Chapter 23 – Drowning

Chapter 23 – Drowning

Selene’s POV

The walls of the palace feel like they’re pressing in on me. Each hallway echoes with whispered conversations I can’t quite hear, each glance from a passing servant feels like a judgment I can’t ignore. The weight of the day clings to my shoulders like a wet cloak I can’t peel off. My head throbs with the leftover noise of arguments, revelations, and truths I never asked for but can’t escape now. My stomach turns with unease, and I can barely breathe in the gilded rooms that once seemed like a dream and now feel like a trap.

I don’t know where else to go, so I flee.

My feet move on instinct, carrying me out into the night. The palace doors give way to the gardens... lush, dark, and bathed in moonlight. I step into the soft silence, the heavy scent of blooming jasmine curling around me like a ghost. The air is crisp, biting at my skin, but it’s honest. The cold doesn’t lie.

My heels crunch over the gravel path as I make my way toward the pond at the far end of the estate. It’s a forgotten place, tucked away from the main walkways, hidden beneath weeping willows and overshadowed by ivy-draped trellises. The surface of the water glistens under the moon, a perfect mirror to the star-strewn sky above. It should be calming. I want it to be. I need it to be. I crouch by the edge, hugging my arms around myself, trying to quiet the roar in my head.

Lucian’s voice still haunts me, every word from that tense conversation replaying like a scratched record. The look on his face when I asked about the past... guarded, distant, familiar in a way I didn’t want to admit. And the room I found... his mother’s letters, the forgotten photo frames, the box of memories he never shared with me. I discovered so much, and yet I still feel like I know nothing. Nothing except that he’s hiding pieces of himself... and that maybe I was never meant to find them.

The breeze shifts. Footsteps echo behind me.

I freeze.

The crunch of shoes on gravel... two sets. Deliberate. Approaching. And somehow, I know before I turn who it is.

Zaria and Isolde.

Perfect.

Out of everyone who could have come searching for me tonight, it had to be those two. The last thing I have the strength for is this... their polished cruelty wrapped in polite smiles and sugary words. I brace myself, slow to rise, every muscle taut with resistance.

“Selene, darling,” Isolde coos, her voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “Are you alright? You look... lost.”

I don’t trust her concern. I never have. There’s a gleam in her eyes... a predator’s patience.

“I just needed some air,” I murmur, barely louder than the wind. I don’t want to give them anything more than that.

Zaria, unlike her polished companion, doesn’t bother with a facade. Her expression is unfiltered disdain. “Surprised you’re still here, honestly. I figured you’d be gone by now. Most mistakes know when they’ve overstayed.”

The words slice, sharper than she knows. Or maybe she does. Maybe that’s the point.

I don’t respond. Letting her rile me up would be giving her power I refuse to offer.

“You never belonged in this palace,” Zaria continues, arms folded. “You’re just a charity case in a designer gown. Lucian might dress you up and show you off, but everyone knows the truth.”

I swallow hard. My fingers clench around the purse I’m holding.

Zaria tilts her head, eyes gleaming with cruelty. “He’ll leave you. Eventually. It won’t even be a scandal. It’ll be relief. Everyone’s waiting for it. You? You’re just a moment. A placeholder.”

I should walk away. I should say nothing. But then I see Isolde’s fake smile tighten... just slightly. And something inside me snaps.

“I’m sure you’d love that,” I say, voice shaking but steady. “Just like you loved it when he and Isolde broke up. Must’ve killed you to see the man you’re obsessed with fall for someone else.”

Zaria’s eyes narrow instantly, her mouth opening before she catches herself. She glances toward Isolde, then quickly masks the slip. But I saw it. I see her.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she spits.

I take a step forward. “You’ve liked him all along. Even when he was with your best friend. Maybe that’s why you hate me... because I’m here. And you’re not.”

Her rage boils over. “Shut your mouth, you delusional freak!”

“No,” I press, voice firmer now. “I saw you that night... Valentine’s Day. You were standing in the rain, watching us from the street. You sent the roses. The note. You wanted me humiliated.”

“Shut up!” Her voice is loud now, desperate.

“Hurting me won’t make him love you, Zaria.”

That’s when she snaps. She lunges forward and shoves me hard. I stumble back, my heels slipping on the damp stones. My purse slips from my fingers. I reach for it, but she’s faster. With one cruel swing of her arm, she hurls it into the pond.

A sickening splash.

Time stops.

My breath catches, horror rising like bile in my throat.

Not the purse. Not that purse.

I move toward the edge without thinking. “I need to get it.”

Zaria shrugs. “Then swim.”

They just stand there, unmoving, watching me like a scene in a play. Amused. Detached.

I kick off my heels, hike up my gown, and step into the water.

It’s freezing.

The cold bites at my skin immediately, and my dress soaks through within seconds, dragging heavily around me. The pond floor is slimy, slick with algae. I stumble with every step. But I press on.

The bag is sinking fast.

I move deeper, the water climbing up my chest, stealing my breath. The reflection of the moon breaks around me, distorted by my thrashing.

I dive my arms beneath the surface, fingers combing blindly. Panic surges in my chest. My lungs scream. My eyes sting.

Then... contact.

The edge of the bag brushes my fingers. I grasp it, frantic, opening the clasp with trembling hands.

I reach inside.

The earrings. The Marie Gorriete earrings... Lucian’s mother’s heirloom. Sacred. Irreplaceable. I clutch them tight.

Relief.

But then... 

My foot slips.

The bottom vanishes beneath me.

I’m too far out.

My arms flail, the water choking me. My dress wraps around my legs like a noose, dragging me downward. I scream, but the sound barely rises above the surface. The cold claws at me. I kick, panic overtaking logic.

Then... noise.

Voices. Footsteps. Shouting.

From the corner of my blurred vision, I see movement on the bank. A crowd gathering. Isolde steps forward, then, in a calculated move, throws herself into the water.

Her scream pierces the night. A damsel in distress.

And everyone reacts.

Lucian.

Theron.

They rush in.

But not for me.

Lucian dives toward her, arms cutting through the water like a knife, his eyes locked on Isolde’s figure.

He doesn’t see me.

No one sees me.

I want to scream for help, but the water steals my voice. I want to wave, to fight, to rise... but my strength is gone. I cling to the earrings even as the rest of me slips beneath the surface.

The last thing I see is Lucian reaching Isolde, wrapping his arms around her, carrying her to safety.

And then, darkness swallows me whole.