Why oh why did I say that to Cecilia?

I must admit it was fun watching her lose her composure, but was it worth it? Maybe I went too far. I even told her to get together with Tristan! Will she think I know about them? I let out an exasperated sigh as I toss and turn on the bed, my mind in a frenzy. Unable to sit still any longer, I jump up and start pacing back and forth across the room, racking my brain for a solution. If I don’t announce the engagement tonight, Cecilia and Tristan will know I was bluffing. What should I do, just tell them I was joking? What would prevent them from demanding that I marry that idiot Tristan?

Barely an hour had gone by since I returned from Cecilia's place when a knock at the door interrupts my worrying. I open it without thinking, assuming it must be Lily, but instead, I find Tristan on the other side of the door. His face is flushed, his brow furrowed, and sweat glistens on his forehead as if he rushed here. His piercing grey eyes glare at me with a mixture of anger and something else I can't quite decipher.

"Tristan," I gasp, trying to close the door immediately, but the knight wedges his foot in before it closes. He pushes his way inside with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Hello, Seraphina," he says as he surveys my chambers. I realize he wanted to find me alone.

"What are you doing here? Get out," I demand, barely containing my frustration. But he doesn’t listen. His face twisted in fury, he slams the door shut behind him.

"Seraphina," he growls, "what you and Alexander did to me the other night was unforgivable. How could you do this to me?!"

"I don’t want to see you, Tristan," I start, my voice wavering slightly, "You need to leave, now!" I shout.

He steps closer, his grey eyes narrowing as he looks down at me. My heart races in my chest, and for the first time since my rebirth, I feel a flicker of true fear.

I strategically back away from him so I can get close to my desk. My hands tremble as I grip the letter opener, tucking it behind my back just in case.

Tristan's boots thud against the stone floor, quickening my pulse with each step. He moves so quickly that I stumble, my bare feet sliding on the marble floors of my chamber. Before I can catch myself, my back hits the cold stone wall and he takes the chance to tower over me. I’m trapped.

"However, my dear Seraphina," he says, a twisted smile playing on his lips, "I'm willing to forgive you."

"Didn't you say what I did was unforgivable?" I retort, trying to sound mocking despite the fear clawing at my insides.

"Ha, since when are you funny?" Tristan sneers. His movements are calculated as he traps me between his arms, leaving me with no escape. The scent of wine clings to his breath, making my stomach turn. I squeeze the letter opener tighter, feeling its cold metal press into my skin.

"You love ME, you understand?" Tristan snarls, his face mere inches from mine. "You don’t love that dragon freak, you love ME!" He pauses for a moment before continuing, his tone threatening. "I don’t know what got into you, but it stops now. Break up with that pathetic excuse of a man, Alexander,” he commands, his voice full of contempt. “Tonight, you will declare your engagement to me," he says coldly.

“What?!” I cry out. Did he seriously believe he could get away with asking me THAT? Oh, the nerve!

My heart pounds in my chest, but I refuse to let him bully me. With all the strength I can muster, I push him away, my hand flat against his chest. "There's no way I'll do that, pal," I snap. "For the last time: Leave-me-alone!” I spell out, marking my every word with a pointing finger I bury into his chest. “You lost, accept it."

Anger flashes in his eyes, but I don't give him a chance to respond. I march over to the door, yanking it open and gesturing for him to leave. He slowly reaches out and closes the door, a creepy smile spreading across his face.

He turns to face me, and it’s like a different person has taken over his body. “You don’t want anyone to hear what I’m about to tell you,” he says calmly, grabbing my chin with his clammy hands.

"Listen carefully, Seraphina," Tristan hisses, leaning in close. "If you don't do as I ordered, I'll destroy you."

I step back, my heart thumping in my ribcage. "What do you mean?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Tristan's laughter sends a shiver down my spine; it's a maniacal sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. His eyes gleam with madness, and his body language screams danger. "I'll tell everyone we were involved," he says, venom oozing from every word. "You'll look like a whore if you don't marry me."

My hand itches to slap him, but I contain myself. He continues speaking as he grabs my wrist, tightening his grip just enough to make me wince. "I'll tell everyone we slept together."

"What?" I say, my mind racing. According to Seraphina's diaries, they only held hands and kissed a few times. Seraphina wouldn’t have gone further. Furious, I glare at him. "That's not true! We just kissed!"

"Ah," Tristan smirks, an evil expression on his face as he twists my wrist, his breath hot against my ear. "But they don't know that, do they?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

A chill of fear sweeps down my spine. Tristan continues, his voice low and menacing. "I even have your letters. I'm not afraid to use them. Hell, I'll even have someone write fake ones if I need to."

My thoughts drift to the letter opener hidden behind my back. Stabbing him would be easy, a swift motion aimed at his neck, but I quickly dismiss the idea. Instead, I focus on trying to threaten him. "You wouldn't dare," I growl. "If you get involved in a scandal, you’ll never be promoted."

His laugh rings out again, a hollow sound that fills the room. "Scandal?" he scoffs, shaking his head. "The scandal will be yours, my dear Seraphina. A man having his fun before marriage is expected. A woman, however..." His words hang in the air like an ominous cloud.

Shit. He’s right.

