Awakening in the Dark
The world felt wrong.
Selene Valmor jolted awake in the darkness, her chest heaving. The silk sheets of her familiar childhood bed twisted around her like the ghost of a noose.
For a terrifying moment, she didn't know if she was alive, dreaming, or still bleeding out on the executioner's block.
The heavy scent of lilacs filled the air—a cloying, suffocating perfume her younger self had once adored. Now it made her stomach churn.
She stumbled to the mirror, heart hammering.
And there she was.
Sixteen years old. Innocent. Stupid. Trusting.
Selene gripped the edge of the vanity until her knuckles whitened.
This was real.
The voice that had spoken to her in death hadn't lied.
Five years. She had five years before the scaffold.
Or less, if she made a wrong move.
"No," she whispered to the girl in the mirror.
"Not this time."
Dawn's first light crept over the Valmor estate as Selene sat at her writing desk, the cold seeping into her bones.
The Grand Hall would host a gathering today—one she knew all too well.
It would be the day Prince Damon publicly announced the strengthening of their engagement, spinning lies about destiny and love.
It would be the day Lady Amelia, smiling sweetly at Selene's side, began laying the traps that would eventually destroy her.
Selene clenched her fists.
If I let today proceed like before, the chains tighten. The path to execution begins now.
She had to act first.
But it couldn't be reckless.
Not weeping, not shrieking, not lashing out like a spoiled child.
That was what they expected.
That was the trap they had laid for her.
No — she would cut the engagement herself.
Gracefully. Publicly. And most importantly—
On her own terms.
She rang the bell for her handmaiden.
When Elena entered, curtsying deeply, Selene gave her a tight, deliberate smile.
"Prepare my simplest riding dress," she said. "Sky blue. And fetch me the gold filigree comb, the one shaped like a crescent moon."
Elena hesitated.
"My lady… isn't today the—?"
"I know what today is," Selene said sharply.
Then, softening, she added:
"Trust me, Elena. Today, I ride my own path."
The Gathering
By mid-morning, the Valmor Grand Hall buzzed with life.
Nobles glittered like peacocks in jewel-toned silks. Laughter floated on the air, sweet and poisonous. Footmen weaved between clusters of gossiping lords and ladies, trays laden with wine and sugared fruits.
And standing at the center of it all:
Prince Damon.
His golden hair caught the light like a halo. His smile was effortless, magnetic. His tailored navy doublet set off the icy blue of his eyes, the ones Selene had once believed looked at her — truly saw her.
Fool.
At his side, draped on his arm like a prize, stood Lady Amelia. Her soft pink gown, her artfully arranged curls, her demure smile—every detail screamed innocence.
Selene almost laughed.
She knew now: innocence was Amelia's most effective weapon.
A hush fell as Selene entered the hall.
Every eye turned toward her.
She let them stare.
Today, she wore no jewels except the single crescent moon comb in her hair. Her sky-blue dress flowed simply, unadorned. No desperate clinging to status, no desperate need to impress.
She was a noblewoman unafraid to strip herself bare.
Damon's smile flickered for the briefest moment as Selene approached.
He hadn't expected her to come.
Good.
She curtsied perfectly, but not too low.
"Your Highness," she said, her voice carrying clearly through the hall. "Lady Amelia."
"Selene," Damon said, masking his surprise with a dazzling grin. "You're looking radiant today."
Selene allowed herself a polite, empty smile.
"Thank you, Your Highness. I came because I wished to speak with you. Privately, if I may."
Murmurs rippled through the room.
Damon's gaze sharpened.
Behind him, Amelia's hand tightened on his sleeve.
Selene saw it.
Good.
"Of course," Damon said smoothly, offering his arm.
She took it lightly, as if it meant nothing.
Because now, it did.
The Break
They moved to a small side chamber, the door closing behind them with a soft click.
The moment they were alone, Damon dropped the courtly act.
"What are you playing at, Selene?" he asked, voice low, sharp with warning. "This isn't the time for dramatics."
Selene turned to face him fully.
"No," she agreed. "It's the time for honesty."
He frowned, caught off-guard.
She pressed forward, each word measured, each step deliberate.
"You and I were betrothed for political convenience. It suited our families. It suited the image the Crown wished to project."
