"Drop the letter, Sera. Now."
Nora’s voice didn't scream, but it had that edge—the kind that makes your skin crawl because you know she’s already decided how she’s going to break you. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, her golden aura shimmering just enough to remind me that she could flatten me into the floorboards without blinking.
I didn't drop it. I gripped the parchment tighter, the ink from Kaelen’s secret note smudging against my thumb. "Since when do you check your assistant's mail?"
"Since you became my assistant," Nora stepped forward. The air in the room suddenly felt thick, like I was breathing underwater. "And since you're wearing my cuffs. Which, by the way, tell me exactly how fast your heart is beating right now. It's practically drumming a war march. Who's the letter from?"
I backed away, my heels clicking against the marble. "None of your business."
In a blur of gold and white, she was there. Her hand clamped around my wrist—the one with the inhibitor cuff—and slammed it against the wall. The impact wasn't enough to break bone, but it was enough to make me gasp. She didn't let go. Instead, she leaned in, her chest nearly brushing mine, her scent—something like ozone and expensive lilies—filling my head.
"Everything about you is my business," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "You're a rogue hunter who tried to blackmail the most powerful woman in Solis. You're lucky I'm using you as a toy instead of throwing you in the Void. Give. Me. The. Note."
I glared up at her, my teeth gritted. "You're a fraud, Nora. Everyone sees the 'Golden Girl,' but I see the shadow. You're terrified someone's going to find out you're just a parasite in a pretty dress."
Nora’s eyes darkened. For a second, the gold flickered, and a sliver of something ink-black bled through her iris. She didn't pull away. She pressed closer, her thigh sliding between mine, pinning me firmly against the cold stone. The power imbalance was suffocating, and yet, there was this electric, disgusting spark of tension that made my stomach flip.
"And yet," she murmured, her gaze dropping to my lips, "here you are. Trembling in my arms. Tell me, Sera, is it fear? Or are you actually enjoying being owned?"
"In your dreams," I spat, though my voice lacked the bite I wanted.
She chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. She didn't take the note by force—not yet. Instead, she reached up with her free hand and traced the line of my jaw with a single finger. The touch was light, almost tender, which made it a thousand times more terrifying.
"We have the Gala in two hours," Nora said, stepping back just an inch, though she still held my wrist. "You're going to wear the dress I picked. You're going to smile. You're going to tell everyone how honored you are to be in my service. And if you so much as look at Kaelen or any other Archon with that rebellious little glint in your eye... I'll make sure those cuffs become permanent."
"I hate you," I whispered.
"Good," she smirked, finally releasing me. "Hate is honest. It's much more useful than the fake love everyone else gives me. Now get dressed. The car leaves at seven."
***
Two hours later, I felt like a gilded doll. The dress was a shimmering, pale gold silk that clung to every curve, designed to make me look like a subordinate ornament to Nora’s blinding radiance. The inhibitor cuffs were hidden under long, lace gloves, but I could still feel them humming against my skin—a constant, vibrating reminder that I was on a leash.
Nora looked... unfair. She wore a gown that seemed to be woven from sunlight itself, her hair pinned back with diamonds that probably cost more than my entire hometown. As we stepped out of the limousine and into the blinding flashes of the Solis High Gala, she didn't just take my arm. She gripped it, pulling me flush against her side.
"Smile, sweetheart," she hissed through a perfect, porcelain grin. "The cameras are watching."
"I'm going to vomit," I muttered, my face plastered in a fake expression of admiration.
"Do it in the restroom. Not on my shoes," she replied, her voice sweet as honey for the crowd.
We moved through the ballroom like a single unit—the Hero and her shadow. Every few steps, a noble or a minor deity would stop us, showering Nora with praise. I stood half a step behind her, the 'loyal assistant,' catching the jealous glares of the other women and the hungry looks of the men.
Nora played the part perfectly. She would occasionally lean back, whispering something in my ear that sounded intimate to the onlookers, but was actually a series of threats.
"Stop slouching," she whispered, her hand sliding down to the small of my back, pressing firmly. "You're representing me. Act like you aren't plotting my murder for five minutes."
"Hard to do when you're basically rubbing your hand on me in public," I retorted, leaning into her just enough to make it look like a secret. "Does this part of the act help you sleep at night? Pretending you actually have a heart?"
Nora paused, her fingers tightening on my waist. For a split second, the mask slipped. I saw a flash of something—not anger, but a raw, jagged loneliness that mirrored my own. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by that cold, dominant smirk.
"I don't need sleep, Sera. I have power. And right now, I have you."
We reached the center of the room just as High Archon Kaelen approached. He looked every bit the holy statesman, his white robes flowing, a soft, benevolent smile on his face. But as his eyes met mine, there was a flicker of urgency. He knew about the note. He knew I was in trouble.
Nora sensed it immediately. She shifted, physically blocking my line of sight to Kaelen, her body acting as a shield.
"Archon Kaelen," Nora greeted, her voice ringing with artificial warmth. "I see you've finally decided to join us."
"Nora, always the center of attention," Kaelen replied, his voice smooth. He tried to glance past her toward me. "And this must be your new assistant. A pleasure to meet you, Miss..."
"Sera," Nora answered for me, her grip on my waist becoming possessive, almost bruising. "Sera is very shy. She's still adjusting to the... intensity of my household."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip the lace gloves off and punch the smug look off Nora's face. I tried to step around her, but she pulled me back with a sharp jerk, her nails digging into the silk of my dress.
"Is that so?" Kaelen asked, his eyes narrowing. "She looks more like someone who's been through a war than a household adjustment."
"She's a rogue, Kaelen. I'm simply refining her," Nora said, her tone dropping an octave. The air around us began to vibrate. The tension was so thick I could taste it—metallic and sharp.
Just as I opened my mouth to say something—anything to get Kaelen's attention—the heavy oak doors of the ballroom slammed open.
The music stopped. The laughter died.
A man walked in, wearing the scarred leather armor of a Deep-Wilds Hunter. He looked out of place in the sea of gold and silk, covered in dust and dried blood. He didn't look at the Archons. He didn't look at the Hero.
He scanned the room with a predatory intensity until his eyes locked onto mine. He didn't hesitate, walking straight through the crowd, pushing aside a shocked Duchess without a word.
"Sera!"
He shouted my name, his voice booming through the silent hall.
Nora stiffened beside me, her entire body turning into a pillar of ice. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. I didn't know this man, but he looked at me like he held my life in his hands.
He reached into his vest and pulled out a small, jagged piece of black crystal. It pulsed with a rhythmic, oily light—the unmistakable signature of forbidden shadow magic.
"I found it!" the hunter yelled, holding the crystal high for the entire room to see. "I found the proof of what the Golden Girl is hiding!"
Nora’s hand flew to my wrist, her grip so tight it nearly crushed the bone. She didn't look at the hunter. She looked at me, her eyes wide with a sudden, genuine panic.
"Who the hell is that?" she hissed, her voice trembling for the first time since I'd known her.