"My project. You know—the brooding soldier with the tragic past and the jawline that could cut glass." She sighs dramatically. "He's so deliciously serious all the time. It's like he's never had fun in his entire immortal life. Someone needs to teach him how to smile, and I've graciously volunteered for the position."
"Ivy, I don't think?—"
"Did you know," she continues, ignoring my interruption entirely, "that when I complimented his sword yesterday, he actually blushed? Well, not blushed exactly—more like this adorable little flush creeping up his neck while he tried to maintain his stoic expression. It was precious. I nearly died."
"Emmett doesn't blush."
"He does when I tell him his tactical formations are 'devastatingly competent.'" Her grin is wicked. "I'm wearing him down, Sera. Give me another week and I'll have him smiling. Maybe even laughing. It's going to be glorious."
I should smile. Should engage in this banter the way I usually do. But the words stick in my throat, and Ivy's perceptive eyes catch the shift immediately.
Her playful expression fades, wings drooping slightly. "Okay, spill. What's wrong? And don't say nothing, because you've got that look—the one where you're thinking very hard about something terrible while pretending everything is fine."
I hesitate, but the weight of everything I've learned today presses down until I can barely breathe. "I spoke to one of the older servants. About Julia."
Ivy goes very still. "Oh."
"She told me what happened. The pattern—Julia was pregnant, his shadows became unstable and violent, she weakened, and then she died." My voice drops to barely above a whisper. "It's happening again, Ivy. The same pattern. And I don't know what to do."
For once, Ivy doesn't have a witty comeback. She moves closer, settling beside me on the window seat, her usual brightness dimmed by genuine concern.
"What are you thinking?" she asks quietly.
"I'm thinking I need space. Time to clear my head without feeling him through the bond every second, without his emotions bleeding into mine." I meet her eyes. "I need to leave for a little while. Just a day or two. Somewhere quiet where I can think."
"Like... leave the palace?"
"Yes. There's an inn in the boundary territories—somewhere quiet where I can process everything. Julia's journal, what Mireth told me, the pregnancy, all of it." I stand, moving to the window. "I can't think here, Ivy. Every corner of this place reminds me of him. Every shadow feels like it might reach for me. I need distance to figure out what comes next."
Ivy is quiet for a long moment, her wings flickering with uncertainty. "He's going to panic when he realizes you're gone."
"I know. That's why I need you to cover for me." I turn to face her. "Tell him I needed some time alone. That I'm safe. That I'll be back in a day or two. Please, Ivy. I just need space to think without him tearing the realm apart looking for me."
She studies me carefully, her usually playful expression serious. "You're planning to come back? You're not... running away forever?"
"I'm coming back," I say firmly. "I just need to sort through everything in my head first. Away from the bond, away from his guilt and fear. I need to figure out if there's a way through this that doesn't end with me dead like Julia."
Ivy sighs, her hair shifting through worried shades of blue and silver. "This is a terrible idea."
"I know."
"He's going to be impossible. Emmett will probably help him tear apart the countryside looking for you."
"That's why you're going to convince them I just needed a break. That I'm overwhelmed and need space." I reach out, taking her hands. "Please, Ivy. I need this."
She squeezes my hands, her expression conflicted. "Fine. But only because I can see you're barely holding it together, and honestly, some distance might help you both think more clearly." Her wings flutter with resignation. "How long?"
"A day. Maybe two at most. Just long enough to clear my head."
"And you'll actually come back? You're not secretly planning to disappear forever while I lie to an increasingly murderous demon lord?"
"I'll come back," I promise. "I'm not abandoning him, Ivy. I'm just... I need to breathe for a moment without drowning in his emotions and my own fear."
She nods slowly. "Okay. But Sera—be careful. And if you change your mind, if things get worse or you decide you do need to run, you send a word to me immediately. Understand?"
"I understand."
"Good." Her usual mischief returns, though dimmed. "Now, when are you planning this grand escape? Because I need time to prepare my very convincing 'Lady Seraphina is fine, just overwhelmed' speech."
