I woke up on Day Ten with a sense of impending doom that had absolutely nothing to do with dark magic and everything to do with the fact that tonight was the state dinner.
The state dinner.
Where Prince Riku is being HONORED.
Where I have to sit through HOURS of diplomatic bullshit.
Where I will be in the same ROOM as him.
Where I'll have to look at his FACE.
FUCK.
"You're panicking," Nyx observed from his position coiled around my bedpost. "I can feel your heart rate from here. It's like a drum solo."
"I am NOT panicking," I said, throwing off the covers with perhaps too much force. "I'm just... strategically concerned about diplomatic protocol."
I'm PANICKING.
I'm panicking because Riku is going to be there.
And I'm going to have to be NORMAL.
And COMPOSED.
And not think about his eyes.
Or his voice.
Or that sandalwood and dark spice scent that makes my brain SHORT-CIRCUIT.
FUCK.
"You're blushing," Nyx said helpfully. "At seven in the morning. Just from THINKING about him."
"I am NOT—"
I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
I'm blushing.
I'm blushing at SEVEN IN THE MORNING just THINKING about him.
This is a DISASTER.
"I hate you," I told Nyx.
This is an ABSOLUTE DISASTER.
"You hate yourself," he corrected with that infuriating smugness. "I'm just observing the carnage."
Accurate.
Painfully, brutally accurate.
I spent the entire day in a state of barely-controlled chaos.
Training with Corvus? Distracted. Kept accidentally animating the wrong corpses.
Practicing illusion magic? Created an image of Riku's face THREE TIMES before I realized what I was doing.
MORTIFYING.
Absolutely MORTIFYING.
Curse work with Elara? Had to stop because I couldn't concentrate and nearly cursed myself AGAIN.
This is PATHETIC.
I'm a DARK MAGE.
I'm supposed to be TERRIFYING and POWERFUL.
Not... whatever THIS is.
By the time evening arrived, I was a complete mess.
Mother appeared in my doorway as I was getting dressed, looking immaculate in midnight blue silk with silver embroidery that looked like frost crystallized on fabric.
She looks like winter personified.
Cold. Beautiful. Deadly.
GOALS.
"Isabel," she said, and her tone was... amused?
Oh no.
She KNOWS.
"Yes, Mother?"
She knows I'm a DISASTER.
"The Valdris prince will be seated near our family tonight," she said, her lips curving into the faintest smile. "As a gesture of diplomatic courtesy."
NEAR our family.
NEAR ME.
OH FUCK.
OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK.
"How... diplomatic," I managed, my voice only slightly strangled.
Mother's smile widened by approximately one millimeter—which for her was basically cackling with glee.
"Indeed. I trust you'll represent House Raven appropriately."
Translation: Don't embarrass us.
Also translation: I know EXACTLY what's happening and I'm ENJOYING watching you squirm.
MOTHER.
"Of course, Mother."
She left, and I turned back to the mirror.
Deep breaths.
You can do this.
You've faced down Aldric in public.
You've learned NECROMANCY.
You can handle one dinner with a devastatingly attractive foreign prince.
WHO AM I KIDDING.
I'M GOING TO DIE.
I'm going to COMBUST.
They're going to find my charred remains at the dinner table.
The Royal Palace's grand dining hall was exactly as obscenely opulent as I remembered from the game.
Crystal chandeliers the size of CARRIAGES.
Gold leaf on EVERYTHING.
Tapestries that probably cost more than most people's HOUSES.
Subtle.
Very subtle.
The room was already filling with nobles when we arrived. I spotted Celeste near one of the windows, looking serene and terrifying in her white priestess robes.
My ally.
My terrifying dark magic nun ally.
Thank the gods.
And then I saw him.
Riku.
Standing near the head table, talking to some Astervane nobles, looking like he'd stepped out of a fever dream designed specifically to destroy my composure.
FUCK.
He's wearing BLACK.