Damon opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a raised hand.
"But it no longer suits either of us, does it?"
She gave a small, knowing smile. "You have other… interests now."
Color flared in Damon's cheeks.
"If you think I'll let you humiliate me—"
"I have no intention of causing a scene," Selene interrupted smoothly. "I intend to release you. Publicly. Gracefully. In a way that preserves both our dignities."
Damon stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.
"Why?" he asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
Selene tilted her head.
"Because," she said softly, "I believe we both deserve a future free from falsehoods."
A lie, of course.
He didn't deserve freedom.
He deserved ruin.
But Selene had learned that true victory didn't come from shouting vengeance to the skies.
It came from silence.
From shadows.
From letting your enemies believe they had won—until the knife was already at their throats.
She walked across the room, ignoring the whispered conversations that followed her every step. Damon left pacing up and down in fear.
When she reached Damon, she stopped just in front of him, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
A ripple of surprise passed through the crowd. Damon's face remained composed, but Selene could see the flicker of annoyance behind his eyes.
"Now, Selene, don't be hasty," he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "We've made plans, you and I. The wedding is—"
"No," she interrupted, her tone growing firmer. "You've made plans. I've been a part of them only because I was a fool. I won't be your pawn anymore."
The room fell silent. Even Lady Amelia, who had been laughing just moments before, looked at her in shock. But Damon? He was a master of masks, and his smile returned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Do you really think this is in your best interest, Selene?" he asked, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her ears. "If you break the engagement, you'll be ruined. You'll have no place in this court."
Selene met his gaze with cold determination. "I'd rather be ruined than live a lie."
With that, she turned and went to stand in the middle of the hall, leaving Damon panicking in the middle of the room, his once-immaculate reputation is about to crack.
Selene stepped forward, her posture perfect, her smile serene.
She curtsied deeply before Damon.
"My lords and ladies," she called, her voice ringing through the chamber, "it is with a heavy but hopeful heart that I must announce a change in fortune."
A gasp ran through the crowd.
Selene met Damon's gaze briefly, giving him the signal.
He nodded stiffly.
"We have decided, mutually and amicably," Selene continued, "to dissolve the engagement between His Highness and myself."
Another gasp.
Wider now. Deeper.
Some faces twisted in shock. Others hid delighted smirks.
Selene pressed a hand to her chest, affecting just the right amount of gentle sadness.
"I have the utmost respect for His Highness," she said. "And I trust he will find happiness and a partner truly suited to the demands of his future."
Lies, lies, lies.
But necessary ones.
Damon forced a smile and extended his hand.
Selene placed hers atop it lightly.
They bowed to each other, sealing the spectacle.
It was done.
The nobles burst into whispers, a thousand theories already spinning through the air.
Selene stepped back, letting the weight of the moment settle.
Letting the court see her not as a discarded fiancée—but as a woman who chose her own fate.
And when she turned to leave, head high, she caught Lady Amelia's face—
Pale.
Tight-lipped.
Afraid.
Selene smiled.
Let them fear her.
With that she confidedntly left the hall with a smirk filled with satisfaction. Outside the hall, she took a deep breath, her heart still racing. She had done it. She had severed the first chain. But it wasn't enough. Not yet. She needed more. She needed to gather strength, find allies, and build something far greater than Damon or his royal family could ever comprehend.
Selene returned to her chambers, her mind already turning over her next move. She would need a network—people who owed her nothing, but who would help her in secret. A shadow force, working beneath the notice of those who thought themselves untouchable.The first step was complete. The game had begun.
The Quiet Threat
As Selene returned to her chambers, Elena rushed after her, breathless.
"My lady—! Was it wise to act so boldly?"
Selene closed the door behind them and leaned against it.
"Wise?" she murmured. "No. Necessary? Yes."
She moved to the window, staring out over the gardens.
Already, the rumors would spread like wildfire.
Already, enemies would shift their plans.
Good.
She needed the chaos.
It would cover her next moves.
Selene turned back to Elena, her mind whirring.
"I'll need information," she said. "Discreetly gathered. Names. Allegiances. Secrets."
Elena's eyes widened.
"My lady... are you declaring war?"
Selene smiled thinly.
"No," she said. "I'm declaring freedom."
And in freedom, there would always be blood.