THE KING'S JUDGMENT

The throne room felt colder than the night outside. Sera stood with the spelt chains weighing on her wrists, very aware of the guards positioned throughout the room, of Elara's hostile stare boring into her back, of Lucien standing rigid beside her.

Most of all, she was aware of King Matthias studying her with those ancient eyes, calculating and cold. "Lucien," the king said finally. "Would you care to explain why you've brought a witch into my palace? Into my presence? At midnight?"

"Your Majesty—" Lucien started.

"And not just any witch, from what I'm sensing." With predatory grace, Matthias rose slowly from his throne and descended the steps. "One you've... bonded to?"

The gathered guards felt astonishment as the words dropped like stones into quiet water.

Sera heard whispers, gasps. Beside her, Lucien's shoulders tightened.

"Yes," he replied simply.

Matthias paused a few feet away, glancing between Sera and his son. Sera sensed danger emanating from him like scorching heat, even if his countenance was unreadable. This vampire had ruled for generations, putting down uprisings and keeping his people under strict supervision. You should not undervalue this person.

"Remarkable," Matthias said. "And how exactly did this happen?"

"I don't know," Lucien said. "The Crimson Room was close to her.

The bond manifested when we saw each other. I pursued, captured her, and brought her here because..." He trailed off, seeming to struggle for words. "Because the bond wouldn't let you kill her," Matthias finished. "Even though that's what protocol demands. What four centuries of law demand.

What my grandfather's memory requires."

Sera forced herself to talk even though her lips were dry. "I didn't want this either."

She felt the tangible weight of Matthias's attention as his focus suddenly shifted to her. "I don't recall giving you permission to speak, witch."

"I don't recall asking for it."

Before she could stop them, the words had already been spoken. Elara let out what sounded like a choked swear. The hands of several guards shifted to their firearms. However, Sera had had enough of being scared and cowering. She would die on her own terms if it was inevitable.

Matthias surprised her by grinning.

It wasn't a kind expression. "Brave," he said. "Or foolish. With your kind, it's often hard to tell the difference." He circled her slowly, assessing. "What's your name?" "Sera Thorne." She oversaw his reaction. If he recognised her family name, recognised the connection to Morgana, he didn't show it.

Though given that Morgana had been executed four centuries ago, her family name might mean nothing to him now. "And what brought you to vampire territory tonight, Sera Thorne?" Matthias asked. "Surely you know that witches found here are killed on sight. Were you on some mission for your resistance? Spying? Planning sabotage?" "I was following the mate bond," Sera said honestly.

When the truth was imprinted on her and Lucien, there was no need to lie. "I tried to resist it, tried to go home, but it pulled me here."

"Convenient," Elara said behind them.

Matthias held up a hand for silence. "The mate bond can't be faked. That much I know. But it also hasn't manifested between our kinds since..." He paused meaningfully. "Well.

The last time a vampire and witch foolishly believed in such a bond, we all know what happened."

Sera exclaimed, "My ancestor was innocent," before she could stop herself.

The room's temperature appeared to drop by ten degrees. There was no longer any softness in Matthias's countenance as he turned to completely face her.

"Your ancestor?"

"Morgana Thorne," Sera murmured, raising her chin. "King Aldric was not killed by her. She was set up.

There was complete stillness after that. The guards appeared to have stopped breathing as well. Through the bond, Sera sensed Lucien's disbelief and his immediate defensive rage at her charge.

Matthias let out a low, humourless laugh. "I understand. You are a descendant of the witch who killed my grandfather, in addition to having a bond with my son. The symmetry is nearly poetic.

"She didn't murder him," Sera maintained. "The trial was a fraud. The evidence was suppressed. Just have a look at—"

"Enough."

Matthias's voice broke like a whip. "During my entire life, I witnessed my father's grief for his father. That murder and its treachery weighed heavily on me as I grew up. And you dare tell me it was all a lie while standing in chains in my palace?"

"Yes," Sera replied, her heart pounding. "Because it was."

She worried for a long time that he might end her own life. She noticed his fangs slightly expand as his hands flexed at his sides. Then, though, he inhaled and showed signs of self-control.

"Lucien," he uttered while maintaining eye contact with Sera.

"A word. Alone." "Your Majesty—" "Now."

After a moment of hesitation, Lucien followed his father to a side entrance. He looked back at Sera before he left, and she saw his turmoil through the bond—angry at her allegation, worried about her, confused about everything.

After that, they vanished, leaving Sera alone with Elara and twelve antagonistic guards.