Deep, rich black with gold embroidery that catches the light.
His hair is perfect.
His smile is DEVASTATING.
I'm going to COMBUST.
Right here.
In front of EVERYONE.
"Breathe," Nyx whispered from my shoulder. "You're turning red. People are starting to notice."
I KNOW.
I KNOW I'M TURNING RED.
SHUT UP.
I forced myself to walk calmly toward our assigned seats, keeping my expression neutral.
Neutral.
Composed.
NOT like I'm internally SCREAMING.
NOT like I'm having a complete MELTDOWN.
Mother and Father took their seats at the high table—we were positioned near the royal family because of course we were.
House Raven.
Always in the spotlight.
Always being WATCHED.
I found my namecard.
Lady Isabel Nyx Raven.
Positioned between—
OH NO.
OH FUCK NO.
To my left: an empty seat with a namecard that read Prince Riku of the Valdris Empire.
To my right: another empty seat for some minor noble I could safely ignore.
He's sitting NEXT TO ME.
He DELIBERATELY arranged to sit NEXT TO ME.
This is STRATEGIC.
This is a POWER MOVE.
This is—
"Lady Raven," a voice said behind me, warm and amused and making my spine tingle in ways that should be ILLEGAL. "What a fortunate seating arrangement."
I turned.
Riku was standing there, smiling that dangerous smile, his dark eyes gleaming with something that made my heart do a very stupid thing.
Sandalwood and dark spice.
He smells like sandalwood and dark spice.
WHY does he smell so GOOD.
Why is that ALLOWED.
And then I noticed it.
Oh.
Oh FUCK.
He was wearing an earring.
A single earring.
On his left ear—the side that would be closest to me when we sat down.
A Raven-style earring.
Silver with a small black stone.
The EXACT style that House Raven nobles wear.
He's wearing MY aesthetic.
He MATCHED me.
DELIBERATELY.
This is—
This is a STATEMENT.
This is him saying 'I see you, I understand you, I'm CLAIMING this connection.'
FUCK.
"Prince Riku," I said, and I was proud that my voice came out steady instead of the strangled squeak it wanted to be. "How... diplomatic of the palace staff."
Good.
Sarcastic.
Controlled.
He can't tell I'm DYING inside.
He can't tell I noticed the earring.
He can't—
"Diplomatic," he agreed, pulling out my chair with perfect courtly manners. "Though I may have made a small suggestion to the seating coordinator. Along with a generous donation to his favorite charity."
HE BRIBED THEM.
HE ACTUALLY BRIBED THE SEATING COORDINATOR.
HE'S ADMITTING IT.
CASUALLY.
Like it's NORMAL.
That's—
That's actually kind of impressive.
That's a POWER MOVE.
I sat down, trying to ignore the way my skin felt too warm, the way my heart was racing like I'd just run a marathon.
Compose yourself.
You're Isabel Nyx Raven.
You're a DARK MAGE.
You're TERRIFYING.
You're—
Completely losing your mind over a foreign prince who wore a matching earring.
FUCK.
Riku sat down beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
Too close.
He's sitting TOO CLOSE.
There's like six inches between us.
That's not enough space.
That's NOT ENOUGH SPACE.
I need MORE space.
I need an OCEAN between us.
"You look beautiful tonight," he said quietly, leaning slightly toward me.
STOP.
STOP LEANING.
STOP BEING SO—
I felt heat flood my cheeks.
I'm blushing.
I'm blushing AGAIN.
I HATE THIS.
I hate that he makes me blush.
I hate that I LIKE that he makes me blush.
"You're very... diplomatic tonight," I managed, reaching for my wine glass with a hand that was definitely NOT shaking.
Good deflection.
Very smooth.
He definitely can't tell I'm COMBUSTING.
Riku's smile widened, and his eyes flicked to the earring I was definitely NOT staring at.
"I'm being honest," he said. "There's a difference. I thought you appreciated honesty."
