Away from the crowded banquet halls and glittering chandeliers, a smaller chamber near the western corridor had long been claimed by the empire's noblemen. The atmosphere here was far rougher than the ballroom above; heavy laughter mixed with the sharp scent of liquor and smoke, and crystal glasses clinked carelessly as exhausted lords loosened their collars and abandoned formal decorum for the night.
Serik sat apart from them all.
Or rather, he was half sprawled across one of the chairs near the far wall, one arm slung over his eyes to block out the world.
A cluster of empty glasses sat abandoned beside him. He had drunk far more than usual tonight to dull the constant pressure crushing his chest.
Tomorrow, he and Alaric were expected to join the imperial delegation escorting the princess beyond the capital.
Under normal circumstances, Serik would have already retired to prepare for the journey.
Gradually, the room around him blurred into distant noise, and exhaustion began dragging him toward sleep.
Then, the chamber doors burst open.
Several young noblemen stumbled inside, their voices sharp with alcohol-fueled irritation.
Cedric entered first, looking thoroughly exhausted. Behind him came Julian Vance, still fuming from an earlier humiliation.
"I have told you repeatedly to control your mouth," Cedric muttered, shutting the door behind them.
"I only suggested asking Lady Rysa for a dance. If she refused, you should have left it there."
Julian scoffed bitterly. "That harlot interfered before I even had the chance."
Behind his folded arm, Serik's eyes remained closed, but the muscles in his jaw tightened.
Cedric immediately lowered his voice. "Do not call her that, Julian. You are asking for trouble."
"What trouble?" Julian laughed coldly.
"Because she is Lethia Lorvil? I am certain even the duke merely tolerates her presence. Why else would a woman like that remain unmarried for this long?"
The name cut sharply through Serik's hazy thoughts.
Sleep vanished instantly.
Julian continued to sneer, utterly blind to the sudden, suffocating silence settling over the room.
"Who would willingly want damaged goods? God knows how many filthy bastards have been inside her before they tossed her back... "
A violent crash shattered the room.
Before Julian could finish his sentence, a brutal force slammed into the back of his legs. He hit the floor hard, his wine glass shattering beneath him as dark liquor exploded across the marble.
The entire chamber froze.
Serik stood over him.
The dim candlelight caught the edges of his disheveled blond hair and the terrifying, hollow expression on his face. For one awful moment, nobody moved.
Serik looked genuinely monstrous.
"Wha... " Julian stammered, staring up in shock as he struggled to rise.
Serik grabbed him by the collar before he could find his footing. The movement was so sudden, so feral, that several noblemen physically recoiled.
"Julian!" Cedric stepped forward, panic flashing across his face.
He was too late.
The first punch landed with a sickening crack, snapping Julian's head sideways. The second sent a spray of blood across the white marble.
And by the third, everyone in the chamber realized this was no ordinary drunken brawl.
Serik's fist crashed into Julian again, obliterating whatever remained of the room's fragile decorum.
"Serik, stop!" Cedric shouted, lunging forward to grab his shoulder.
Two other noblemen jolted into motion, throwing themselves into the fray in a desperate attempt to drag the Sidereon heir away.
But Serik was beyond reason.
He drove backward with enough force to slam Cedric into a heavy oak side table, splintering it beneath the impact. A wild elbow caught another lord squarely in the jaw, sending him reeling.
Julian, coughing violently and spitting blood onto the marble, seized the momentary distraction to scramble backward like a wounded animal. Terror overtook drunken arrogance as he hurled himself toward the chamber doors.
He barely made it five steps into the western corridor before Serik broke free and tackled him from behind.
The two men crashed hard against the polished marble floor.
The sound echoed thunderously through the corridor—the heavy slam of bodies, the shattering of a porcelain vase knocked from its pedestal, Julian's choked screams for help.
This was no longer hidden.
The western corridor connected directly to the grand ballroom, one of the palace's busiest arteries. Within seconds, doors swung open and hurried footsteps flooded the halls.
Serik noticed none of it.
Not the palace guards rushing toward them.
Not Killian sprinting ahead of the guards with horror written plainly across his face.
Not the growing crowd gathering in stunned disbelief.
He saw only Julian, who had dragged Lethia's name through filth.
Serik pinned him to the floor and drove another punch into his face.
By the time Lethia arrived, a crowd had already formed.
Nobles clustered together in alarm while servants whispered anxiously at the edges, struggling to glimpse the center of the chaos.
Pushing through the gathering, she finally saw him.
***
A bloody grin twisted across his face.
"How pathetic, Serik," he sneered loudly, making certain every nearby noble heard him clearly. "You are willing to spill blood over a ruined woman. "
The corridor went still.
Julian's eyes slid toward Lethia with deliberate cruelty.
"I wonder," he continued viciously,"if she'll be as loud and tight for you as she was for the bandits who took her, or if you'll just have to settle for the scraps they left behind."
Those words struck Lethia like a poison, for a moment she heard nothing else.
Not the horrified gasps surrounding them.
Not Killian's sharp curse.
Not even the furious movement of Serik struggling against restraint.
Only those words.
Those same disgusting accusations she had heard for years.
Ruined.
Used.
Defiled.
None of it was new.
People had carved such words into her long ago, until eventually they had become little more than background noise... distant, dull, meaningless.
She had learned to stand through it all with her chin raised and her expression untouched.
So why...
Why did it hurt now?
Ah. The realization tore through her, bitter and cruel. It's because he is here.
It happend before Serik and somehow that made the humiliation feel sharper than it ever had before.
Is this why you never want to suffer in front of the people you love?
Lethia felt her nails dig painfully into her palms beneath the folds of her sleeves.
Her chest tightened so violently it almost became difficult to breathe.
She felt something inside her split open in a way she did not know how to stop.
For the first time in years, she wanted to disappear.