The physician bowed instantly — deep, careful respect — the moment my father drew near.
"My Lord… if anyone deserves blame here, let it fall only on me."
His hard expression never softened. Silence stretched tight down the corridor.
She kept her tone steady, spinning the lie smooth: "Lady Seraphina was worried sick about you. Panicked when you vanished right after the council and nobody could say where you'd gone. I just went along with her — to make sure she didn't run into trouble wandering around alone."
For one breath I stared in real surprise… then quickly fixed my face into proper, anxious innocence.
She was covering for me — or more exactly… covering what I carried.
Father's eyes narrowed even more. He didn't buy it. Not even close.
Before he could push harder or demand answers, I stepped right up and slipped my arms lightly around him — extra careful of the heavy bundle pressed tight under my gown. One wrong move… and everything spills out. My pulse hammered loud and fast.
"Father…" came out softer, shakier than I meant. "I honestly was scared. You left so suddenly… and no one knew where to find you."
At least that part was true enough to sound real.
Slowly his hands settled on my shoulders — not warm or loving… more like he was weighing me. Even while holding me close, he measured every word, breath, tiny shift. Suspicion clung to every line of him.
"I'm perfectly safe," he said finally — though his gaze stayed sharp and searching. "But you never should go wandering alone in parts of the house clearly marked off‑limits."
Off‑limits. So I was right — it really was his private hidden room.
I dropped my head obediently. "I understand… and I really am sorry."
His grip tightened just a second… before he turned and steered me firmly away down the hall — careful, slow… like even now he couldn't quite decide whether to trust what he'd just seen.
Just before we turned out of sight… he shot one sharp look back at the physician. The warning was plain without words: Don't ever risk this again.
She bowed low at once. "Yes, My Lord."
Then — fast as a blink before I looked away — her eyes flicked straight to mine. Quiet. Urgent. Clear as speech: Remember what we agreed. Guard it with your life.
As he led me off, my mind stayed stuck back there: inside that hidden room… against the heavy black bundle digging into my side… and every grim thing she'd said about Northern treachery and old fatal mistakes.
It hit me: she'd served this house for decades — way before I ever woke up inside this story.
Not my world. This was the book I used to read late into nights: where Seraphina Everfrost started spoiled, proud, foolish… and ended broken and frozen in snow.
If the original girl was twenty‑two now… this woman was probably even there the day she was born. Watched her grow… watched her make every tragic choice written in ink.
And now? I'm the one walking in her skin.
Sometimes the unreality felt sharp and strange… never clearer than moments exactly like this. Nothing was just story anymore: hidden rooms, damning papers, traps snapping shut around the Southern household… and Draven himself — all breathing, alive, dangerous flesh‑and‑blood truth.
My fingers pressed harder unseen against the bundle.
If what she handed me really holds proof enough to blow apart the North's whole rotten plan… I might actually rewrite the ending.
Maybe Draven never finds out about that "betrayal" that destroyed Seraphina in the book… never turns on her with that cold killing rage… and maybe… I never end up kneeling in snow waiting for the axe.
That memory still sends cold shivers down me: silent crowd… Duke's face carved like ice… an end written like it could never change. Back when I read it safe in my own world, I only pitied her. Now? That fear belongs entirely to me.
But things were shifting already. The path bending away from the printed pages. Strangest sign of all: that cruel System that ran everything hasn't popped up once since I arrived — no alerts, no penalties, no voice buzzing in my head. Nothing.
Which meant I was still close enough to the original story line to avoid interference. A tiny, fragile breath of relief loosened my tight chest.
My thoughts snapped sharp back to the present when Father spoke again beside me — calm… sharp… like he already knew the answer.
"So tell me — exactly what did she say to you when you were alone?"
I almost froze right there — caught off guard — before I remembered: real Seraphina used to blab every single thing she heard. He fully expected me to spill it all just like usual.
I steadied my breath and face fast… then gave a soft, careful smile.
"Mostly she just talked about how great you are," I said smooth and easy.
He blinked, clearly surprised. I pushed the advantage before doubt crept back in: "She said hardly any leader could've kept the North held steady all these years through so much trouble… especially while I was away from home so long."
All made‑up — but perfectly shaped to feed his pride.
His face softened just a fraction. The heavy hand on my shoulder loosened a little as we kept walking.
And hidden away… I gripped that deadly secret tighter still.
Hours dragged heavy and slow before I finally got permission to slip away. Endless meetings: reports, arguments, talk of alliances and troop movements… every minute heavier than the one before. Through it all, one thought kept circling: Where is Draven?
I glanced toward the doors constantly — half‑expecting him to just appear, cut through the suffocating air, and pull me out of there. He never came.
At last I stood up — patience worn dangerously thin. "May I be excused… I suddenly feel quite unwell and need quiet for a moment." I put on a look of mild, awkward discomfort. "I… just need to step away briefly."
Nobody stopped me. Thank heaven.
Once outside, I lifted my skirts and hurried fast along corridors — keeping up appearances only just enough — heart hammering the whole way. That file seemed to grow heavier with every single step.
Safe inside our rooms at last: I slammed the door shut, twisted the key, and slid the second lock home just in case. Only then did I let myself breathe freely. My hands shook openly as I pulled the black bundle loose.
