Chapter 33 #2
The rest of the day passes in a fog. I attend a fitting for the ceremonial gown I'm supposed to wear at tomorrow's mysterious announcement.
Malakai didn't tell me why he is going to address the court, we haven't really talked since when I asked him about children.
I believe that he is keeping his distance from me for a reason.
The seamstresses flutter around me, oblivious to the turmoil inside my head.
Ivy finds me in the late afternoon, materializing on my window seat with her usual dramatic flair. She's wearing something gauzy and shimmering, her wings catching the fading light in prismatic patterns.
"So," she announces, examining her perfectly manicured nails, "I've decided Emmett is my new project."
Despite everything churning in my mind, I can't help but look at her. "Your what?"
"My project. You know—the brooding soldier with the tragic past and the jawline that could cut glass.
" She sighs dramatically. "He's so deliciously serious all the time.
It's like he's never had fun in his entire immortal life.
Someone needs to teach him how to smile, and I've graciously volunteered for the position. "
"Ivy, I don't think—"
"Did you know," she continues, ignoring my interruption entirely, "that when I complimented his sword yesterday, he actually blushed? Well, not blushed exactly—more like this adorable little flush creeping up his neck while he tried to maintain his stoic expression. It was precious. I nearly died."
"Emmett doesn't blush."
"He does when I tell him his tactical formations are 'devastatingly competent.'" Her grin is wicked. "I'm wearing him down, Sera. Give me another week and I'll have him smiling. Maybe even laughing. It's going to be glorious."
I should smile. Should engage in this banter the way I usually do. But the words stick in my throat, and Ivy's perceptive eyes catch the shift immediately.
Her playful expression fades, wings drooping slightly. "Okay, spill. What's wrong? And don't say nothing, because you've got that look—the one where you're thinking very hard about something terrible while pretending everything is fine."
I hesitate, but the weight of everything I've learned today presses down until I can barely breathe. "I spoke to one of the older servants. About Julia."
Ivy goes very still. "Oh."
"She told me what happened. The pattern—Julia was pregnant, his shadows became unstable and violent, she weakened, and then she died." My voice drops to barely above a whisper. "It's happening again, Ivy. The same pattern. And I don't know what to do."
For once, Ivy doesn't have a witty comeback. She moves closer, settling beside me on the window seat, her usual brightness dimmed by genuine concern.
"What are you thinking?" she asks quietly.
"I'm thinking I need space. Time to clear my head without feeling him through the bond every second, without his emotions bleeding into mine." I meet her eyes. "I need to leave for a little while. Just a day or two. Somewhere quiet where I can think."
"Like... leave the palace?"
"Yes. There's an inn in the boundary territories—somewhere quiet where I can process everything.
Julia's journal, what Mireth told me, the pregnancy, all of it.
" I stand, moving to the window. "I can't think here, Ivy.
Every corner of this place reminds me of him.
Every shadow feels like it might reach for me.
I need distance to figure out what comes next. "
Ivy is quiet for a long moment, her wings flickering with uncertainty. "He's going to panic when he realizes you're gone."
"I know. That's why I need you to cover for me." I turn to face her. "Tell him I needed some time alone. That I'm safe. That I'll be back in a day or two. Please, Ivy. I just need space to think without him tearing the realm apart looking for me."
She studies me carefully, her usually playful expression serious. "You're planning to come back? You're not... running away forever?"
"I'm coming back," I say firmly. "I just need to sort through everything in my head first. Away from the bond, away from his guilt and fear. I need to figure out if there's a way through this that doesn't end with me dead like Julia."
Ivy sighs, her hair shifting through worried shades of blue and silver. "This is a terrible idea."
"I know."
"He's going to be impossible. Emmett will probably help him tear apart the countryside looking for you."
"That's why you're going to convince them I just needed a break. That I'm overwhelmed and need space." I reach out, taking her hands. "Please, Ivy. I need this."
She squeezes my hands, her expression conflicted. "Fine. But only because I can see you're barely holding it together, and honestly, some distance might help you both think more clearly." Her wings flutter with resignation. "How long?"
"A day. Maybe two at most. Just long enough to clear my head."
"And you'll actually come back? You're not secretly planning to disappear forever while I lie to an increasingly murderous demon lord?"
