Aria's POV
Pain wakes me.
Not the sharp pain from the crossbow bolt—that's been removed. This is worse. Deep, burning agony that spreads from my shoulder through my entire body.
Infection.
I force my eyes open. I'm in a dungeon cell, chained to a wall. The wound in my shoulder is wrapped in dirty bandages already soaked through with blood and pus.
I'm going to die here. Not from execution. From infection and blood loss.
"You're awake. Good."
I turn my head—slowly, because everything hurts—and see Brother Thomas sitting outside my cell. He looks exhausted. Worried.
"How long?" My voice is a rasp.
"Two days since you were shot. The King still lives, barely. Prince Cassian hasn't been found." Thomas stands and unlocks the cell door. "I convinced the guards to let me treat you. Told them you're useless for questioning if you die of infection."
He kneels beside me with a bag of supplies. Begins unwrapping the filthy bandages.
"This will hurt," he warns.
He's not wrong. I bite back a scream as he cleans the wound with something that burns like fire. My vision goes white.
"The bolt went clean through," Thomas explains while he works. "Missed major blood vessels, but the wound's infected. You need stronger medicine than we have. You need—"
"Antibiotics," I gasp. "But you don't have those yet. You won't for centuries."
Thomas pauses. "What are antibiotics?"
Through the pain-fog, I remember—I have knowledge this world needs. Knowledge that could save my life.
"Medicines that fight infection. You can make a basic version from mold. Bread mold specifically." I'm shaking from fever and pain. "Find bread that's gone green with mold. The fuzzy kind. Scrape it off carefully. Mix it with clean water and use it to clean wounds. It'll fight the infection."
"That's insane. Mold causes disease—"
"Some molds do. But this specific kind produces a substance that kills infection. Trust me. Please."
Thomas stares at me. "You're delirious with fever."
"I'm dying from infection. What do you have to lose by trying?" I meet his eyes. "Brother Thomas, you said I have unusual knowledge. This is part of it. My mother taught me things your world hasn't discovered yet. If you want me alive to testify against Seraphina, you need to try."
He stands slowly. "Lady Seraphina claims you poisoned the King. She says Prince Cassian was your accomplice. The evidence—the vial with your seal—"
"Was planted. Just like everything else she's framed me with." I pull against my chains, desperate. "Thomas, listen. The King was poisoned the same way as Princess Elara, Clara, and Lord Marcus. Same poison. Same method. Seraphina has access to everything—the medicine rooms, the castle, the King's chambers through her role managing medical supplies. She's been planning this for months."
"These are serious accusations—"
"Then investigate! Check who's benefiting from all these deaths. Who becomes Queen if the King dies and Cassian is executed for treason?" I can barely breathe through the pain. "Seraphina. She wins everything. And she gets away with it because everyone's too scared to suspect a beautiful noblewoman."
Thomas is quiet for a long moment. Then: "The Prince believed you. Why else would he run?"
"He ran to find proof. To save us both." My eyes close. "But I'm running out of time. This infection will kill me in days. Maybe hours."
"Then I'll try your mold treatment. But if it doesn't work—"
"Then I die anyway. At least we tried something new."
He leaves. I drift in and out of consciousness, fever dreams mixing with reality. I see Marcus's betrayal. Sarah's laughter. The car going over the cliff. Then Cassian's face when I pushed him out of the bolt's path. The moment he chose to leave me behind.
Did I make a mistake trusting him?
Time blurs. Could be minutes or hours before Thomas returns.
He has bread covered in green fuzzy mold. Looks disgusted but determined.
"This better work, Lady Aria. Because if it doesn't, I'm trying something that could kill you faster."
He scrapes the mold carefully into water, just like I described. Cleans my wound again—I scream this time, can't help it. Then applies the mold mixture.
"Now we wait," he says.
"How's the King?"
"Still alive. Barely. The poison damaged his heart. He's not expected to survive the week." Thomas looks at me sadly. "If he dies, you'll be executed immediately. Prince Cassian too, if he's caught."
"Has there been any word of him?"
"Sightings near the Northern border. Some say he's gathering the Northern Clans for war. Others say he's already dead, killed by bandits or Seraphina's assassins." Thomas hesitates. "Do you really believe he'll come back for you?"
I want to say yes. Want to believe Cassian's promise. But I'm chained in a dungeon, dying of infection, while he's free and hunted.
Would I come back if our positions were reversed?
"I don't know," I admit. "But I have to hope. Because if he doesn't, Seraphina wins. And everyone she's hurt—Princess Elara, Clara, Lord Marcus, the King, me—we all died for nothing."
Thomas nods slowly. "Then I'll hope with you. And I'll keep you alive long enough to see if that hope is worth anything."
He leaves to dispose of the mold supplies. I'm alone with my fever and pain and desperate, fragile hope.
Hours pass. Maybe a full day. My fever spikes higher. I'm hallucinating, seeing things that aren't there.
Then, slowly, the fever breaks.
I wake clearheaded for the first time in days. My shoulder still hurts, but different. Less burning. The infection smell is fading.
The mold mixture worked.
Thomas appears like he's been checking on me constantly. His face lights up when he sees my clear eyes.
