Seraphina’s eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t pull away. The world around us seemed to fade for a brief moment, leaving just the two of us in that fragile, stolen moment. But then, reality came crashing back.

A sharp gasp cut through the air, followed by a sudden, forceful shove. I stumbled back, breaking the kiss, and found myself face-to-face with an enraged Elara. Her eyes blazed with fury, and she stepped between Seraphina and me, her stance protective, her movements sharp.

“How dare you!” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. “You have no right to touch her like that!”

I raised my hands, palms up, trying to calm her down. “Elara, listen—”

“Save it.” Her glare cut through my words. “Lady Seraphina is not yours to claim. An arranged marriage doesn't give you permission to force your affections on her.”

Still visibly shaken from the kiss, Seraphina gently placed a hand on Elara’s arm. “Elara, please,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s alright.”

Elara turned to her, her expression softening just a fraction, but her voice was still taut. “My lady, you don’t have to endure this. You deserve better than... this.”

Seraphina's eyes flickered toward me, confusion clouding her usually composed demeanour. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she swallowed hard, a slight tremor in her hand as she lowered it from Elara’s arm. “I know,” she finally said, her gaze meeting mine, a mixture of uncertainty and something else—something I couldn’t quite place. “But we must find a way to make this work. Our future depends on it.”

Elara’s eyes flashed with a renewed hardness as she turned back to me, her voice cold. “If you ever try something like that again, Baron Alexander, you’ll answer to me. Understood?”

I nodded, feeling the weight of her words press down on me. “I understand. It won’t happen again.”

But as I watched them walk away, Seraphina’s steps were slower than usual, her head tilted slightly downward. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end. She hadn’t pushed me away—whether out of shock or something deeper, I didn’t know. Not yet, at least.

A faint chuckle escaped me at the absurdity of it all. Whatever this was between Seraphina and me, it was far from simple. But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. I reminded myself of the next step. The spaceport. Now that they were gone, I needed to act fast.

***

Elara muttered under her breath, her words barely audible as her boots clicked sharply against the stone floor of the corridor. The cold walls of the Draven house seemed to absorb the sound, yet Seraphina's focus was elsewhere—on the warmth still lingering on her lips. She touched them lightly, her fingers brushing the delicate skin as if trying to preserve the fleeting sensation of Alexander’s kiss. Her heart fluttered, caught between confusion and something deeper she couldn’t quite grasp. How should she feel about it? The kiss had surprised her, but she wasn’t entirely sure whether that surprise was good or bad. Was it fear that had frozen her? Or something else—a whisper of curiosity, of something that made her heart beat faster despite herself?

They continued down the long, dimly lit hallway, the ornate sconces casting flickering shadows along the marble floor. Seraphina’s mind wandered back to the day before, replaying her father’s visit to the estate like a scene from a play she couldn’t escape. He had come unannounced, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility and family duty. His eyes, colder than usual, never wavered as he spoke of honour, duty, and expectations—words that had been drilled into her since childhood.

At first, she pushed back, demanding to know what he wasn’t telling her. His stern gaze finally faltered when he admitted she was to be engaged, and the announcement would come the next day. She remembered the tightness in her chest, the way her breath had caught in her throat. When she asked whom, his answer was even worse than she could have imagined: the Draven house.

The name alone had been enough to ignite a flame of dread in her heart. Seraphina had immediately set Elara to investigate. What they found was far from reassuring. They both had assumed the engagement was to Cedric Draven, the eldest son of the house. Elara’s research had only deepened Seraphina's unease.

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Cedric had a reputation, and none of it was good. Cruel, sadistic, and driven by his own twisted desires, he was a manipulator who thrived on the misery of others. Elara’s protectiveness grew with every piece of information she uncovered. Seraphina had completely trusted her judgment, leaning on Elara’s quiet strength through the ordeal. It was one of the few things she could count on.

“Elara,” Seraphina said, breaking the tense silence. “What do you make of Alexander?”

Elara spun on her heel, her eyes flashing with the remnants of her earlier fury. "He kissed you, Sera," Elara said, her voice taut. "Without permission. Do you think that’s a sign of kindness? He is no better than the one we thought you would be married to. Just like Cedric! You haven’t even been courted for a day, and he dared.”