"I'll come back," I promise. "I'm not abandoning him, Ivy. I'm just... I need to breathe for a moment without drowning in his emotions and my own fear."
She nods slowly. "Okay. But Sera—be careful. And if you change your mind, if things get worse or you decide you do need to run, you send a word to me immediately. Understand?"
"I understand."
"Good." Her usual mischief returns, though dimmed. "Now, when are you planning this grand escape? Because I need time to prepare my very convincing 'Lady Seraphina is fine, just overwhelmed' speech."
"Tonight. After dark, when the corridors are quiet."
Ivy groans. "Of course tonight. Why would you give me proper notice?" But despite her complaints, she's already moving toward the door. "I'll get you some supplies. And Sera? Whatever you decide out there... just make sure it's really what you want. Not what fear is telling you to want."
She disappears in a shimmer of fairy light, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the rapidly setting sun.
* * *
I wait until it's fully dark, until the palace corridors grow quiet and the servants retire for the night.
Malakai hasn't come to our chambers. I felt him through the bond — distant, troubled, pacing somewhere in the palace. His emotions have been chaotic all day. Guilt. Fear. Longing. The desperate desire to come to me warring with the terror of what might happen if he does.
He's staying away to protect me. I understand that now.
But distance didn't save Julia. And I need to figure out if anything can save me.
Ivy returned an hour ago with a small pack—warm clothes, some coin, dried fruit and bread. She didn't ask questions, just pressed it into my hands with a fierce hug.
"Two days," she'd whispered. "Then I'm coming to find you myself if you're not back."
Now I move through the corridors with an assassin's silence, avoiding the few guards still on patrol. The training from my childhood resurfaces easily—how to move through shadows, how to make myself invisible even in plain sight.
The stables are quiet when I reach them. I find a sturdy mare, not one of the shadow steeds but a regular horse that won't draw attention. As I'm saddling her with fumbling fingers, a soft sound makes me freeze.
A young stable hand—a boy no more than sixteen—peeks out from one of the stalls, hay in his hair like he'd been sleeping.
"My lady?" He looks confused, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Do you need help?"
"I'm just... taking a ride," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "I couldn't sleep."
He blinks at me, clearly uncertain, but well-trained enough not to question the Lady of Shadows. "Should I wake someone? An escort? It's not safe to ride alone at night—"
"No. No escorts." I finish tightening the saddle, my hands shaking slightly. "I just need some air. I won't be long."
The boy hesitates, clearly torn between duty and deference. Finally, he nods. "The eastern gate, my lady. The guards are changing shifts right now—there's a few minutes where no one's posted. If you want to... avoid questions."
I meet his eyes, surprised. He flushes.
"I'm not supposed to know the guard rotations, but..." He shrugs. "Sometimes it's useful."
"Thank you," I say quietly.
He helps me lead the mare out, and I slip through the eastern gate just as he said—in the brief window between one guard leaving and another arriving.
The night air is cold, sharp against my face as I mount and urge the horse forward into the darkness.
Through the bond, I feel Malakai stir—some unconscious awareness that I'm moving, that something is changing. But he doesn't wake, doesn't realize yet what I'm doing.
I'm sorry, I think, hoping some echo reaches him. I love you. But I need to think without drowning in your fear and mine.
The mare breaks into a canter, carrying me away from the palace, away from Malakai, into the darkness of the boundary territories.
Behind me, the bond stretches but doesn't break. I can still feel him—distant but present, a constant hum at the back of my consciousness.
For now, that's enough.
* * *
Hours pass in cold darkness. The boundary territories unfold around me—twisted trees with silver bark, frost glittering on everything like scattered diamonds. I'm grateful for the warm cloak Ivy packed, though the cold still seeps through eventually.
The mare is steady beneath me, unbothered by the strange landscape. Unlike the shadow steeds, she doesn't belong to anyone but herself, and there's something comforting in that independence.
Dawn threatens the horizon when I finally see lights ahead—a village, small but welcoming. Smoke rises from chimneys, and I can smell bread baking even from a distance.
The inn is exactly what I need—warm, quiet, anonymous. I stable the mare and enter, drawing a few curious glances but nothing more. Boundary dwellers are used to strangers passing through.