Elara moved forward right away, drawing near enough for Sera to see the sparkles of gold in her amber eyes. "Are you not actually descended from her? The witch who murdered our king.

"She didn't—"

"Save it," Elara interrupted. "Your conspiracy theories don't concern me. I'm concerned that you've put Lucien in a bond that will kill him. 

Just like it got Aldric killed."

"I didn't trap anyone," Sera retorted. "I didn't ask for this. This is not what I wanted.

"Then why didn't you run?" Elara made a demand. "When you sensed the bond, why didn't you leave the city? What brought you here?

Sera had been asking herself the same question, so it was reasonable. She had followed the pull, but why? Why hadn't she packed everything and left as soon as she sensed it?

"Because I'm tired of running," she finally replied. "Because I've lived my entire life pretending to be someone I'm not, hiding who I am, and denying my power. And I thought when I sensed the connection. Unsure of how to describe it, she drifted off.

"You thought what?"

 Elara pressed. "That maybe there was a reason. That maybe if the bond exists, if it's pulling me toward a vampire despite everything, there might be something bigger at work. Something that could change things." Elara stared at her for a long moment.

"You actually believe that. You actually think you and Lucien are going to end the war? Bring peace between our kinds? Just like Aldric and Morgana tried to do?" "They didn't try to do anything," Sera said. "They didn't get the chance. Someone killed Aldric before they could." "Morgana killed him!" "No." Sera's voice was firm. "Someone else did.

Someone who was against peace. We are all doomed to repeat this cycle indefinitely if no one ever considers the reality and everyone simply continues to believe the lie.

Elara's expression briefly changed; it wasn't precisely agreement, but perhaps a crack in her confidence. Before she could reply, Lucien and Matthias came back via the side entrance.

Lucien appeared tight and upset, but the king's countenance was unreadable. Their conversation had not gone well.

"I've made a decision," Matthias declared. "You are accused of breaking into vampire territory, which carries a death sentence, Sera Thorne.

But I'm willing to be merciful because of the... unique circumstances."

His following words made Sera's heart skip a beat.

"You will be kept here, in the palace, under constant guard. You will be questioned about which resistance movements, about your people's plans, about everything you know. And then, once we've determined you're no longer useful, you will be executed."

"Father—" Lucien started. "Unless," Matthias continued, raising a hand, "you can prove your claim. You say Morgana Thorne didn't kill my grandfather? Fine. Prove it. You have one month. If you can show me evidence—real, verifiable evidence—that my grandfather was murdered by someone other than his witch mate, I'll spare your life."

It was a trap, Sera realized. There was no evidence. Everything had been destroyed or hidden four hundred years ago. Even the letter she'd found tonight was just a fragment, barely legible, indeed not enough to prove anything. Matthias was offering her false hope while giving himself time to extract information and plan an execution that wouldn't destabilise the mate bond's effects on Lucien. But it was also an opening. A month was better than immediate death.

"I accept," she said. "Good." Matthias looked at Lucien. "You will oversee her custody. She stays in the east wing, under guard at all times. You may work with her on this investigation, since you're apparently unable to keep away due to the bond. But Lucien—" His voice hardened.

"Don't mistake my mercy for approval. If she can't prove her claims, she dies. Mate bond or not. Am I clear?" "Crystal," Lucien said quietly. "Excellent. Now get her out of my sight. I need to think about how to explain this disaster to the council." Guards moved forward to escort Sera away.

She noticed Matthias observing her with a look she couldn't quite decipher as they brought her to the door. It may be a calculation. It could be something more intricate.

They proceeded up several flights of stairs and through several hallways before arriving at what appeared to be the east wing. Here, the hallways were more domestic and quieter.

Finally, they stopped at a door. "Your chambers," one guard said, unlocking it. Sera stepped inside and was surprised by what she found. This wasn't a cell. It was a suite—sitting room, bedroom visible through another door, tall windows that looked out over the city. Furnished comfortably, even luxuriously. Her prison was nicer than her actual apartment. "The windows are warded," Lucien said from behind her. "Don't try to escape through them.

There will be 24-hour security at the door. Unless you need to eat or take a bath, in which case guards will be present, your chains will remain in place."

Sera looked up at him. The realization that they were alone for the first time since the mate bond had bound them together hovered between them.

"So you're my jailer," she remarked.

"I'm trying to keep you alive," he clarified.

"My father wanted to execute you immediately. I convinced him to give you this chance." "How generous of you."

His jaw clenched. "You have no idea what you've done. The position you've put me in. King Aldric is my ancestor. Every vampire is familiar with the tale of how his witch lover killed him and how trust and love led to his demise. And now I have a bond with a witch who insists she was innocent and says she is descended from that same murderer. Do you know what this looks like?

