The forest swallowed them whole.
Seraphine's mother moved like a woman half her age, her tattered skirts whispering through the undergrowth as she led them down a path only she seemed to see. Kaelan dragged Tristan behind them, the prince's muffled curses lost beneath the crunch of leaves and the distant baying of hounds.
Pip stumbled, his face pale beneath the blood and grime. "Where are we—"
"Quiet." Lady Vaelis pressed a finger to her lips. Then, with a swiftness that belied her ragged appearance, she knelt and pried up a moss-covered stone. Beneath it yawned a black hole just wide enough for a man to crawl through.
Rook whistled low. "Well that's not ominous at all."
The scent of damp earth and something older—something metallic—wafted up from the darkness.
"Down," Lady Vaelis ordered.
Tristan dug in his heels. "You expect me to—"
Kaelan silenced him with a fist to the gut. "With pleasure."
One by one, they disappeared into the earth.
Seraphine went last.
The tunnel was narrower than it looked, the walls pressing in like a stone embrace. Her breath came too loud in the confined space, her fingers scraping against rough-hewn rock as she crawled forward. Somewhere ahead, Pip's coin flashed in the gloom as he flipped it nervously between his fingers.
Then—light.
She emerged into a cavern that stole the breath from her lungs.
Candles flickered in sconces carved from the living rock, their glow dancing across walls lined with weapons, maps, and shelves of glittering poisons. A war table dominated the center of the space, its surface littered with miniature castles and carved soldiers.
And standing at its head—
A woman in armor turned.
"Ah," said the Queen of the Thorn Court, her voice like rusted steel. "The poison bride arrives at last."
Kaelan went rigid beside her. "Mother."
The queen's smile was a blade's edge. "Hello, traitor."
Seraphine's mother stepped forward, her curtsy as elegant as if she still wore silks instead of rags. "Your Majesty."
The queen's gaze raked over Tristan. "And you brought me a gift."
Tristan paled. "Aunt Lysara?"
A heartbeat of silence.
Then—
The queen backhanded him hard enough to send him sprawling. "That's *Your Majesty* to you, bastard."
Rook choked on a laugh.
Seraphine's pulse hammered in her throat. The pieces clicked together with terrible clarity—the rebellion, the blood oath, Kaelan's exile.
This wasn't just revenge.
This was war.
And she'd just walked into its beating heart.
The queen turned those predator's eyes on her. "Tell me, Lady Vaelis—how good are you at playing the long game?"
Somewhere in the tunnels, the hounds howled.
Seraphine met her gaze without shaking . "I poisoned my own wedding gown."
For the first time, the queen looked almost pleased. "Welcome to the Thorn Court, daughter."
Behind them, Tristan laughed
It was the sound of a man who knew a secret.
And Seraphine realized with dawning horror that they'd all missed something important.
Because princes never traveled alone.
And betrayals never came singly.
The candles guttered.
A shadow moved where no shadow should be.
Then the screaming began.