The corridor descended into chaos.
Guards shouted over one another.
Steel scraped from sheaths.
The storm outside raged harder, thunder shaking the palace as though the heavens themselves wanted entry.
But Seraphina heard almost none of it.
Only one word echoed endlessly inside her mind.
Sister.
Not rumor.
Not myth.
Not political manipulation.
Real.
Hidden.
Alive.
The realization struck harder than fear ever could.
Because if her sister lived—
Then someone had lied to her for years.
Her father.
The court.
Perhaps even Master Thorne.
Seraphina turned sharply.
"You knew."
The accusation landed coldly.
Thorne did not deny it.
"I suspected."
"You suspected?"
Lightning illuminated the corridor, casting sharp shadows across her face.
"You watched me mourn someone I didn't even know existed."
His expression hardened with regret.
"The king swore everyone involved to secrecy."
"My father is dead."
"And his enemies are not."
The words silenced her.
Around them, terrified guards formed a defensive line as servants fled deeper into the palace. Somewhere in the darkness, footsteps echoed.
Slow.
Measured.
Almost playful.
Thorne lowered his voice.
"You must leave the palace."
"No."
"Seraphina—"
"No."
She stepped forward, fury replacing confusion.
"For years people made decisions about my life without asking me. My father hid truths. Alaric betrayed me. Eveline manipulated the court."
Her eyes sharpened.
"I am done running from shadows."
Then—
A laugh echoed softly through the corridor.
Not loud.
Not cruel.
Familiar.
The guards spun toward the darkness instantly.
"Show yourself!" one shouted.
Silence.
Then—
The palace torches reignited all at once.
WHOOSH.
Golden fire flooded the corridor again.
And standing at the far end—
She appeared.
The little girl was gone.
In her place stood a woman.
Young.
Elegant.
Terrifyingly beautiful.
She looked no older than Seraphina herself.
Dark hair cascaded over silver embroidered fabric, and though her face had matured—
There was no mistaking it.
She looked exactly like the queen.
Same sharp cheekbones.
Same storm-gray eyes.
Same royal bearing.
Like staring into a reflection twisted by darkness.
Gasps rippled through the guards.
One dropped his sword entirely.
The woman smiled faintly.
"Well," she said softly, "that reunion took longer than expected."
Seraphina forgot how to breathe.
Impossible.
Impossible.
Yet there she stood.
Alive.
Real.
Her sister.
Master Thorne immediately stepped between them.
"Stay back."
The woman sighed dramatically.
"Oh, Thorne," she said, sounding almost amused. "Still pretending you can protect her?"
His hand tightened around his sword.
"You shouldn't have returned."
"And miss all this?" Her eyes drifted lazily toward Seraphina. "The coronation. The betrayal. The assassination attempt."
A smile touched her lips.
"You've had such an exciting week, sister."
The word hit harder than any blade.
Seraphina stepped forward.
"What is your name?"
For the first time—
Something flickered across the woman's face.
Sadness.
Gone almost instantly.
"You really don't remember me."
"I was told you died."
"Yes."
A humorless laugh escaped her.
"Convenient, wasn't it?"
Thunder cracked overhead.
The guards looked increasingly nervous.
None of them lowered their weapons.
Because despite her calm appearance—
Something about her felt dangerous.
Wrong.
Like standing too close to deep water.
Seraphina swallowed carefully.
"Why are you here?"
Her sister tilted her head slightly.
"To save your life."
The answer stunned everyone.
Thorne scoffed quietly. "You expect us to believe that?"
Her expression turned cold.
"You should."
She stepped closer.
Several guards raised spears immediately.
None of them noticed—
Their shadows were moving.
Not naturally.
Wrongly.
Stretching.
Crawling.
As though alive.
Her sister looked directly at Seraphina.
"Eveline wasn't your enemy."
The queen stiffened.
"She tried to kill me."
"No," the woman replied softly. "She tried to stop something worse."
A chill passed through the corridor.
Thorne's voice sharpened dangerously.
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
She glanced toward the dead Captain Roland.
"Ask yourselves why palace soldiers are becoming monsters."
No one answered.
Because no one had one.
Her gaze returned to Seraphina.
"The kingdom is rotting from the inside."
"What are you talking about?"
"The royal bloodline."
Silence.
Then she said the words that shattered everything.
"Father wasn't sick."
Seraphina's pulse stopped.
"He was murdered."
The corridor erupted instantly.
"What?!"
"That's impossible!"
"By who?"
Her sister's smile disappeared completely.
"The same people trying to kill you."
Seraphina stepped forward without thinking.
"Tell me everything."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
Because suddenly—
Her sister's expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
She looked behind Seraphina.
Not at the guards.
Not at Thorne.
Something else.
Something above them.
Then she whispered—
"They found us."
The ceiling exploded.
Stone crashed downward.
Screams erupted.
A massive creature crashed into the corridor from above—
Twice the size of the first.
Its skin blackened like ash.
Golden eyes burning violently.
And branded across its chest—
The same cursed symbol.
The monster roared so loudly the palace walls trembled.
But what terrified Seraphina most—
Was what the creature said next.
In a distorted, broken voice:
"Bring… the true queen… alive."