STOP.
STOP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT.
STOP BEING PERFECT.
Across the table, I caught Celeste's eye.
She was smiling.
That KNOWING smile.
That 'I see EXACTLY what's happening' smile.
I'm going to curse her.
I'm going to curse her SO HARD.
Maybe something that makes her hiccup every time she smirks.
The dinner began with the usual ceremonial nonsense—toasts to the Valdris Empire, speeches about diplomatic relations, blah blah blah.
I tried to focus on the food.
Roasted pheasant.
Looks delicious.
Tastes like... something.
I can't taste ANYTHING.
I can't concentrate on ANYTHING except the fact that Riku is RIGHT THERE.
Six inches away.
Wearing a matching earring.
SMELLING like sandalwood and dark spice.
"You're not eating," Riku observed.
Because I'm too busy trying not to STARE at you.
Because my brain has STOPPED WORKING.
"I'm pacing myself," I said. "It's a long dinner."
Good excuse.
Very reasonable.
Totally believable.
He leaned closer, and I caught another wave of that sandalwood and spice scent.
STOP.
STOP SMELLING GOOD.
STOP EXISTING.
"In the Valdris Empire," he said quietly, his voice low enough that only I could hear, "we value honesty over protocol. Strength over pretense. We don't hide what we are."
He's doing it again.
He's saying exactly the things I want to hear.
STOP IT.
STOP UNDERSTANDING ME.
"How refreshing," I said, trying to sound sarcastic instead of breathless. "Here in Astervane, we value... excessive formality and repressed emotions."
Riku laughed—a genuine, warm laugh that made something in my chest do a very stupid flip.
STOP LAUGHING.
STOP BEING CHARMING.
STOP—
His hand brushed against mine on the table.
Casual.
Accidental.
Except it WASN'T accidental.
That was DELIBERATE.
An electric surge shot through me—like touching a live wire, like magic igniting, like something DANGEROUS and INTOXICATING.
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
What WAS that?
I pulled my hand back, reaching for my wine glass again with fingers that were definitely trembling.
Smooth.
Very smooth.
He definitely didn't notice that.
"You're nervous," Riku said, and there was something almost... delighted in his tone.
I am NOT—
Okay, I'm ABSOLUTELY nervous.
But he doesn't need to KNOW that.
"I'm cautious," I corrected, taking a long drink of wine. "There's a difference."
"Is there?" His eyes were gleaming with amusement. "You seem nervous to me."
YES.
THERE IS.
SHUT UP.
I glanced toward the head table and immediately regretted it.
Aldric was watching us.
Oh FUCK.
He's WATCHING.
He looks... uncomfortable.
Good.
EXCELLENT.
Let him be uncomfortable.
Let him watch me having a perfectly civil conversation with a foreign prince who's clearly interested.
Let him STEW in it.
But there was something else in Aldric's expression—something that looked almost like... concern?
Wait.
Is he WORRIED?
About what?
That I'm going to cause a diplomatic incident?
That I'm going to—
"Your prince is watching us," Riku said, following my gaze. "He looks... displeased."
Displeased.
That's one word for it.
JEALOUS is another.
"He's always displeased," I said. "It's his natural state. I think his face is just stuck that way."
Riku's smile turned sharp—predatory. "In the Valdris Empire, we don't waste time on princes who can't recognize strength when they see it."
STOP.
STOP SAYING PERFECT THINGS.
STOP UNDERSTANDING EXACTLY WHAT I NEED TO HEAR.
I took another long drink of wine.
This is FINE.
Everything is FINE.
I'm just having dinner with a devastatingly attractive prince who keeps saying exactly what I want to hear.
While wearing a matching earring.
While my technically-fiancé watches from across the room.
While my mother silently judges my composure.
While Celeste SMIRKS at me.
TOTALLY FINE.
COMPLETELY NORMAL.
