We spend the next few hours catching up, dancing carefully around the topics of Dimitri’s betrayal, Kallan, Koen, andmy impending marriage, which is really doom disguised as duty. For once, the weight of it doesn’t crush me. For once, itfeels like just two friends on a bed, talking. Laughing. Pretending everything isn’t falling apart. I guess for her, it isn’t.
Eventually, exhaustion claims us. Sleep drags me under, mercifully dreamless.
It feels like mere minutes later when the door slams open, making me jolt awake.
“Good morning, ladies,” Dimitri’s voice rings, far too cheerful.
We both groan in unison. Ravelle snatches up a pillow and hurls it at him. He catches it with a smirk.
“Go away, Dimitri,” she mutters.
He ignores her. “I need to speak with you, Serenya. Both of you, get dressed and join me in the meeting room.” Just like that, he’s gone again, striding away with infuriating ease.
“I’m going to kill him,” I groan.
“Wait until after we marry,” Ravelle says with a wicked smirk. “When I become queen, then you can.”
I laugh as we pull ourselves out of bed and dress. She gives me an outfit like her own, but all black.
Together, we make our way to join Dimitri.
I take my seat at the long obsidian table. The room is quiet but heavy, lit by tall candles that flicker against map-covered stone walls. Noctheron’s royal meeting room is smaller than the one in Syltheriel, but it feels more intimate.
…And more suffocating.
Dimitri leans forward, fingers laced on the table, his expression unreadable. Ravelle sits beside him with arms crossed, gaze softer than Dimitri’s but no less focused.
Dimitri breaks the silence. “I wanted to wait until youwere feeling stronger,” he begins. “But we can’t be sure how much time we have.”
My spine straightens instinctively. “This is about Elowen again.”
“Yes.”
I exhale through my nose, unwilling to meet his eyes. The tension between us hasn’t fully dissolved. I still can’t forget about the role he played in Kallan’sdeath.
He continues, “One of my sources just sent word. Elowen is searching for three ancient artifacts.”
My brow furrows. “Artifacts?”
“I don’t know the specifics yet,” he admits. “But my source suspects they are tied to the Veil.”
My heart skips. “What would she want with the Veil?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “However, we believe that she has already found one.”
My hands tighten in my lap.
Dimitri meets my eyes across the table. “I need your help. You know I can’t fight her alone. The Syltheriel court needs to understand what’s coming, and I can’t get that message across without you.”
I don’t answer.
Ravelle just watches, sensing the tension rise between us, no doubt.
Dimitri’s voice lowers. “Serenya, please. This is serious.”
I clench my jaw and drop my gaze to the table. “I can’t.”
Something in him snaps. “Why not?” He slams his hands on the table and rises halfway from his seat. “Why do you keepturning away from this? Why do you keep pretending it's nothing?”