"About as bad as how it looks for me," Sera retorted. Bonded with a vampire whose great-great-grandfather was purportedly murdered by my ancestor. Imprisoned in the palace of the king, who has been pursuing my people for four hundred years.

I'm not exactly having a great night either."

They gazed at one another, their connection drawing them closer even as mistrust and rage drove them apart. Through the bond, Sera could sense his feelings: dread, frustration, and, behind it all, an unwelcome attraction that reflected her own.

She detested how attractive she found him. She hated the fact that, while being chained and imprisoned, a part of her yearned to be nearer to him and experience the bond's completion.

"This won't work," she said.

"Your father's challenge. There's no evidence left after four hundred years. He knows that. This is just a slower execution." "Then we'll have to find evidence," Lucien said. "You mentioned proof. What did you mean?" Sera hesitated. She'd left her bag at the archive when she ran—stupid, panicked decision.

The letter fragment was in that bag. By now, the building would be locked for the night. "I found something tonight," she admitted. "A partial letter that suggests someone else was involved in Aldric's death. But I left it behind when I ran from you." "Where?" "The city archives.

In my bag, in the basement level where the old records are kept." Lucien considered this. "I can send someone to retrieve it tomorrow." "No." Sera shook her head. "The archives are human territory, neutral ground.

If vampires start searching it, people will notice and ask questions. And the letter is fragile. If someone handles it wrong, it could fall apart completely."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Let me go back," Sera murmured. "During business hours tomorrow. I'll go get it myself. If you'd like, you can accompany me; just be careful."

"You think I'd let you out of the palace?" Lucien had a disbelieving expression. "You'd run the moment we hit the street."

"Where would I go?"

Sera asked. "You've felt the bond. You know how strong it is. I can't run from you—not really. The pull would bring me back."

She saw him think about this and accept the truth. Neither of them could separate from the other due to the bond. The charmed metal around her wrists was not as effective as this chain.

Finally, "I'll think about it," he said. "You should get some rest in the meantime. We'll begin organizing a response to your implausible assertion tomorrow.

Sera's words stopped him as he turned to walk away.

"Lucien." He paused. "Thank you. For keeping me alive tonight."

His expression was complex as he turned to face her again. "Don't thank me just yet. We have a month to establish that the most well-known murder story in our history did not occur as everyone believes, something no one has done in four centuries. I can't stop my father from putting you to death if we fail. It won't matter about the bond. Nothing will.

"I know."

"And even if we succeed," he went on, "even if we manage to establish Morgana's innocence, that doesn't mean we have a future." There is still fighting amongst our types.

We're still enemies."

"I know that too."

Something briefly passed between them, perhaps a mutual realization of how unfeasible their circumstances were. Then Lucien shut the door behind him and left. Sera heard guards positioning themselves outside and listened to the lock click.

She was alone.

Sera went to the window and gazed down at the city. Unaware that one of their own was imprisoned in the vampire castle, Rowan and the other witches would be living their secret lives somewhere. Without being aware of the challenge, the mate bond, or anything else.

She ought to be afraid.

 And she was part of her. But another part, the part that had spent three years researching in archives and believing in truth, felt something else. Hope. She had a month.

Thirty days to find evidence that had eluded everyone for four hundred years.

 Thirty days to demonstrate that her ancestor was innocent, that the war was based on a falsehood, and that perhaps—just possibly—the mate bond had brought her and Lucien together.

It was not feasible.

However, Sera had always been drawn to impossibilities.

But Sera had always been drawn to impossible things.

She felt the enchanted chains dampen her power as she touched them on her wrists. She would have to persuade Lucien to allow her to visit the archives tomorrow. She would have to locate that letter piece, thoroughly examine it, and determine whether there are any further hints.

With enemies on all sides and a ticking clock leading up to her death, she would have to solve a murder that occurred before she was ever born.

She could see the sun starting to paint the horizon through the window. Dawn was approaching. A fresh day marked the beginning of what could be her final month.

Sera grimaced. If she had to die, at least it would be while pursuing the truth. 

Her grandmother would have been in favour.

Through the bond, she sensed Lucien's presence somewhere in the palace; he was awake, agitated, and grappling with the same impractical circumstance. For a moment, their thoughts met, and she sensed his resolve reflecting her own.

This could have been. This could have been doomed from the start. But they had one month to rewrite history. And Sera had never backed down from a challenge, no matter how impossible it seemed.