Chapter 10 — "The Veil of the Serpent"
The night pressed close against the palace, a velvet shroud filled with hidden eyes and quiet menace. Selene moved through the corridors with the weight of the Crescent Mark beneath her gown, each step measured, each breath sharpened by anticipation. The threads of betrayal she had begun to unravel were now a tapestry of half-truths, hidden motives, and whispered warnings — and at its center was the Serpent.
She had tracked the shadows for days, piecing together sightings, letters, and subtle signs. The Serpent was everywhere and nowhere: the flicker of movement in candlelight, the faint scent of jasmine in abandoned corridors, the whisper of silk across marble floors. But tonight, Selene was determined to pull aside the veil.
The Serpent's lair — or what Selene had deduced to be one — lay beyond the private chambers of the palace library. A door carved from blackened oak hid the entry, unmarked, as if daring the unwary to enter. Selene pressed her hand to the crescent at her chest, feeling it pulse like a heartbeat in time with her own, and lifted the latch with deliberate quiet.
Inside, the room smelled of parchment, ink, and faint sandalwood. Candles lined the walls, their flames steady, unmoving, casting shadows that twisted like serpents across the floor. And there she was — the Serpent — seated at a desk, her back to Selene, head bowed over letters and maps, fingers moving with the precision of a master strategist.
Selene stepped closer, letting the sound of her boots on stone announce her presence. The Serpent did not turn immediately. When she did, her face was partially hidden beneath a hood, but Selene caught the glint of onyx eyes and a faint, knowing smile.
"You came," the Serpent said softly, almost amused. "I wondered how long it would take before curiosity outweighed caution."
Selene's dagger remained hidden, her posture deliberate. "The time for games is over. Who are you? And why are you so entwined with Eira's actions? I need the truth, not riddles."
The Serpent's laugh was a quiet hiss, silk and shadow. "Truth is never free, Selene. And neither is knowledge. You follow threads because they serve you, but the threads themselves belong to someone else. Someone who watches the Moon and bends its light to her will."
Selene's brow furrowed. "You speak in circles. Stop hiding behind words. Who are you?"
The Serpent's hood fell back slightly as she leaned forward, candlelight revealing a face both familiar and impossible. Selene's breath caught. The features were hers — and not hers — sharp cheekbones, silver eyes glinting with mischief, and the faintest trace of her mother's curve to the lips.
"I am the shadow you did not see," the Serpent said, voice low, measured. "I am what Eira could not be, and what the palace fears. I am both a warning and a consequence. And you… You are now part of my game."
Selene's heart pounded. "What do you mean? Are you… Eira?"
The Serpent shook her head, a slow, deliberate motion. "Not Eira. But I was made by the same hand that forced her choice. I am her mirror, her shadow, her consequence… and perhaps, if you are clever enough, your ally."
Selene's mind reeled. "Then all this — the coin, the letters, the warnings — it was orchestrated by you?"
The Serpent inclined her head. "Or perhaps by someone who uses me. Someone powerful. The Prince, the palace, even your own fate — none of it is what it seems. But know this: the threads you follow lead to more than your sister. They lead to power, betrayal, and choices you cannot yet fathom."
Selene's hand went to the Crescent Mark. Every pulse, every throb, felt like the Goddess herself warning her. She took a steadying breath. "Then tell me what I need to know. I will not be deceived, and I will not falter."
The Serpent smiled, a slow, almost predatory curve. "Very well, Lady of the Moon. The first truth you must accept is this: not all who appear as enemies are your foes. Not all who seem allies are true. And in this palace, the mirror sometimes reflects the hand that strikes before you even see it."
Selene's jaw tightened. "Then teach me to see before the strike."
The Serpent leaned back, letting her words hang in the candlelight like a dagger poised over a throat. "Perhaps you will learn… or perhaps the Moon will show you the consequences of seeing too much, too soon. The choice is yours, but remember — once the veil is lifted, nothing remains the same."
Selene's silver eyes glimmered. The threads of betrayal were now tangible, the Serpent's identity partially revealed, and the stakes higher than ever. She had glimpsed the web, and now she would begin to cut it, strand by strand.
"Then let it begin," Selene whispered, voice steady and sharp. "I will uncover every shadow, every secret, every lie. And when I do, those who betrayed me — and those who hide in the dark — will learn what it means to face the Moon's Rejected Bride."
The Serpent's eyes glittered like onyx in the candlelight. "Very well. Then let the game truly begin."