A Vow of Vengeance and Silk

The forest swallowed them whole. Branches clawed at Seraphine's arms as she ran, the undergrowth tangling around her ankles like grasping fingers. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, the distant baying of hounds sending a primal shiver down her spine. Her mother moved ahead with unnatural grace, her tattered skirts whispering through the foliage as if the forest itself parted for her. Kaelan dragged Tristan behind them, the prince's wrists bound with a strip of leather torn from a guard's uniform. Every stumble, every muffled curse from Tristan's gagged mouth was met with a sharp jerk forward, Kaelan's grip unrelenting. Pip stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His face was pale beneath the blood and grime, his usual cocky bravado stripped away by exhaustion. "Where are we…?" "Quiet." Lady Vaelis pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. Then, with a swiftness that belied her ragged appearance, she knelt and pried up a moss-covered stone. The rock came away with a soft scrape, revealing a yawning black hole beneath, just wide enough for a man to crawl through. Rook whistled low. "Well, that's not ominous at all." The scent of damp earth rose from the darkness, mingled with something older, something metallic, iron, perhaps, or the faint tang of blood. "Down," Lady Vaelis ordered.

Tristan dug in his heels, his eyes wild above the gag. "Mmph….!? Kaelan silenced him with a fist to the gut. "With pleasure." One by one, they disappeared into the earth. Pip went first, his coin flashing in the gloom as he flipped it nervously between his fingers. Rook followed, her dagger already drawn. Kaelan shoved Tristan forward, the prince's protests muffled as he was forced into the tunnel. Seraphine went last. The tunnel was narrower than it looked, the walls pressing in like a stone embrace. Her breath came too loud in the confined space, her fingers scraping against rough hewn rock as she crawled forward. The darkness was absolute, broken only by the occasional flicker of Pip's coin ahead. The air grew colder the deeper they went, the scent of earth giving way to something sharper, oil, candle wax, the faintest hint of smoke. Then, light. She emerged into a cavern that stole the breath from her lungs. Candles flickered in sconces carved from the living rock, their glow dancing across walls lined with weapons, swords, daggers, bows strung and ready. Maps were pinned to the stone, their edges frayed, marked with ink and blood. Shelves groaned under the weight of glittering poisons, each vial labeled in a precise, elegant hand. A war table dominated the center of the space, its surface littered with miniature castles and carved soldiers. And standing at its head,

A woman in armor turned. "Ah," said the Queen of the Thorn Court, her voice like rusted steel. "The poison bride arrives at last." Kaelan went rigid beside her. "Mother."

The queen's smile was a blade's edge. "Hello, traitor." Seraphine's mother stepped forward, her curtsy as elegant as if she still wore silks instead of rags. "Your Majesty." The queen's gaze raked over Tristan, who had gone unnaturally still. Recognition flickered in his eyes, followed by dawning horror. "Aunt Lysara?" A heartbeat of silence. Then, the queen backhanded him hard enough to send him sprawling. "That's Your Majesty to you, bastard." Rook choked on a laugh. Seraphine's pulse hammered in her throat. The pieces clicked together with terrible clarity, the rebellion, the blood oath, Kaelan's exile. This wasn't just revenge. This was war.

And she'd just walked into its beating heart.

The queen turned those predator's eyes on her. "Tell me, Lady Vaelis, how good are you at playing the long game?" Somewhere in the tunnels, the hounds howled. Seraphine met her gaze without shaking. "I poisoned my own wedding gown." For the first time, the queen looked almost pleased. "Welcome to the Thorn Court, daughter." Behind them, Tristan laughed.

It was the sound of a man who knew a secret.

And Seraphine realized with dawning horror that they'd all missed something important. Because princes never traveled alone. And betrayals never came singly. The candles guttered. A shadow moved where no shadow should be. Then the screaming began.