Chapter 39: A Different Perspective

𖤐••{SERAPHINE’S POV}••⛧

It’s not usually this quiet.

Someone always has something to say. A conversation to bring up. A complaint. A joke. Even an argument.

But ever since the night we had that fight, the only sounds filling the dining chamber have been the clinking of glasses and cutlery against plates.

We sit around the table in silence, pretending the argument never happened.

But it did. And none of us has forgotten it.

I hate this.

I hate that my children aren’t speaking to me. I know I was rather opinionated that night in Azræl’s chambers, and perhaps I said things they didn’t want to hear.

But are they seriously going to shut me out over one argument?

I glance at my daughter.

She sits across from me with the most unbothered expression I’ve ever seen, her gaze completely focused on her plate as she eats calmly.

When I shift my attention to my son, my brows immediately furrow.

He’s just sitting there, slowly turning the fork between his fingers while his food remains untouched and his wine glass still filled to the brim. He has that distant look in his eyes—the kind that tells me his body is here but his mind is somewhere else entirely.

"Azræl?" I say softly.

He doesn’t answer me.

"Azræl," I say sharply, snapping my fingers at him.

"Hmm?" Azræl blinks, finally looking up at me. "Sorry, Mother. What did you say?"

"What is the matter?" I ask gently. "You haven’t touched your food since you sat down in that chair."

He looks down for a heartbeat before meeting my gaze again. Then he leans back in his chair and lets out a sigh.

"I... uh..."

My frown deepens.

I can’t remember the last time I saw my son so caught off guard.

I glance at Azeria from the corner of my eye and now she suddenly seems intrigued.

"Azræl, is everything alright?" she asks. "Did something happen?"

He stares at her for a moment before answering.

"No," he murmurs. "There’s just..." He slowly rises from his seat, "there’s something I need to take care of."

Azræl pushes his chair back and walks away from the table without another word. My eyes follow him until the doors close behind him.

For a few heartbeats I remain silent. Then I slowly turn to face Azeria.

She is already looking at me.

I raise an eyebrow, silently asking her what that was about. But she just shrugs and returns to her meal.

I lean back in my seat and fold my arms over my chest.

Apparently, my children forgave me enough to sit at the same table, but they clearly haven’t forgiven me enough to speak to me.

꧁ ✧༺ ❦ ༻✧ ꧂

••{RHIANNON’S POV}••

I watch as the rose and lavender petals drift slowly across the water, their scent rising with the steam and filling my lungs with every breath I take.

I thought a warm bath would help quiet my thoughts, but even the smallest things remind me of him.

Like these rose petals... they remind me of his hair.

Even though it’s been hours, I can still feel the ghost of his touch inside me. I hate that I feel aroused just thinking about it, and I feel ashamed and angry at myself for letting it happen.

Not even Cyrus has touched me between my thighs, so how could I let the man who murdered him do it to me?

Why did I enjoy it?

Why does a part of me still crave his touch?

What is wrong with me?

I let out a sigh as I sink myself deeper into the bath.

"Please sit up, Your Majesty," says the maid behind me. "I haven’t yet washed your back."

"I think that’ll be enough," I murmur, glancing over my shoulder.

"Alright," she nods, setting down the washcloth before reaching for a robe.

I rise from the water and step out of the bath, then she helps me slip on the robe before we leave the bathing chamber and walk into my room.

As soon as I settle on the chair before my vanity, she begins to dry my hair. While she works, I find myself staring at nothing in particular, my thoughts consumed entirely by Azræl.

For a long moment, it’s completely silent until the maid speaks.

"Your Majesty?" she says softly.

I meet her eyes through the mirror.

"Forgive me if I’m overstepping," she continues, "but I can’t help noticing that you seem sad tonight. Distant, too. Is there something troubling you?"

I stare at her for a few heartbeats.

"It’s nothing," I mutter under my breath.

She gives me a simple nod before she starts brushing my hair. But now that someone asked, I suddenly feel the need to say something.

I bite my bottom lip, my fingers curling tighter and tighter in my lap until I can’t take it anymore.

"How important is Delilah to Azræl?" I ask, turning to face the maid.

Her brows immediately rise and her eyes widen.

"Oh," she says slowly. "Well... I don’t know what goes on in the Emperor’s mind so I can’t speak for him. But from what I’ve seen, His Majesty ensures Lady Delilah is well taken care of."

"Hmm," I hum, tilting my head. "Go on."

