Serena glanced at Charlotte, catching the flicker of something unreadable in her expression, an almost hesitant parting of her lips, as though she wanted to speak. But before she could say anything, Riven turned to glance over his shoulder. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, lingered on them for a moment longer than necessary. There was no polite mask on his face now, only scrutiny. He looked to be carefully pondering over something.
Serena kept her expression even, her lips set in a straight line. She walked with her back straight, her steps measured. By every account, she had performed well. The Dawnbreak wolves had been stunned into silence when the announcement was made. That alone said enough.
But still... something coiled in her stomach like a serpent unsettled
Riven slowed, then gestured to a narrow stone archway just ahead, a path that led toward one of the lesser courtyards, shaded by old cedars and tucked away from the castle’s more public paths.
Charlotte arched a brow but said nothing, only falling back a pace or two as Serena moved to follow him. Once they were beneath the trees, Riven came to a stop and turned to face her. For a moment, he said nothing.
He simply looked at her, really looked. Not with the distant politeness of a diplomat or the polite warmth he had worn before but with something close to betrayal. Serena was not particularly moved by him as she was with Elen.
Then he laughed, sharp and brief, and ran a hand down his face.
"Tell me why," he said finally. His voice wasn’t raised, but it held weight. "Why play such a game?"
Serena folded her hands before her and lifted her chin slightly. "Because it had to be played."
"Did it?" Riven pressed, taking a slow step forward. "You sat across from me for days. Not a single word you said. You let me assume."
"You chose to assume," Charlotte interjected smoothly from behind, folding her arms. "Assumption is the lowest form of knowledge."
He ignored her. His eyes remained fixed on Serena. "You let me speak to you as if we were equals in uncertainty."
"We were," Serena said calmly. "We still are. I did not mislead you for pleasure, Riven. I did what duty demanded."
His jaw tightened. The emotions flickering across his face, frustration, disbelief, even hurt were new to her. She had seen him composed, guarded, wary. Never this.
"You carry that role like it was always yours," he muttered. "Crimsonclaw, why would they even involve themselves?"
"Because the East has long been silent," Serena said carefully. "And silence breeds irrelevance. This was never just about Ironshade or Dawnbreak. It’s about all of us."
Charlotte leaned against a nearby pillar, brushing a leaf off her sleeve. "How noble."
Riven turned to her then, as if truly seeing her for the first time. "You’re from Crimsonclaw too, are you not?"
She offered him a dazzling smile. "I never said I was not."
He laughed again, bitter this time. "How long have you both been here?"
Serena paused. "Long enough," she said, her voice giving nothing more.
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Dawnbreak has had priority in these talks from the beginning. That won’t change."
Serena inclined her head, the gesture smooth and graceful. "Of course."
But she could see it plainly now, that was a bluff. A desperate one. Dawnbreak was shaken. And though he wouldn’t show it fully, Riven had not expected this.
He exhaled once and stepped back. His voice lowered. "I liked you better before you spoke in riddles."
"And I liked you better when you weren’t trying to guess what cards I held," Serena replied.
That silenced him. For a beat. Then, with a small nod, Riven turned and walked away, his footsteps stiff on the stone path.
Charlotte whistled softly once he was out of earshot. "Oh, he’s not taking that well."
Serena turned toward her slowly, her face unreadable.
"I expected more grace," she said.
"I did not," Charlotte muttered, brushing past her. "He’s a man. They can drink cold water but cannot stomach cold facts."
Serena said nothing, her thoughts heavy. The way Riven had looked at her, like she had pulled a mask from her face and he had realized it had been painted on his friend would linger.
Charlotte paused and looked over her shoulder. "Still, you did well. Not perfect, you flinched once or twice but no one noticed."
"Thank you," Serena said dryly.
"I’m serious," Charlotte replied, stepping beside her. "You did well."
She reached for Serena’s hand, not to hold it, but to tug her lightly down another corridor. "Come. There’s a room we can sit in that has no windows and no gossiping servants."
Serena followed, grateful for the shadowed hallway and Charlotte’s unusual quiet.
She had passed the first test but it would not be the last.
Charlotte led her down a long, winding corridor Serena didn’t recognize. The walls curved like the path of a stream, adorned with fading tapestries and high, narrow windows that let in slivers of golden afternoon light. Serena’s steps slowed as she glanced around, unease creeping in. "How do you know this way?" she asked.
Charlotte looked back over her shoulder, her smile lazy. "I make it my duty to know all the good hiding spots. You never know when you’ll need to disappear." Follow current novels on novel~fire~net
It wasn’t an answer, not really. But Serena didn’t press. Eventually, they stopped before a modest wooden door tucked into an alcove. Charlotte pushed it open without hesitation.
Inside, the room was warm and comfortably worn. Woven rugs covered the floor, the hearth was cold but clean, and two low chairs sat facing each other, as if it had been waiting for them. It felt oddly untouched by the rest of the castle’s grandeur.
Charlotte sank into one chair and gestured for Serena to take the other.
Then, she tilted her head and asked, softly, almost idly, but not without intent: "Who is Darius to you?"