Crimson Rose Queen

(Part 1: The Ripped Gown Scandal)

Sebastian's grip on my wrist was iron. "Release Damien. Now."

I clung tighter to the Astorian prince's arm, batting my lashes. "Make me."

A snarl. Then—rip.

Silk shredded like cobwebs. Cold air kissed my exposed skin as the gown slithered to my waist, leaving only the scarlet underrobe clinging to my curves.

Four eyes locked onto me—Sebastian's burning crimson, Damien's startled emerald. The prince whirled away, his ears pink. Sebastian? His fury crystallized into something darker.

"You dressed in this?" He gestured at the ruins of my 'strategic' gown.

I shrugged, adjusting the fabric with deliberate slowness. "Blame your barbarian hands, Your Majesty."

(The Walk of Shame)

Sebastian dragged me through the corridors, his cloak a smothering weight around my shoulders. Servants scattered like startled birds.

"Let go! You're—"

"—ensuring the Empress doesn't parade her charms past the entire court?"* His whisper was a blade at my throat. "You wanted this. To humiliate me. To provoke Damien."

I laughed. "Did it work?"

His grip tightened. "Tomorrow. You leave for your family's estate. Stay there until I forget this farce."

Perfect.

(Part 2: Midnight Whispers)

Back in Silvermoon Palace, a flute's lament coiled through the night. The same haunting melody from before.

I pressed against the window—

There. A shadow by the magnolia tree. Tall. Holding a silver flute.

Our eyes met across the darkness.

Then—gone. Like smoke.

Only the silver locket at my throat remained warm.