Chapter 5

Back in her room, Seraphina bound her wounds and went straight back to packing.

This room had been hers on previous stays at the Sanctum — she'd put little touches of herself everywhere. Now she had Ivy take them all down, one by one.

By the time dark fell, they finally rested.

Ivy was crying again, her anger building with every word:

"I was blind before — I used to think the priest treated you well. If you had actually married him, you would have been miserable every single day..."

Seraphina finally spoke. "I won't be marrying him."

The door crashed open again.

Caden stood in the doorway, his expression like a sky about to break. "What did you just say?"

Ivy startled, stepping in front of Seraphina. Caden ignored her, eyes fixed on Seraphina alone.

"What did you just say? Are you refusing to allow Roselyn into the household?"

"I promised you — outside of her, no one else would enter. You and Roselyn grew up in the same world. Why must you be so intolerant of her?"

Seraphina said nothing. Caden drew a sharp breath. "What do you want?"

"Nothing. If you have something to say, say it." She finally looked up. "I'm leaving at first light."

Caden glanced at the wounds on her knees. Then at her bloodless face. Something uncomfortable churned through him — a restless, sourceless irritation.

"No one is throwing you out. Why do you have to act pitiful? Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"

Ivy had heard enough. Her voice shook with barely restrained indignation:

"priest, that's going too far. Our Princess has never once played the victim. And besides, there are plenty of people at the estate waiting on her. We'd rather not be in the way of your... arrangements."

Caden's expression tightened further.

He thought of the ninety-nine lovers at the Princess's estate. A cold sound escaped him.

"No wonder you're in such a hurry. Missing your lovers already. Then leave — right now. At least with you gone, Roselyn won't have to be afraid all the time."

Seraphina's hands stilled.

He wanted her to leave. Right now. In the dead of night. In the snow. She looked up and met those cold, empty eyes.

He wasn't joking.

"One more thing," Caden's voice dropped further. "We'll be wed in a fortnight. I expect every one of those lovers gone before then."

Seraphina closed her eyes.

She thought of the letters she'd sent him over the years — every one of them her truest heart. She had told him, in those letters, that she had never touched those men. She kept them only to turn away matchmakers. She was waiting for him, and only him.

He had never believed a single word. And now he was using it to wound her again.

"Since that's why you came, I'll leave."

Ivy's voice cracked. "Your Highness — it's the middle of the night. Your wounds—"

"Let's go." Seraphina braced herself upright, and walked out the door. Ivy followed, crying.

Caden stayed where he was and watched her silhouette vanish into the wind and dark.

The heaviness in his chest grew heavier. Something pressed down on him, made it hard to breathe.

The priest — who was always so composed, so untouched, who prided himself on feeling neither pleasure nor sorrow — found that his temper always seemed to ignite so easily around Seraphina.

He drew a slow breath, and noticed for the first time what she'd done to the room.

The landscape painting she'd hung on the wall — gone. The small pot of winter plum she'd been tending on the windowsill — gone.

She had said once, with a laugh, that a room needed these things to feel like a home.

And now it was bare. Stripped clean. Like she had never been here at all.

Caden's fist closed slowly at his side. Something pierced him, sudden and deep.

He thought, perhaps, that he was coming down with something. He ought to have a healer look at him.