Seraphina blinked, taken aback by the venom in Elara’s tone. The intensity of her anger caught her off guard. Elara had always been protective, but this felt different—almost personal. What was it about Alexander that had provoked such a fierce reaction?

She remained silent, her mind circling back to the kiss. Alexander had been impulsive, reckless even. But there had been something in his eyes, something raw and desperate that set him apart from the cold calculation she had seen in men like Cedric. Was he like Cedric?

Seraphina wasn’t sure. And that uncertainty, perhaps, troubled her most of all.

Seraphina followed Elara in silence, her thoughts swirling in a whirlwind of uncertainty. The gardens around them were quiet, though the distant hum of the spaceport engines echoed faintly, a reminder of the cold reality awaiting her. The evening light bathed the stone pathways in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly before her.

She touched her lips again, unable to shake the feeling of Alexander’s kiss. It lingered, not just in sensation but in her mind, pulling her back to the moment. She had expected coldness calculation from her arranged marriage, yet Alexander’s kiss had been... impulsive. Genuine, perhaps? The surprise of it still left her unsure. Elara’s words, though protective, gnawed at her. ‘Is he truly like Cedric? Or was there something different in his touch?’

Elara’s voice snapped her back to the present. “Seraphina, do you truly want my opinion?” She had stopped, her expression unreadable.

Seraphina hesitated, still grasping for her own feelings. “Yes, Elara, I need to know.”

Her friend’s eyes softened, but her tone remained sharp. “Alexander is no different. He might have some measure of charm, but his actions speak louder. He kissed you without your consent—what does that tell you?”

Before Seraphina could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Seraphina,” Lady Isolde’s voice was firm but kind as she approached from the arched entrance to the inner gardens. Her mother moved with grace, as always, her dark hair pulled into an elegant knot, and her gaze rested lovingly on her daughter. But the company she brought sent a shiver through Seraphina’s core.

Lord Dedric walked at their mother’s side, his military posture stiff, face etched with a permanent frown of disapproval. His broad shoulders seemed to carry the weight of his family’s expectations, and his eyes, though caring, were cold with practicality. Behind him strode Lady Elara Valtor, the family socialite, her beautiful features marred by a look of calculated concern. Their father had clearly sent them.

Dedric was the first to speak, his voice as rigid as his stance. “You’re not going to screw this up, are you, Sera?”

Seraphina blinked, the warmth of her mother’s presence barely a comfort under the intensity of her brother’s tone. “I–I didn’t intend to,” she stammered, feeling the sudden pressure from all sides.

“We need this marriage,” Elara said smoothly, her tone indifferent, as though they were discussing business rather than her sister’s future. “The Dravens hold the mining contracts on Drakara, and once you’re settled in, the Valtor name could gain control of significant planetary holdings. This is bigger than just you, Sera.”

Isolde placed a gentle hand on Seraphina’s shoulder, her touch comforting but her eyes serious. “I know it’s difficult, my dear, but your father and I expect you to do your part. This alliance will elevate us.”

Seraphina clenched her hands at her sides, her heart pounding. “I understand, Mother, but—”

“There are no ‘buts,’” Dedric interrupted, his voice harsher than ever. “You’re a Valtor. Duty above all.”

Isolde nodded, her gaze softening just enough to remind Seraphina that this was still her mother, though the weight of the family’s future was ever-present in her eyes. “I know it’s not easy, Sera, but Alexander may be kinder than we expected. And you... you can make this work if you try.”

Dedric’s voice grew low, a dangerous edge creeping into his words. “Just remember, Sera. No matter what happens, you have a role to play. If you fail this family, Sera, don’t think there won’t be repercussions for a second," Dedric said coldly, his gaze piercing hers.

Elara’s soft sigh seemed to lighten the air slightly. “Look, I know it’s not what you wanted. None of us have had perfect matches. But this... this is the path set before you.”

Seraphina looked to Elara for some kind of relief, but even her sister, distant though she was, seemed to echo the same sentiment.

Torn between the weight of her family’s expectations and the echo of Alexander’s kiss, Seraphina felt a crack in her resolve. ‘Am I nothing more than a tool for the Valtor legacy?’