Crossing fast to the wardrobe, I shoved fine gowns aside… buried it deep under the heaviest layers… and snapped the compartment lock shut hard.
Only then did I sink onto the bed edge, pressing my palms tight together just to steady myself.
What should I tell him first? This terrible proof… or Stephen's threats and the brand he showed me? My chest tightened sharp. Both mean death if mishandled — but this file comes first. No choice.
I leaned back against the bedpost… and waited.
Minutes stretched like hours. Then — soft knock.
I stiffened instantly… then forced myself calm again. Still my rooms… at least for right now.
Opened it: two maids stood respectful outside with dinner trays, warm steam curling up. "My Lady."
I nodded them in; they set the meal neat and bowed quietly out. I barely touched a bite — just sat listening… watching the latch… waiting.
Until finally — it moved again.
I stood straight up. The very second my eyes landed on him… relief flooded me so sudden and strong it nearly shocked me.
Draven walked in calm and easy — pulled off his dark disguise mask just like taking off an old glove. Before I could stop myself… a real, bright smile already spread across my face — the kind I hadn't even realised I was holding back until he looked right at me.
One dark eyebrow lifted slow, questioning.
I cleared my throat fast and turned my head away… scrambling to sound proper. "What took you so long out there anyway?" I asked light and sharp — like I hadn't been counting every single second.
He dropped his heavy outer coat slowly… sank easy into the chair near the fire. "Checks… introductions… showing my face around," he answered dry. Reached straight for wine without ceremony.
"And word travels fast here," he added after a slow sip. "'Raphael' the mysterious new guard is already famous across the whole place — talking like I'm just some random sellsword picked up off the road."
A small, helpless laugh broke out before I could hold it back.
He set the glass down gently — and his whole vibe shifted instantly: casual gone… sharp and watching everything.
"But here's what matters: while wandering around I picked up bits of planning. Tomorrow… they mean to stage an 'abduction' of the Duke visiting in from the South."
Silence dropped hard.
Then low, rough, dangerous chuckle rumbled out: "Pretty funny thing though… seeing as the target they're planning to grab… is me."
I stared one breath… then found myself laughing quiet despite every heavy weight pressing down. "That is absolutely insane."
"Yeah," he said calm and deadly serious. "Completely."
But humour vanished fast like smoke — memory crashed back. The file.
I stood up quick… walked straight over to the wardrobe.
Draven sat dead still, watching every move as I unlocked it… reached deep… and brought out that black leather bundle. The exact moment his eyes recognised the shape — every line of him went stone‑hard.
I walked back slow and careful and handed it over. "Found it hidden deep in that secret room. Given to me in secret… and in a huge rush… straight from the Royal Physician herself."
He took it without a word… broke the seal… opened the first page.
Silence swallowed the whole room instantly. I tracked every tiny change: first blank, tight control… then brows pulling sharp together… air growing heavy… fingers gripping the edges so hard his knuckles went white.
Suddenly — he slammed it shut hard enough I jumped back. Sharp crack echoed loud off the walls. A low curse tore out between his teeth.
He spun sharply away… jaw locked tight as iron.
"Did you read even one single line inside?" The question snapped out — rough, short, dangerous.
"No — never," I answered fast and clear. "I waited only for you."
"Good." Short. Final. Like an order — mind already miles ahead. "And don't ever open or look at it now or later. Not even a peek."
Something cold and lethal lived right under his tone — darker and sharper than any mood I'd ever seen from him yet. Before I could push or ask anything, he moved abruptly: strode fast to the cabinet, locked it deep inside, slipped the key safe on his belt… and sat back down — relaxed gone completely.
Now that familiar, terrible habit started: restless tapping on the chair arm — once… twice… steady beat of a mind racing through threats and worst‑case death‑plans.
For the first time ever… Draven actually looked shaken.
I swallowed hard… stepped soft closer. "Draven… there's something else I really need to tell you too — about Stephen…"
"I have NO patience for more things right now."
Cut off flat — not exactly cruel… but he wasn't even really listening anymore. His eyes stayed fixed unseeing deep inside the fire. I went quiet instantly — knowing it was useless.
Restless energy took over: sharp pace back and forth… drop into seat… stand again… biting at his fingertip while staring deep into flames like answers might burn there.
What on earth could be written there to rock him this bad? Did he already guess bits of it? Is he mad only the secret leaked… or terrified others already hold copies too?
My heart raced faster. Time slipped away fast… and I still hadn't managed to say a word about Stephen's threats or that mark.
Then — sudden — he lifted his head… locked his gaze straight and heavy right into mine… held it long, unbroken, heavy as a blade pressed to skin.
"Apart from you… who else even knows this thing exists?" Voice dropped low… pure danger.
I hesitated only half a second. "Only the Royal Physician herself."
Instant reaction: he surged straight up — movement smooth and blinding‑fast. Grabbed his coat in one sharp sweep.
Alarm squeezed my chest tight. "Where are you rushing off to like that?"
"To talk to her — before anyone else gets to her first."
Answer thrown backward already while he moved for the door — fast… reckless‑fast.
Panic flared hot inside: If he confronts her in this state… will his guard disguise slip and show Duke Draven plain? Will the whole careful lie fall apart instantly? Is this meeting itself already some trap set just to catch them both? And worst of all… what terrible truth hides written in that black leather… powerful enough to rattle even Draven right down to his core?