The scent of rain clung to the morning air, not from the heavens but from the garden staff hosing down the stone pathways that wound through the east courtyard. Birds chirped with an edge of defiance—spring was awakening fast, even if Etril's castle remained heavy with secrets.
I wrapped my shawl tighter around my shoulders, walking alone along the rose-lined path. It had been two days since the... moment with Kyren. I hadn't spoken about it. Not to Tyla, not to my father. Certainly not to Kyren himself. But I thought about it—far too much.
Every time I caught a glimpse of him across the training field or passing in the hall, my heart misbehaved. I hated it.
He hadn't said anything either. That was the most infuriating part. One stolen moment in a darkened hall, one intense kiss—and then… nothing.
"Typical beast," I muttered under my breath, kicking a stray pebble into the flowerbed.
"Talking to stones now?" came a voice behind me—deep, amused, and far too graceful.
I turned and found Geo leaning against a stone column like it had grown there just to hold him up. His meadow-green eyes shone with mischief, but there was something more in them today. Something I couldn't quite place.
"Better than talking to you," I said, forcing a half-smile.
He laughed softly. "That's cruel, Lady Vidalia. I bring company, charm, and rumors of a strange visitor on horseback."
That caught my attention. "Visitor?"
Geo shrugged, stepping closer. "Arrived just before sunrise. Cloaked. Didn't speak to anyone, but the guards said she carried royal sigils from Dyrwood. Odd timing, no?"
I narrowed my eyes. "What does someone from Dyrwood want with Etril?"
"Who knows?" He reached out, brushing a small petal from my sleeve. "But I'd advise caution. Not everyone comes bearing peace."
I stepped back slightly. "Noted. Though you hardly strike me as a neutral observer yourself."
His smile faltered—just for a second—but then returned full force. "Touché, Lady Caradine. You've grown sharper."
"I've had practice," I said, and walked past him.
Let him watch me walk away. I needed to breathe again.
Elsewhere in the castle, Kyren stood in the war chamber, facing Mark.
"She's here," Mark said simply, arms crossed.
Kyren looked up from the map he'd been brooding over. "Who?"
"Lady Senra."
Kyren's face hardened.
"I thought she'd vanished," Mark added. "She hasn't stepped foot in any kingdom in nearly a decade."
"She only comes when the scales tip," Kyren muttered. "Either to balance them—or break them entirely."
Mark raised an eyebrow. "What's she after?"
Kyren's eyes flicked toward the windows, where storm clouds had begun to gather on the horizon.
"Us."
The east wing dining hall, usually reserved for small noble meetings, had been hastily cleared and repurposed for a private audience. No trumpets. No fanfare. Only a select few were invited, and no one dared to question it.
I was one of them. Of course I was. Curiosity had always been my most reckless trait.
I arrived in a soft lavender gown—something muted but noble. Tyla had insisted on curling my hair, as if I was about to attend a ball instead of a possibly cursed tea party. "Impressions matter," she'd said.
Kyren stood by the hearth, arms crossed, flanked by Mark. When his eyes found mine, I expected heat, but there was only warning in them.
Before I could even greet him, the room shifted.
The guards at the door stiffened, the silence somehow deepened, and then she walked in.
Lady Senra.
She didn't look like what I imagined. No crown, no obvious wealth. Just long silver hair braided down her back, a dark green cloak that whispered across the marble floor, and a scar over one eye—barely visible but unmistakably there.
She held a walking cane, but she didn't lean on it. It looked more like a weapon than an aid.
Everyone stood. She didn't acknowledge us.
"I want a window seat," she said, her voice clear and cold.
She walked past Kyren without a glance, past Mark, and came to sit at the far end of the table—directly beside me.
I tried not to stare.
"So…" she finally said, taking in the table like we were all chess pieces. "This is the beast's court."
Kyren's jaw ticked. "Lady Senra, you—"
"Don't flatter me with titles," she cut in. "I come as neither friend nor foe. I come because I smell rot."
I blinked.
She turned her head slightly. "And it's not coming from the dungeons."
There was a weight in the air—like truth was about to pour out of someone's mouth and none of us were ready for it.
"I've heard rumors," she went on, now glancing at me, "of a duke's daughter, dragged into a marriage she never sought. Of an alliance sealed in blood and teeth. Of two men orbiting the same sun."
She didn't say Kyren or Geo's name. She didn't have to.
"Lady Senra," I said softly, finding my voice, "why are you here?"
Her eyes, grey like smoke and older than her face, held mine.
"To warn you, child. You stand at the center of a war not yet declared. One side wears his beast on his sleeve. The other—" she paused, "hides his deep within."
My throat tightened.
Mark looked visibly unnerved. Kyren said nothing.
Lady Senra pushed herself up with the cane. "I'll not stay. I do not interfere. But heed this, all of you: when the roses begin to bleed, don't be surprised when they bite back."
With that cryptic farewell, she left the room. No bow. No second glance.
Silence fell.
I stared at the space she'd left behind, my mind racing.
Kyren finally spoke. "She's not mad. She's not a witch. But she sees things—things the rest of us ignore."
"And she came here just to say that?" I asked.
Mark stepped forward. "She never comes unless something's about to break."
Kyren turned toward me then, something unreadable in his expression.
"Stay close," he said quietly. "No matter what you think of me. No matter what you feel."
I nodded slowly.
But in the back of my mind, Lady Senra's words echoed like a bell before a storm:
One wears his beast. The other hides his deep within.