"By the saints. It actually worked. The infection's receding." He examines my wound with wonder. "This mold treatment—this is revolutionary. We could save so many lives—"
"If I survive to teach it to more people," I interrupt. "Thomas, how long until they execute me?"
His expression darkens. "The King worsened overnight. The court wants someone to pay. Queen Mother has demanded your execution tomorrow at dawn. She says you're a witch who cursed the entire royal family."
Tomorrow. I have less than a day.
"And Cassian?"
"Still missing. There are rumors—" He stops.
"Tell me."
"They're saying he's raised an army. That he's marching on the capital to free you by force. It would mean civil war."
Horror fills me. "No. He can't. If he starts a war over me, Seraphina wins anyway. The kingdom tears itself apart while she positions herself as the peace candidate."
"What would you have him do? Watch you die?"
I don't have an answer.
The cell door crashes open. Guards flood in, but not to hurt me—to protect.
Because standing in the doorway, covered in road dust and blood, sword drawn, is Prince Cassian.
He's alive. He came back.
Behind him, I see Lord Darius and a dozen loyal soldiers. They've fought their way into the dungeons.
"Aria." Cassian's voice breaks on my name. He crosses the cell in three strides, dropping to his knees beside me. His hands shake as he touches my face. "You're alive. Thank God, you're alive."
"You came back," I whisper.
"I promised." His gray eyes burn with intensity. "I promised I'd come back for you. Did you really think I'd break that promise?"
"I thought you'd be smart enough to save yourself—"
"Without you? Never." He starts unlocking my chains with keys he must have taken from guards. "We're getting you out of here. Now."
"Cassian, the King—"
"I know. I have proof. Actual, undeniable proof of Seraphina's guilt." He pulls a leather pouch from his belt. "But first, we need to move. The castle guards are minutes behind us. This is a rescue, not a negotiation."
Thomas steps forward. "Your Highness, she's wounded. Infected. She can't travel—"
"Then I'll carry her." Cassian lifts me despite my gasp of pain. "Darius, clear the path. Thomas, you're coming with us. I need you to testify about the mold treatment and everything Aria told you."
"You want me to betray the crown?"
"I want you to serve justice. Choose."
Thomas grabs his medical bag. "I choose the truth."
We rush through the dungeons. I cling to Cassian, barely conscious. Everything's a blur of stone corridors and shouting and the thunder of our escape.
We burst into a courtyard. Horses wait. Cassian lifts me onto his stallion and mounts behind me, holding me against his chest.
"Ride!" he commands.
We gallop through castle gates that someone—Darius probably—managed to open. Into the city. Through narrow streets as the sun rises.
Behind us, alarm bells ring. The entire castle wakes to the news: the traitor prince has returned and stolen the condemned witch.
We ride until the city disappears behind us. Until we reach a forest where more soldiers wait—men loyal to Cassian, not the crown.
Only then does he slow. Pull me closer. Check my wound with gentle hands.
"You took a crossbow bolt for me," he says quietly. "Why?"
"Because you were the only one who believed me. Who fought for me." I lean back against his chest, exhausted. "Because somewhere between wanting me dead and saving my life, you became someone worth saving too."
His arms tighten around me. "I have proof, Aria. Proof that will clear us both and destroy Seraphina. But getting it cost me everything—my crown, my kingdom, my father's trust. The only thing I didn't lose was you."
"What did you find?"
He pulls out the leather pouch. Inside are papers covered in familiar handwriting.
Seraphina's handwriting.
"Letters," Cassian explains. "Between Seraphina and the Kingdom of Mordanna. She's been working with them for over a year. They paid her to destabilize Valcrest—murder the Princess, poison the King, frame you and me as traitors. Once the kingdom falls into chaos, Mordanna invades and Seraphina becomes their puppet queen."
I stare at the letters. Evidence. Finally.
"Where did you get these?"
"I broke into her family estate in the North. Found her private study. She kept everything—plans, payments, correspondence. She documented her own treason." His laugh is bitter. "Arrogance. She never thought anyone would dare look."
"This is enough to execute her."
"If we can get it to the right people before she has us killed." He looks at me seriously. "Aria, the next part is dangerous. We have to return to the castle. Present this evidence publicly before the full court. If we fail—"
"We don't fail," I interrupt. "We've come too far to fail now."
He smiles—the first real smile I've seen from the Ice Prince. It transforms his face completely.
"Then we finish this. Together."
But as our group prepares to ride back toward the capital, toward the final confrontation with Seraphina, Lord Darius approaches with his face pale.
"Your Highness. A messenger just arrived from the castle."
"What now?"
"The King has died. An hour ago. His final words declared you a traitor and named..." Darius swallows hard. "Named Lady Seraphina as regent until a proper heir is determined."
The world stops.
"No," I breathe.
"She's Queen now," Darius continues. "With full authority. And her first order as regent is your immediate execution. Both of you. By any means necessary. She's offered a massive reward for your heads."
Cassian's face goes stone cold. "How many soldiers does she command?"
"All of them. You're officially declared enemies of the crown."
We're outlaws now. Hunted. And Seraphina has won the throne.
"What do we do?" I ask.
Cassian looks at the letters, at me, at his tiny band of loyal soldiers. Then at the castle in the distance where Seraphina now sits on a throne built on murder and lies.
His eyes blaze with determination.
"We go to war."