She hesitates for a second before continuing.

"Lady Delilah has lived in this castle for nearly two hundred years," she says carefully. "She has her own chambers, of course, and servants specifically assigned to her. They bring her meals, draw her baths, and see to whatever else she needs. She rarely has to ask for anything twice."

"I see..." I nod slowly. "What else?"

The maid gives me a small smile.

"The Lady is always dressed in the finest gowns. Every year the seamstresses make dozens for her, and she has quite an impressive collection of jewelry as well. She even has a private carriage she can use whenever she wishes to travel into the city. The coachmen are instructed to take her wherever she wants to go and wait for her until she is ready to return."

My brows furrow. "So she can simply leave the castle whenever she wants?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," she nods. "Lady Delilah has always had freedom here—"

"Alright, that’s enough," I say quickly, turning back to the mirror.

The maid presses her lips into a thin line.

As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I feel nothing but anger simmering in my chest.

"Why does she get all of that?" I ask.

The maid blinks. "Your Majesty?"

"Delilah," I say sharply, the hurt in my voice betraying me. "Why does she get to have privileges that even I, as Empress, am denied?"

She opens her mouth to say something but I don’t give her a chance to answer.

"I know why I’m constantly guarded," I continue. "I understand that Azræl is just trying to protect me... but I’m tired."

My fingers curl around the edge of the vanity.

"I’m so tired of being confined to these chambers."

My eyes start to sting but I quickly blink the tears away.

"For a whole month I’ve been surrounded by walls," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "I’m not asking to leave the castle, I just... I just want to go outside."

The maid lowers her gaze.

"I want to feel the sun on my face again. I want to walk through a garden and smell the flowers. I want to ride a horse."

A faint smile touches my lips despite myself.

"Back home, I used to ride for hours. Sometimes I’d leave the palace before breakfast and spend half the morning riding."

My smile fades.

"I miss it," I say quietly. "I miss the wind running through my hair, I miss being able to go somewhere simply because I wanted to."

The tears start welling up again.

"I know this is all for my safety. But I—I..."

For a moment I stare at her helplessly, searching for the right words but nothing comes. So I close my mouth and look away.

The maid watches me through the mirror for a few seconds before speaking.

"If it consoles you, Empress..." she says carefully. "I have never seen His Majesty care for anyone the way he cares for you."

My brows pull together. "What do you mean?"

"For the entire month you’ve been here, His Majesty has come to your chambers every single day, and he stays for hours on end."

"He doesn’t have to," she continues. "His Majesty is the Emperor. He has nine kingdoms to oversee. There are councils waiting for him, reports to read, nobles demanding his attention, and probably a dozen other places he could be."

She pauses for a heartbeat.

"But he gives up his time and chooses to be with you instead," she says softly, a faint smile curving her lips. "That alone should mean something."

My heartbeat stutters as it dawns on me.

All those afternoons when Azræl would come here and sit with me without saying much, I just always assumed he was keeping an eye on me.

But now...

I don’t know what to think.

The maid goes back to brushing my hair, and the room stays quiet for a long moment before I speak again.

"You know..." I murmur. "I actually feel a little better now."

I turn slightly to look at her.

"I think I just needed someone to talk to," I admit. "I’ve been keeping all of this inside for so long that I didn’t realize how much it was weighing on me."

A small smile touches my lips.

"And you made me realize something I hadn’t even thought about before."

"What is that, Your Majesty?" she asks.

I shake my head gently.

"I don’t know yet," I admit. "But I think... perhaps I’ve been looking at Azræl’s actions from the wrong perspective."

She gives me a knowing smile through the mirror.

I turn fully to face her.

"Thank you," I say softly.

Her smile widens a bit.

"You don’t have to thank me," she says with a shrug. "It’s my job to tend to your needs in any way I can. Even if it’s something as simple as lending you an ear."

A warm feeling spreads through my chest.

"What is your name?" I ask.

"Opal, Your Majesty."

"Opal," I repeat slowly, nodding to myself.

A genuine smile spreads across my face. "That’s a beautiful name."

Her cheeks turn slightly pink. "Not as beautiful as yours."

A soft laugh escapes me. "I think you’re just being polite."

"I only speak the truth, Your Majesty."

Before I can respond, a sudden knock sounds at the doors.

My smile fades as Opal and I exchange a glance.

"Come in," I call out.

The door opens slowly, and the moment those familiar golden eyes lock with mine, my heart sinks to the bottom of my stomach.