Lyz had transported Annabella across three territories and delivered her to her father's estate. The journey had been swift and silent, Annabella unconscious for most of it, only stirring with fevered murmurs of Rea's name.
Upon arrival, Alyster de la Croix showed no emotion at seeing his daughter carried in, pale and unconscious. He simply gestured for servants to take her to the Sisters of Light—the healing order attached to his household.
The Sisters purged the poison from Annabella's system, treated the effects of the broken seals, and conducted their examinations with clinical precision.
When Annabella finally woke, it was to white walls, medicinal herbs, and her father's cold presence.
"Father," she said, her voice hoarse.
Alyster de la Croix sat in a chair by her bedside—tall, iron-grey hair, purple eyes identical to hers but devoid of warmth. He assessed her like one might examine livestock.
"You're awake." His tone was flat. "Good. We have questions that need answering."
No concern. No relief. Just business.
Annabella pushed herself up, her body weak but functional. Her newly white hair fell around her shoulders. "I'm ready."
"Tell me what happened."
Annabella kept her voice steady. "Reagan took me shortly after I arrived. She claimed it was love, but I believe she wanted leverage. She kept me in a warded chamber, administered poison daily to weaken me and prevent escape. I cannot confirm if it was at the Corvenius Realm but she was getting help. They had unmeasurable means."
"It is true that poison is from the blood of a gorgon. They are extinct. Only the Glamorian could get such a poison in that quantity that easily" Alyster's eyes narrowed. "What about your seals"
"On the fifth day, the poison dose was insufficient. I regained consciousness and in desperation, broke all my seals simultaneously." Annabella met his gaze. "The power surge shattered the wards. Lyz found me shortly after and extracted me."
Alyster listened in complete silence. When she finished, he stood and approached the bed.
"It's time you handled your powers like an adult instead of hiding behind seals like a frightened child."His dismissive tone suggested her supposed captivity meant nothing to him. "Perhaps this ordeal forced the maturity you've been lacking."
Then something shifted in his expression—something almost gentle. He reached out and touched her cheek.
"You have grown, my child."
Annabella's breath caught. This wasn't like him—
His hand moved to her throat, gripping hard enough to cut off her air.
"But you still lie to me like that terrified little girl."His voice was deadly quiet. "I had the Sisters examine you thoroughly, Annabella. You are no longer a virgin. So stop wasting my time and tell me—did the mongrel touch you?"
Annabella's mind raced even as she clawed at his hand. She needed a lie. Something believable. Something he couldn't disprove.
"Obviously, Father," she gasped, letting irritation color her voice despite the choking. "You threw me at Arthur Winstor's feet for years. Did you think he kept his hands to himself?"
Alyster's grip loosened slightly. "Arthur?"
"Yes." Annabella coughed as he released her, rubbing her throat. She didn't look away this time—met his eyes with something almost like defiance. "It happened at his grandfather's estate. He came to my chambers, said it was his right as my betrothed. That you'd want me to accommodate him to secure the alliance."
Alyster studied her face, his eyes beginning to glow faintly as he searched for deception.
"Your menses?" he asked sharply.
"Came three weeks ago." Truth. Thank god for that truth.
The glow faded. He stepped back, and for the first time, Annabella saw something like respect flicker across his features.
"Clever," he said quietly. "Using a dead man as your shield. I can't verify the story, and Arthur can't deny it." He almost smiled. "You've learned well."
"I learned from the best," Annabella said, her voice cool.
"The essence exchange from bedding Arthur likely contributed to your new capacity to break those seals," Alyster mused, pacing to the window. "Sexual union between powerful mages creates an energy transfer—weaknesses and strengths intermingle. Arthur's pure life magic mixing with yours..." He waved a hand. "It explains your sudden power surge."
Annabella said nothing, letting him believe his own theory.
"Your future husband Harry will overlook your lost purity," Alyster continued. "He's been visiting the temple daily, eager to see you. I trust my daughter understands her duty?"
Here. This was her moment.
"Of course, Father." Annabella's voice was silk over steel. "However, I have a request. Delay George Winstor's execution."
Alyster turned, eyebrow raised. "Explain."
"You're supporting Charles's ascension to leadership of Lucreus Realm and all life mages, yes?" Annabella's tone was purely analytical now. "George is too soft, too honest for your ambitions. Charles is harder. More ruthless. Someone you can work with. However, he is also opportunistic and since my abduction might have been the work of Glamorian that still reject your legitimacy as the Head of the Ambroseius realm because we are Qzartian, he could use it to weaken your reach"
"Continue."
"But if George dies now—before my marriage to Harry—the timing damages us." Annabella sat up straighter, her political mind fully engaged. "Glamorian will say you orchestrated his death to secure the match. That Charles murdered his father on your orders. It weakens Charles's legitimacy before he's even consolidated power."
She could see Alyster's interest sharpening.
"More importantly, marrying me to Harry while George still lives—while Charles is heir but not yet leader—secures our position immediately. Harry becomes head of House Winstor upon George's eventual death. That's one additional seat on the council locked in before Charles fully ascends. Before he's powerful enough that he doesn't need us anymore."
Annabella leaned forward slightly. "And as wife to the heir of House Winstor, I gain silent voting power in council matters. A proxy vote I can wield in your interests. That's an asset you want secured before Charles sits the throne and realizes he can outmaneuver you."