Tristan's eyes gleam maliciously in the dim light of the room, knowing his words found their mark. "And that’s not even considering your standing! It'll be the end of you.” He lets go of my wrist, and I rub it, trying to erase the sting of his touch.

“Sure, it was difficult to marry you off before, considering you’re… defective,” he huffs. That was a low blow. Seraphina was quite upset about her inability to use magic. “Now? Impossible,” he continues, smoothening his hair as if he’s bored of the conversation already.

I shiver, realizing he is correct. My virginity holds great value as a noblewoman. In my past life as a commoner, it held little significance, especially since I was never expected to marry.

“I’ll tell you what will happen,” Tristan continues, fixing the wrinkles on his clothes. “King Benedict will expel you from the Royal Family and you’ll have to spend the rest of your days as a priestess, locked in a tower, rotting somewhere far away…”

I grit my teeth, clenching my fists at my sides. "You wouldn't... You couldn't..." I stammer, but he cuts me off with an arrogant laugh.

"Oh, Seraphina," he murmurs, leaning close again. The stench of wine and sweat fills my nostrils. "You really don't know me at all, do you?" His smug grin cuts into me like a knife. “Marry me. Or your life is over.”

Clenching my jaw, I square my shoulders and fix Tristan with a steely gaze. “You… You coward… If you do that, I swear I’ll kill you!” I shout, stomping my feet.

"Aw," Tristan coos mockingly. "You're so cute when you're angry." He laughs at my futile attempt to intimidate him, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

It's painfully clear he's not scared of me. Of course this stupid, soft, adorable body doesn’t scare him! What was I thinking?

I whip my head to the side, avoiding his gaze. My face heats up with embarrassment as Tristan strides towards the door, gracefully turning the doorknob.

"See you tonight, darling," he replies with a smug grin before finally shutting the door behind him.

I throw the letter opener at the door with a frustrated scream, and it nails to the wood with a satisfying thunk. Yanking it free, I storm back to my desk, my anger boiling over. Shit. I'm screwed. Totally, completely screwed.

I examine the blade of the letter opener, briefly considering its potential as a weapon. Should I kill them? No, I can't... I won't. I long to see them humiliated in public, exposed as the snakes they are for what they did to poor Seraphina. I won't grant them the satisfaction of a quick death. They'll suffer, and I'll watch them get what they deserve.

But how can I do that? I've never been in the sort of situation that can't be solved with a swift kick to the throat or a well-placed dagger. Sitting at my desk, I rack my brain for a plan, something to outwit Tristan and Cecilia. I have to beat them at their game. As I stand up, a flicker of an idea begins to form.

If I'm to survive this, I'll need to be as cunning and ruthless as they are. Do whatever it takes. And then I remember... "If you ever need anything, you can count on me," Hartley said. Damn. I don't want to do it, but it might be what I need... Yes, Hartley is my only option now. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the enemy of my enemy might just have to be my fiancé.

With newfound determination, I stride towards my gigantic armoire and start going through my dresses, looking for an outfit that's not frilly, not white, not pink. Something that screams power, something that would make people take me seriously. What if I convince Prince Alexander to fake being engaged to me, just for a bit? Despite my strong distaste for the idea of even being near him, it could potentially be my best chance…

"Urg, all these dresses suck!" I exclaim, my frustration seeping into my voice. Determined to find the perfect outfit, I throw open the door and call out for Lily.

"Your Highness?" Lily asks as she rushes in, concern etched across her face.

"I need a dress that means serious business, Lily," I tell her, my tone firm. "I have something important to do, but I need to look the part. Can I trust you with it?"

"Of course, Your Highness," she replies, trying to hide her surprise. "Leave it to me."

While Lily begins her work, I pace around the room, my plan becoming more and more concrete in my mind. A fake engagement to the Prince of Ironhold would serve multiple purposes: avoiding (and annoying) Tristan, while also allowing me to get closer to Lady Clarissa from Ironhold. She’s a member of Prince Alexander's Court, and they seemed acquainted. I need to learn her true intentions and her relationship with Duke Sinclair. What connection do they have to my last mission and my downfall as Raven? If it was indeed the Duke who orchestrated my death, I must uncover his motives and make him pay.

“It’s ready!” Lily announces triumphantly. She wipes the sweat off her forehead, grinning with satisfaction as she presents her latest masterpiece. I can't help but smile, impressed by her hard work and talent. Once I've dealt with my impending doom, I'll have to give her a well-deserved raise.

Later, I stand before the mirror, admiring the transformation Lily has created. The night blue dress hugs my figure, with a v-neck and pointed shoulder pads that give off an air of power and authority. Golden jewelry drapes from my neck to my waistline, accentuating the boldness of the outfit. My hair is swept up into a high updo, held in place by a spiked golden hairpiece.

"Now this screams power," I think, feeling more confident and ready for what's about to come.

"Lily," I say, turning to face her. "I need you to show me where Prince Alexander is staying and take me there."

She nearly falls off the chair.

"Your Highness, are you sure?" She mutters, her eyes wide. "Isn’t it dangerous?"

"Trust me, Lily," I reply with determination. "This is something I have to do."

"Very well, Your Highness," she says, nodding hesitantly before leading me out of the room.

As we walk through the castle corridors, my heart races with anticipation. I'm ready to play their game.

No, scratch that.

I'm ready to win.