Chronicles of the Forsaken

The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the blood-stained ground. The bodies lay motionless, the scent of death thick in the air. Seraphina clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain composed even as her mind screamed at her to wake up from this nightmare.

She wasn't supposed to be here. None of this was supposed to happen.

Caius watched her closely, his smirk unreadable. "You seem troubled, Princess. Having second thoughts?"

Seraphina met his gaze with cold defiance. "Tell me the terms of your so-called bargain."

A flicker of amusement danced in his violet eyes. He stepped forward, closing the space between them until only a breath separated them. "You're not in a position to negotiate," he murmured, voice like silk laced with steel. "But since I'm feeling generous, I'll make it simple."

He raised a gloved hand and traced a finger along the hilt of the dagger she still held. "I'll make this little… inconvenience disappear. No one in the palace will hear a word of it."

Seraphina's grip tightened around the dagger. "And in return?"

Caius's smirk deepened. "You belong to me."

Her breath hitched.

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken threats. She knew exactly what he meant. A Valemont princess, even a despised one, held power. If she aligned herself with Caius, she would be turning her back on her family—on the empire itself.

But if she refused, she wouldn't survive long enough to regret it.

"You want control over me?" she asked, keeping her voice steady. "Why?"

Caius tilted his head as if the answer were obvious. "Because you're interesting."

Seraphina frowned. "I'm not a pawn for you to amuse yourself with."

"Not a pawn," he mused. "A queen, perhaps?" His smirk widened, but there was something dark behind his expression—something dangerous. "I think you'll find that survival often demands… flexibility."

Seraphina's stomach twisted. She knew what he was doing. He was testing her, pushing her to see how far she'd bend before she broke.

She straightened her shoulders. "Fine."

Caius raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

"I accept," she said, voice unwavering. "On one condition."

His smirk faltered for the briefest moment before intrigue replaced it. "Oh? Do tell."

Seraphina took a step closer, matching his intensity. "If I serve you, I do it my way. I'm not your pet, nor your puppet." She lifted the dagger between them, pressing the tip against his chest. "And if you ever think of betraying me, I won't hesitate to return the favour."

For the first time, Caius let out a low, genuine laugh. "Oh, Princess," he murmured, looking utterly delighted. "Now you're starting to entertain me."

Seraphina ignored the shiver that ran down her spine.

Caius turned to the armoured soldier still waiting in the shadows. "Clean this up." His voice was cold now, devoid of the teasing warmth he had used with her. "No traces. No witnesses."

The soldier nodded and disappeared into the darkness, already barking orders to his men.

Seraphina forced herself to breathe. The weight of her decision settled over her like a storm cloud. She had just made a deal with the most dangerous man in the kingdom. And for what? Survival?

Or something more?

She didn't have time to dwell on it.

Caius stepped beside her, his presence unnervingly close. "Come," he said as if they had just concluded a pleasant conversation. "We have much to discuss."

Seraphina hesitated but followed. Whatever she had just involved herself in, there was no turning back. As they disappeared into the darkness of the fortress, the blood on the ground slowly vanished beneath the hands of shadows. And the first whispers of treason began to stir.

Seraphina followed Caius through the labyrinthine corridors of his fortress, the flickering torchlight casting shadows that danced along the stone walls. The deeper they ventured, the colder it became, as if the very air carried the weight of unspoken secrets.

Her mind raced. She had just bound herself to the most infamous man in the empire—Caius Raventhorn, the exiled prince, the warlord of the north. In the novel, he had been an enigma, a character wrapped in layers of deceit and cunning. But here, standing beside him, he was terrifyingly real.

She needed to stay sharp. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't just be rewritten—she would be erased.

Caius finally led her to a grand chamber at the heart of the fortress. It was nothing like the lavish halls of the royal palace. Dark wooden beams lined the high ceiling, and massive bookshelves filled with old tomes and scrolls surrounded them. A large map of the empire was pinned to the far wall, dotted with markers.

This wasn't just a warlord's keep—it was the command centre of a man preparing for war.

Caius leaned against the heavy oak desk in the centre of the room, watching her with those unreadable violet eyes. "You're quiet," he remarked, amusement lacing his tone. "Regretting your decision already?"

Seraphina met his gaze head-on. "Just wondering how long it'll take before you try to kill me."

His laughter was soft, but there was no warmth in it. "Now why would I waste such a fascinating piece in my game?"

Game. The word sent a chill down her spine.

