Chapter 9
After that day, Alaric abandoned everything in the capital and moved into the small cottage just across from ours.
He kept sending over things I used to love–candied fruits, little gifts from the city–but Ashen tossed them all right back out the window without a second glance.
Alaric lingered around us day after day, never far from me or the children, until I couldn’t bear the sight of him anymore.
If he wouldn’t leave… then we would.
“We should go back. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my little brother.”
“Whatever you want,” Ashen said without hesitation.
Less than an hour later, our things were packed, and we were on the road.
The hills were quiet as we arrived.
I knelt before my brother’s grave, the old headstone now surrounded by wild daisies and a few tufts of foxtail grass, swaying gently as if greeting me.
Tears blurred my vision… and for a moment, I saw him as he’d been in his youth–shy, with that soft smile only he had for me.
I wiped the stone clean with trembling hands, voice thick with grief. “I’m sorry I took so long. I… should’ve come sooner.”
“If you’re angry with me, just… shake the grass a little. Let me know.”
I never believed in ghosts or omens.
But right then, I held my breath, barely daring to move.
There was no wind.
And yet the foxtail grass swayed.
Tears came hard and fast, soaking my cheeks.
I talked to him for what felt like hours, telling him everything. When I was done, I brought the twins forward and watched as they laid the flowers down in silence.
“This is your uncle,” I whispered to them.
From behind us came the sound of hooves pounding the ground.
Alaric had found us. Again.
And of all places–he had to appear at my brother’s grave.
“Seraphina!” he called, leaping off the horse and running toward me, arms open.
But Ashen drew his blade, stepping between us, eyes cold.
When Alaric saw I wasn’t beside Ashen, he lost it.
His eyes went wild. Panic, then rage. Despair.
He couldn’t take the pain of losing me again.
Get out!” I shouted, shoulders shaking with fury. “Leave! Now!”
“Alaric Thorne, you have no right to be here! You’re not even worthy of standing near my brother’s resting place. Don’t you dare taint his path to peace!”
My voice rang out with such raw hatred it brought him to a halt.
Chapter 9
The smile frozen on his lips fell away. What replaced it was a lifeless gray in his eyes–dead, hollow.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s all my fault. But Seraphina… please, don’t leave me again.”
“I’ve sent people every year to care for his grave, to-”
“Shut up!” I turned on him, cutting him off, the pain boiling over. “Don’t you dare say his name!”
Three years‘ worth of agony poured from my chest.
“You think I could forget what you did? You forced me to lose three children. You pretended not to hear when they beat me with a cane. You-”
I choked, my voice breaking.
“You murdered my brother with your own hands! Every single morning I opened my eyes, the first thing I felt was hatred for you!”
Alaric stumbled back a step like I’d slapped him across the face.
He had never seen me like this before.
The girl he once knew–the one who smiled, who loved eyes.
was long gone. Replaced by this woman with nothing but vengeance in her
“Seraphina… I’m begging you-”
He reached out, but his hand stopped midair.
“Just give me a chance to make it right…”
“You want a chance?” I hissed, pointing toward the grave. “Then go die!”
“That’s right–go die in front of him! Use your death to pay for what you did!”
He flinched.
“Why wasn’t it you in that coffin?” I spat. “Why him? All he ever wanted was to take his sister home. To fight for justice.”
“If you weren’t the regent–if you didn’t hold all the power–I would’ve killed you myself without hesitation.”
There was no warmth in my eyes. No forgiveness.
Just ice.
And that alone cut deeper than any blade.
Alaric stared at me, something unreadable flickering across his face. Something final. “If…” he said softly, voice barely above the wind, “If I died–would that ease your pain?“. A single tear fell from his chin and landed on the grass.
“Then go,” I said. “Right here. Die in front of him. Maybe then, maybe, he’ll forgive you.”
Alaric gave a hollow laugh, one full of self–loathing. “So you really do hate me that much.”
“Hate doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
The love we once shared had turned us both into strangers.
Aturned away, climbed into the carriage with the children, and left him standing in the dirt, alone with nothing but the grave and his guilt.
He didn’t follow.
He sank before the headstone, fingers grazing the cold marble like it might forgive him.
Chapter 9
Books.
Three years ago, my brother died because of him.
Alaric had believed if he suffered long enough, if he bled enough, maybe I’d return.
But all I had left for him was hate.
“You were always just out of reach,” he murmured. “And now… I’ve lost you for good.”
He drew the dagger from his belt, slowly, deliberately, and brought it to his throat.
Warm blood spilled down his neck, soaking the foxtail grass red.
As his vision dimmed, he imagined me in a wedding dress, walking toward him with that same radiant smile from years ago.
He reached out, but–just like that day on the cliff–he couldn’t catch me.
When word of Alaric Thorne’s death reached me, I froze, pen stilling in my hand.
Then I poured a cup of wine and raised it toward the horizon.
“Elias,” I whispered, “the man who killed you is finally gone.”
“And I… will live well, just like you wanted.”
