The door opened, and Evelina stepped inside. She was bathed in the morning sunlight, her golden hair glowing like a halo. But as our eyes met, she didn't just smile.
She froze.
Her breath hitched, a small, choked sound escaping her throat. The wooden box she carried trembled in her hands, the carved lid rattling against the base.
"Seraphina," she whispered. Her voice wasn't chirpy; it was thick with an emotion I couldn't quite place. Relief? Guilt? Or is it an act to catch me off guard?
She rushed to my bedside, her white robes fluttering like the wings of a panicked bird. Before I could recoil, she reached out and grasped my hands. Her palms were clammy and shaking.
"You're awake. You're really here," she said, her eyes welling with sudden, fat tears. One escaped, trailing down her porcelain cheek. "I had the most horrible nightmare, Seraphina. I dreamt that you were gone... that I had lost you to a darkness I couldn't reach."
I stared at her, my heart a block of ice. A nightmare? Or a memory of the dungeon you left me in?
"I'm right here, Evelina," I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. I didn't pull my hands away, though her touch made my skin crawl. "Why are you crying? It's just a new day."
"I know, I know," she sobbed softly, pressing my hands against her cool forehead. It was a gesture of deep devotion—the kind of thing a true friend would do. "I just... I feel like I haven't seen you in years. Please, promise me you'll stay close to me today. The Empire is becoming so... cold."
She looked up at me, and for a split second, I saw a flash of bone-white in her golden hair— She was hiding it with a silk ribbon, but it was there.
She held out the wooden box, her fingers still twitching. "I brought this for you. It's a tea blend I made myself. It's for... for protection. Please, Seraphina. Drink it. I can't lose you again."
The desperation in her voice was so real it almost made me waver. Was she truly a traitor? Were all those years we spent just part of her elaborate schemes?
Then, I remembered the garden. I remembered her handing that pouch to Killian, the man who watched me die.
"You're so sensitive, Evelina," I said, forcing a gentle tone as I took the box. "I'll drink every drop. I promise."
She wiped her eyes, giving me a watery, fragile smile. "Thank you. I have to go prepare for the ceremony now. Alaric is waiting for me at the Temple... he's been acting so strange lately, as if he's seen a ghost."
As she turned to leave, she stopped at the doorway, her shoulders hunched. "Seraphina? No matter what happens... please know that everything I do is to keep us safe."
She didn't wait for an answer. She hurried away, her footsteps frantic in the hallway.
I looked down at the box. If she loved me so much, why was I the one who died in a hole while she vanished? I walked to the window and looked out. Below, in the courtyard, I saw a flash of black armor.
Killian. He was standing by the fountain, his gaze fixed upward—directly at my window. In his hand, he held a small, leather-bound pouch. The same one Evelina had given him in the past.
My blood ran cold. The game was exactly the same, but this time, the players were all acting different.