The garden stretched before us like a painted stage, sun warm on my pale skin, flowers nodding in the gentle breeze, the grass soft beneath my tiny shoes. The maids had prepared a picnic—delicate sweets, bread, and fruit arranged on fine linens—and Cassian was already plucking at the pastries with reckless delight, giggling as if the world were only made for fun.

Lucien, predictably, observed. Every movement of the maids, every flicker of their eyes, every twitch of a hand, cataloged and logged. I followed his gaze, curious, and noticed one maid near the edge of the blanket, her brow slick with sweat, her hands trembling slightly as she set down a tray of sweets.

Cassian tossed a cookie at me. “Try this, Princess! It’s the one with sugar dusted on top. It’s magical,” he said with a wide grin.

I picked it up delicately and bit into it, savoring the sweetness for less than a heartbeat before a hot, metallic taste flooded my mouth. Coughing, I gagged violently, the taste turning sharp and bitter. My stomach lurched. The air seemed suddenly thick, the sun too bright, the grass tilting like the world itself had gone askew.

Blood spattered from my mouth. Red. Vivid. Not black, not some witch’s mark. But the poison coursed quickly, faster than my small body could process, and my vision blurred.

“Princess!” Lucien barked, springing into motion, his calm composure cracking only slightly. His storm-grey eyes scanned the maids, resting on the one who had served me the cookies.

I tried to stand, tried to point, though my muscles faltered. “That…maid…poisoned me…” I gasped, each word a struggle, each breath sharp. My tiny hand wavered toward her. “Be…behead…her…now…”

Cassian shrieked and lunged for me, fumbling, tears forming in his bright eyes. “No! Selene! Stay with me!”

Lucien’s hand snapped out, steady as a blade, and one of the knights—tall, white-haired, eyes like sharpened steel—stepped forward. With a single, clean motion, the maid’s head was severed from her shoulders, blood spilling onto the soft grass. The sunlight glinted off the knight’s blade, and for a moment, the world froze, horridly silent, broken only by Cassian’s frantic sobs.

“Fetch the palace doctor,” Lucien commanded another maid, his voice cold, precise, carrying the weight of command even in the chaos.

I sagged into Cassian’s arms, chest heaving, heat and poison making my body tremble. His hands shook as he tried to cradle me like I was fragile porcelain, though I wasn’t fragile. I was alive, still calculating, still aware, and already plotting how swiftly the consequences would fall on anyone who dared touch me.

“Stay with me, Selene,” Cassian begged, voice breaking. His little hands gripped mine, and for a fleeting second, I allowed myself to feel—not fear, not anger—but the strange warmth of someone caring, even as a child.

Lucien’s storm-grey eyes never left me. “Breathe, Princess,” he said, voice low and commanding, a hand brushing my hair back. “The doctor will arrive. You will live.”

I nodded faintly, tasting blood, hearing the soft thud of my heart hammering in my chest. The garden, once peaceful, had turned into a tableau of death and obedience, and even in my small body, I understood the rules now: betrayal was swift, punishment swifter, and the Vetrasian Empire did not forgive.

Cassian whispered against my hair, “Don't die please…”

I blinked, the edge of consciousness flickering. “Aw… you care,” I murmured, a ghost of a smile brushing my lips before darkness pulled me under.