"Tell me," Riku said, leaning even closer, "what's the most dangerous spell you've learned so far?"
Oh.
OH.
He wants to talk about MAGIC.
Dark magic.
He wants to talk about the thing I'm actually GOOD at.
The thing I can discuss without COMBUSTING.
I felt some of my panic ease, replaced by genuine interest.
This I can do.
This I can talk about without turning into a blushing DISASTER.
"Curses," I said, warming to the topic. "Specifically, curses that target the mind rather than the body."
His eyes lit up—actually LIT UP with interest.
"Psychological warfare," he said. "Elegant."
He thinks it's ELEGANT.
He UNDERSTANDS.
He GETS it.
"The body heals," I said, leaning forward slightly. "But the mind? The mind remembers. The mind breaks in ways that can't be fixed. A well-placed curse can destroy someone more thoroughly than any physical attack."
"Exactly," Riku said, and there was something almost hungry in his expression. "Power isn't just about destruction. It's about control. Understanding. Precision."
STOP.
STOP UNDERSTANDING ME.
STOP BEING PERFECT.
STOP—
I realized I was leaning toward him, drawn in by the conversation, by the way he looked at me like I was saying something fascinating instead of terrifying.
This is dangerous.
This is SO dangerous.
He's making me WANT things.
Things I shouldn't want.
Things that complicate EVERYTHING.
His hand brushed mine again—this time lingering, deliberate, sending another electric surge through me.
FUCK.
He's doing it on PURPOSE.
He KNOWS what he's doing.
I didn't pull away this time.
Why am I not pulling away?
Why does this feel GOOD?
Why do I WANT—
"You're blushing again," he said softly, his voice dropping even lower.
FUCK.
I AM.
I'M BLUSHING AGAIN.
"It's warm in here," I said defensively, but my voice came out breathless.
"Is it?" His smile was devastating. "I find it quite comfortable."
SHUT UP.
SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.
We were close now—closer than was appropriate for a formal dinner.
Too close.
Way too close.
I should move back.
I should—
But I didn't move back.
I leaned closer.
What am I DOING?
What is WRONG with me?
"Tell me about precision," I said, and my voice was barely above a whisper. "In magic. What makes a spell precise?"
Good.
Keep talking about magic.
That's SAFE.
That's—
"Control," Riku said, his eyes locked on mine. "Perfect control. Knowing exactly what you want and how to achieve it. No wasted energy. No hesitation."
His hand covered mine completely now, warm and solid and sending electricity racing up my arm.
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
This is NOT safe.
This is the OPPOSITE of safe.
"And what do you want?" I asked, and I had no idea where that question came from.
WHAT AM I DOING?
WHY DID I ASK THAT?
ABORT.
ABORT ABORT ABORT.
Riku's smile turned softer—more genuine, less predatory.
"Right now?" he said quietly. "I want to understand you. The real you. Not the villainess everyone fears. Not the dark mage everyone condemns. You."
STOP.
STOP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT.
STOP SEEING ME.
STOP—
I was leaning closer.
Why am I leaning closer?
Why is HE leaning closer?
Why are we—
Our faces were inches apart now.
Too close.
Way too close.
This is—
His eyes dropped to my lips.
Oh.
Oh FUCK.
He's going to—
I'm going to—
We're going to—
I leaned in, completely smitten, completely charmed, completely LOST in those amber eyes and that sandalwood scent and the way he looked at me like I was something precious instead of terrifying.
Just a little closer.
Just—
"Lady Raven," a voice said, bright and cheerful and absolutely DEVASTATING. "Might I borrow you for a moment?"
I jerked back like I'd been burned.
CELESTE.
SISTER CELESTE.
THANK THE GODS.
FUCK.
BOTH.
SIMULTANEOUSLY.
She was standing there, smiling that serene priestess smile, but her eyes were absolutely GLEAMING with knowledge.
She SAW.
She saw us almost—
She saw EVERYTHING.
FUCK.