking stupid questions, prepare a bath for me and get me breakfast, make yourself useful."
Lila's jaw clenched visibly, but she forced a smile. "Your bath has already been prepared, my lady. And it's customary for you to dine with the King."
Selene's heart rate quickened at the thought of eating with Ronan.
"Now, answer my question. Did you consummate the marriage?" Lila asked, voice colder than ice, eyes boring into Selene's with unnerving intensity.
Selene stepped closer, her tone a low warning. "I do not have to report anything to you."
Lila smiled wickedly. "I'm sure the faction would disagree. I'll write to them today, informing them of your failure."
Selene's fists clenched at her sides. "You would do no such thing, Lila."
"Oh, but I will, my Queen."
Selene felt her jaw tighten, her teeth grinding. She had trained for this. She had spent years honing her skills, sharpening her mind and body for this.
And now, here was Lila, a mere maid. threatening to shatter everything she'd worked for, to expose her weakness.
"And don't even think of using your powers on me," Lila added casually, her voice ice-cold, "because I can counterattack them."
Selene was on the verge of an internal breakdown.
For a moment, the room felt too small, the air too thick. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, her nails digging into her palms.
Then she smiled.
Slow. Dangerous.
"I don't need my powers to break your face," she murmured, her voice silky and lethal. She took a step forward, forcing Lila to tilt her head up to meet her gaze. "I can do that with my fists."
The smug look on Lila's face disappeared.
"Or would you prefer I carve you into little pieces with my dagger?" Selene continued, tilting her head slightly, as if considering it. "Would that be more satisfying?"
Lila took an unintentional step back.
Selene's smile widened.
"I don't care if the faction sent you here to watch me," she went on, voice sharp enough to slice skin. "You do not dictate to me. You do not question me. You do not so much as breathe your opinion unless I ask for it. Am I clear?"
Lila's lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing.
Selene's smile vanished in an instant. "I said, am I clear?"
Lila swallowed. "Yes."
Selene arched a brow.
"Yes, what?"
Lila hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, through clenched teeth—
"Yes, my Queen."
Selene exhaled slowly, as if savoring the words. Then she turned away, dismissing Lila like she was nothing more than a speck of dust.
"The next time you do this," she added, voice cool and unbothered, "I'll have you hanged." She turned her head slightly, just enough for Lila to see the merciless gleam in her emerald eyes. "I am still Queen, in case you've forgotten."
Lila stiffened.
Then, without another word, she spun on her heel and left.
Selene let out a slow breath, rolling her shoulders as the tension melted.
Lila thought she could control her.
How amusing.
She'll wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating her again.
******
Selene sat before the vanity as a maid tightened the last laces of her dress. The fabric was softer than anything she'd ever worn before—deep emerald, a color that brought out the unnatural brightness of her eyes. The neckline plunged scandalously low, revealing more of her chest than she was comfortable with. But that was the point.
She wanted Ronan distracted. his mind consumed by her, his every thought tangled in the web she wove. She needed him to be madly in love with her. Obsessed. Devoted. And all without her having to perform wifely duties.
Her reflection in the mirror was an illusion—a woman dressed in silks, adorned in gold, playing the part of a queen. But inside, she was the same as before. The same girl who had watched her father die by his hands.
She hated him.
She hated every inch of him.
Yet her own traitorous gaze had lingered on him that morning, tracing the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the light caught in his golden eyes. He was disgustingly, infuriatingly attractive.
It made her sick.
A polite knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"My Queen," a voice called.
Selene turned as the maid opened the door, revealing a young guard standing in the hall. He looked barely older than she was—soft around the edges but composed, his uniform pressed to perfection. Unlike the others, his expression wasn't cold or calculating.
He bowed. "The King is expecting you."
Selene nodded, rising from her seat. "Lead the way."
As she followed him through the corridors, she caught maids and courtiers sneaking glances at her, whispering behind their hands. Of course. They were waiting for signs. Waiting for proof that she had given herself to their beloved king.
They would be disappointed.
The guard led her outside, down a stone path lined with roses and thick ivy, until they reached a secluded garden. Sunlight streamed through the branches of towering willows, casting shadows over the white stone terrace where a table had been set for two. Silver platters gleamed under the light, covered with lids to keep their contents warm.
And there he was.
Ronan sat at the head of the table, lounging like he had not a care in the world, a goblet of wine in hand. He was wearing black today—loose-fitting at the top, exposing just enough of his chest to make her want to stab him. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he hadn't bothered to fix it after waking.
His eyes landed on her, and for a split second, he faltered.
Good.
Selene lowered herself onto the seat across from him, her movements slow and deliberate. The dress did its job well—Ronan's gaze flickered to the deep dip of her neckline before he met her eyes again, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You look breathtaking," he said, setting his goblet down.
Selene picked up her fork, giving him a small, uninterested smile. "I know."
He let out a low chuckle, leaning forward slightly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me, wife."
She met his gaze without flinching. "And if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were easy to manipulate, husband."
His smirk widened. "Careful, Selene. That sharp tongue of yours might get you into trouble."
She shrugged, picking at her food. "I'll take my chances."
The meal was tense but quiet, filled with stolen glances and lingering silences. Ronan watched her as he ate, his expression unreadable, while Selene focused on not driving her knife through his hand.
And yet, despite herself, her eyes kept catching on the way his fingers curled around his goblet, the way his throat moved as he drank, the way the sunlight caught in his golden hair.
She swallowed hard.
And she hated her own stupid instincts for acknowledging his beauty.
Just as she was about to look away, the moment shattered.
A man stormed into the garden, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel. It was Travis.
Selene instantly straightened.
"Terribly sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty," Travis said, slightly out of breath. "But there's something you need to see."
Ronan sighed, pushing back his chair. "What now?"
Travis hesitated, his eyes flickering toward Selene.
Ronan noticed. His expression darkened. "Whatever it is, say it."
Travis exhaled sharply. "It's the villages, my King. There's been an attack."
Selene's grip tightened on her fork.
Ronan's entire demeanor shifted—his casual laziness evaporating, replaced by something sharp and dangerous. "Who?"
"We don't know yet," Travis admitted. "But it was brutal. Homes were burned. People slaughtered. We have survivors, but… you'll want to see for yourself."
Selene watched Ronan carefully, waiting for his reaction.
Would he care? Would he pretend to care?
But to her surprise, something flashed in his eyes—something real. Not anger. Not irritation.
Sadness.
It lasted only a second before his expression turned to stone.
He rose from his seat, adjusting his sword belt. "Prepare my horse. I leave immediately."
Travis nodded and hurried off.
Ronan turned to Selene, his golden eyes locking onto hers as he reached for her hand. His grip was warm, steady—far too intimate for her liking.
"I'm sorry our breakfast was cut short, my Queen," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "But I'll make it up to you."
Before she could pull away, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against her skin.
Selene's smile was effortless. "Be careful," she murmured, her voice soft—almost affectionate.
She needed him alive.
To kill him herself.