Caius gestured to a seat across from him. "Sit."

She hesitated for only a moment before taking her place. Every move she made had to be calculated now. She wasn't dealing with court politicians or noblewomen anymore—she was dealing with a man who played chess with human lives.

He leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the desk. "You've just tied your fate to mine, Princess. That means we need to understand each other."

Seraphina crossed her arms. "I don't see why. I gave you my loyalty. Isn't that enough?"

Caius smirked. "Loyalty? From a Valemont?" He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Forgive me if I don't trust so easily."

Her stomach twisted. He doesn't trust me, just like I don't trust him.

"Then what do you want?" she asked, her voice firm.

Caius studied her for a long moment before rising from his seat. He turned to the large map on the wall, tracing a gloved finger over the inked outlines of the empire. "War is coming, Seraphina. Your family has ensured that. The question is—" He looked over his shoulder, eyes gleaming. "Which side will you stand on when the time comes?"

Seraphina's breath caught.

This wasn't just about survival anymore. This was about power, about shifting the very course of the empire.

And she had just placed herself in the hands of a man who could destroy it all. A sharp knock echoed through the chamber, breaking the tension.

One of Caius's soldiers entered, his expression grim. "My Lord, we've received news from the capital."

Caius gestured for him to continue.

The soldier hesitated before speaking. "The Emperor has issued a decree… Princess Seraphina Valemont is to be captured on sight and returned to the palace."

Seraphina felt the blood drain from her face.

Caius turned to her with a slow, wicked smile. "Well," he murmured, eyes gleaming with amusement, "it seems your family didn't waste any time."

Seraphina's heartbeat thundered in her chest.

Her father had already cast her aside. She was truly alone now.

Caius took a step closer, his voice dangerously low. "Now tell me, Princess… are you ready to start playing this game properly?"

A cold shiver ran down her spine. She had just walked into a war she didn't understand.

And there was no way out.

Seraphina's body went rigid at the soldier's words. The Emperor had issued a decree for her capture. Her own father had declared her a fugitive. It wasn't just exile—it was an open declaration that she was no longer wanted, no longer a Valemont.

Her hands curled into fists against her lap, her nails digging into her palms as the weight of betrayal settled over her. A part of her had expected it. She had always been the family's greatest disgrace, the stain upon the pristine Valemont name. But to be discarded so quickly, as if she were nothing more than a nuisance to be removed, sent a bitter taste to her mouth.

Caius, on the other hand, seemed utterly unfazed. He strode toward the soldier, plucking the scroll from his hand and unfurling it with slow, deliberate movements. His violet eyes scanned the words, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he found the whole thing amusing.

"They really didn't waste any time, did they?" he mused, his voice laced with dark amusement. "A royal decree, no less. You must have really pissed them off."

Seraphina forced herself to remain still, to keep her face neutral despite the storm raging inside her. "I suppose I should be honoured," she said coolly, masking the pain with defiance. "Not every princess gets a bounty on her head."

Caius chuckled, rolling the parchment back up before tossing it onto his desk. "Oh, it's more than just a bounty, Princess. They want you alive. That means they have plans for you." He leaned against the edge of the desk, regarding her with interest. "The question is—what are you going to do about it?"

Seraphina exhaled slowly, her mind working through the implications. If she was caught and dragged back to the palace, she would be at her father's mercy. And the Emperor did not believe in mercy. He would strip her of whatever little dignity she had left, use her as a political pawn, or worse—dispose of her quietly, ensuring she never threatened his reign again.

She couldn't let that happen.

Her gaze lifted to meet Caius's. "I assume you already have an answer to that," she said, tilting her chin up slightly. "Since you find this situation so entertaining."

He smirked. "As a matter of fact, I do." He straightened, moving toward a cabinet at the far end of the room. With a flick of his wrist, he unlocked it, revealing an array of weapons inside—daggers, swords, even small vials of what she could only assume were poisons. He selected a sleek, obsidian-handled dagger and tossed it to her.

She caught it instinctively, her fingers curling around the hilt.

"If your family has declared you an enemy," he said, closing the cabinet with a soft click, "then it's time you start acting like one."

Seraphina stared at the dagger in her hands, its weight solid, real. This was it. This was the moment where she had to decide—would she fight back? Would she embrace the villainess role they had already painted her as?

She looked back up at Caius, her grip tightening around the weapon. If they wanted a monster, she would give them one.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face as if he could see the very moment she made her choice. "Good," he murmured. "Now let's begin."