Silence. Then Alyster laughed—genuine, surprised laughter.
"When did you stop being afraid of me?" he asked, something like pride in his voice.
"The moment I broke my seals and realized you couldn't touch me if I didn't allow it," Annabella said calmly. "But I'm still your daughter. And I still know where my interests lie."
Alyster moved closer, this time without violence. "You've grown sharper than I anticipated. Your strategy is sound."Andrew doesn' t have the means neither the wit to plan something that elaborated. After i dealt with him, he became a shadow" He studied her with new eyes. "I would have killed you for lying about the mongrel girl. But this? This makes you useful in ways I hadn't considered."
"I aim to please, Father."
His smile was cold. "Rest. Regain your strength. Harry arrives tomorrow." He paused at the door. "And Annabella? Now that we has cleared Andrew of suspicion. We've shifted our focus elsewhere. The mongrel is no longer our priority target."
Good. That was the plan—get Alyster to look away from Andrew, make Rea harder to track, harder to hunt.
The door closed. Annabella sat alone, hand touching her bruised throat.
She'd survived. She'd lied successfully. She'd bought Rea time.
But somewhere, Rea was still sleeping—still dreaming of their impossible future.
Back at Andrew's castle,
Rea still laid unconscious.
The maid's hands were wandering.
She'd been cleaning Rea's unconscious body for the past ten minutes, fingers lingering on skin, touching far more than necessary, clearly enjoying herself.
Rea's hand shot up and caught her wrist.
The maid yelped as Rea's eyes flew open—wild, unfocused, desperate.
"Where—" Rea's voice was hoarse. "Where am I? Where's Annabella?"
She tried to sit up and the room spun violently. Five days unconscious had left her weak, disoriented.
"My lady, you must rest—"
"WHERE IS SHE?!" Rea shoved the woman away, stumbling out of bed. She grabbed her clothes with shaking hands, pulling them on even as her legs threatened to give out.
She had to find Annabella. Something was wrong. Everything felt wrong.
Rea stumbled through corridors she barely recognized until she crashed through the throne room doors.
Andrew stood by the fireplace. When he saw her, relief and dread warred on his face.
"Rea—"He rushed forward as her legs gave out, catching her. "Thank god you're awake."
"What the fuck happened?" Rea grabbed Andrew's shirt, hauling herself up. "Where is Annabella?"
Andrew's face was a mask of grief. "She's gone."
"No."Rea shoved him away, staggering toward the door. "No, she can't be far—I'll find her—"
"Rea, stop—"
"Don't you fucking dare!" Rea spun on him. "Don't try to stop me from going after my fiancée!"
"She's not your fiancée anymore!" Andrew's voice cracked. "She's gone back to her father. She left five days ago while you were unconscious."
Rea froze.
"The spell was only supposed to last two days," he whispered.
"She has become stronger than she anticipated. I assume an essence exchange occurred." Andrew's hands flexed helplessly with a mixture of jealousy and resentment.
"She's been gone for days, Rea. She's already home." He said snapping out of it.
"Then I'll go there. I'll bring her back—"
"And get yourself killed!" Andrew grabbed her shoulders. "And destroy everything she sacrificed for!"
"Sacrificed?" Rea's voice was dangerous. "What are you talking about?"
"Charles has condemned George to death."
Rea froze. "What?"
Andrew's voice was heavy. "There was a coup. Charles won. George is under house arrest with Allegra—surveillance everywhere, High Priestess wards. Charles is going to force him to perform a crossover while still alive. When someone transfers their powers before natural death, the strain kills them. Your grandfather is going to die, Rea."
The room tilted. George had raised her. Protected her secret. Loved her when her own father—
"And Harry has claimed Annabella," Andrew continued. " She is going to agree to marry him to keep Alyster busy with political games, to weaken Charles's position. It buys us time to hide you, time to clear my name—"
"I don't care about hiding!" Rea's voice rose. "My grandfather is dying and Annabella is being forced to marry that bastard!"
"If you go after them, Charles will kill you!" Andrew stepped closer. "You're a threat to his legitimacy. He wants you eliminated before anyone discovers the truth."
Rea's laugh was bitter. "So I just hide while everyone I love suffers?"
"You survive so you can actually save them later!" Andrew's composure cracked. "This isn't about what you want! It's about staying alive long enough to find a real solution!"
"There has to be another way—"
"There isn't!" Andrew grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "You stubborn fool! Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to watch Annabella sacrifice everything?" His voice broke with jealousy and pain. She even is destroying herself to keep you safe. So don't throw that away because you can't handle what love actually costs!"
Rea stared at him, seeing the barely contained jealousy, the frustration.
She grabbed his collar again more aggressively with an oppressive power surge, her voice deadly calm. "I'll follow this plan on one condition. You swear to me that you'll find a way to stop that marriage. That you'll get both George and Annabella out."
Andrew met her eyes. "If we can clear my name, if we position correctly... there might be a chance during the wedding itself. But Rea—" He hesitated. "You'll have to choose. You can't save them both."
"Then I'll find a way to make it so I don't have to choose."
And somewhere in another realm, Annabella prepared to meet the man who would become her husband, carrying the same grief, the same loss, the same terrible knowledge that love hadn't been enough.