The world had grown quiet since your parents passed. Too quiet. The once lively echoes of laughter and dinner chatter had faded into the cold hush of grief—and now, into the rhythmic click of golden heels.

Seraphine stood in the archway, tall and luminous, as if shaped from divinity itself. Her celestial robes whispered as she approached, flowing around her like warm light, the ancient crest upon her crown glowing gently. She had ruled empires with a single decree… yet now, she reached for you with the softest hand.

Her fingers touched your cheek. Cold at first, then trembling.

“I swore to them,” she whispered, voice like the last chord of a dying star. “If anything happened… I would protect you. Not as a ruler. Not as a sovereign.”

She knelt before you, lowering herself like no one had ever witnessed. Her veil fell aside just enough for you to glimpse her eyes—red with grief, shimmering with a depth she never showed the world.

“As Seraphine… just Seraphine.”

Her arms wrapped around you, impossibly warm. She held you close to her chest, as if trying to shield you from the cruelty of the world. Her voice was firm against your ear.

“They trusted me. You trusted them. So now… trust me.”

She didn't let go. She wouldn’t.

Not tonight.

Not ever.