Chapter five: The weight of greens and Crowns

The morning sun cast a soft glow over the long dining table in House Ravensworth’s breakfast hall. Golden beams filtered through the stained-glass windows, dappling the polished wooden floor in shifting patterns of light. The soft clinking of silverware and the aroma of warm bread and spiced tea filled the space.

Lady Seraphina sat in her usual seat beside her mother, the Duchess, who smiled gently as she stirred honey into her tea. The Duke, seated at the head of the table, read the day’s brief dispatches with furrowed brows. Across from them sat Dame Morwen Barristan and her daughter, Lady Isolde, both elegant and composed. Lancelot, present only as a guest and not in uniform, sat quietly, his expression unreadable.

And then, at the far end of the table—back straight, but cheeks puffed in annoyance—sat Prince Axton Bowen Carolangian.

He was scowling at his plate.

"I don’t want to eat the greens," he muttered under his breath, pushing the steamed vegetables with his fork like they were enemies on a battlefield.

The Duchess chuckled softly, clearly amused. “You’re too old to still be fussy, Axton.”

Seraphina smiled warmly. “Eat your greens, little prince. Or do you need me to spoon-feed you like Mother used to when you refused your porridge?”

Axton groaned dramatically. “You promised you wouldn’t bring that up again.”

The room erupted in light laughter, but Seraphina’s smile dimmed just slightly as her thoughts drifted to the moment earlier that morning…

She had been walking toward the hall, ready to greet the morning, when she ran into him. Quite literally.

Prince Axton had turned a corner with his usual ease and nearly collided with her. He stepped back, blinking in surprise before his lips curled into a grin.

“Lady Seraphina,” he greeted her, voice light. Then, after a beat, he added, “Sister, why do you not wish to wed my brother?”

Seraphina paused. Her hands folded neatly in front of her, her expression calm but cool.

“It is Lady Seraphina now,” she said. “No longer sister. I am not marrying the Crown Prince anymore.”

Axton tilted his head, studying her face. “Do you not wish to be queen?”

Her steps slowed. “I was never in it for the crown, but for love. And love…” She glanced away. “Love is not there. So I have no need to be queen.”

“Do you think my brother unworthy?” Axton asked, his voice softer now.

She let out a small breath. “He is the Crown Prince because he was born first. But this kingdom…” Her eyes flicked toward him. “This kingdom will suffer because of him.”

That made Axton quiet.

After a long moment, he gestured to his guards. “Leave us. We’ll walk to breakfast together.”

Once alone, his usual playfulness returned. “Sister, whatever do you mean?”

She looked at him sideways and smiled faintly. “Can’t tell. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He whined in a theatrical voice, as he often did when he didn’t get his way. “You always keep secrets from me. That’s so unfair.”

She chuckled. Just a little.

Back in the present, a sudden surge of magic ripped through the breakfast hall.

The chandelier above flickered wildly. Plates rattled. Cutlery clanged. The air turned thick, charged with a humming energy that prickled against the skin. A goblet near Lancelot shattered.

Before anyone could react, Axton sprang from his chair and reached across the table—shielding Seraphina with his body.

“Stay down!” he barked, voice sharp and protective.

The wave of magic passed as quickly as it came, dissipating into a heavy silence.

Everyone remained frozen for a beat, eyes wide, breaths held. Then the Duke shot to his feet.

“Guards!” he barked. “Find the source—now!”

Axton straightened, breathing hard. “That wasn’t normal. That wasn’t just residual energy from the wards.”

“Someone released magic nearby,” Dame Morwen murmured, rising from her seat, her eyes narrowed in a calculating expression.

Seraphina's fingers clutched the edge of the table. Her heart raced.

This is how it started last time... The unexplained magic. The disturbances. And then—Ravensworth fell.

The Duke turned to her with urgency in his eyes. “Seraphina, stay here with your mother. You are not to leave the hall.”

“No,” she said sharply, standing. “I need to go with you.”

The room fell silent again.

The Duke’s brows furrowed. “You’ll be safer here.”

“I remember what happened the last time something like this was ignored,” Seraphina said, her voice low but firm. “Please, Father. I must see for myself.”

Her mother touched her arm gently. “Darling…”

She turned to her. “If I stay and something happens again, I’ll never forgive myself.”

The Duke looked at her long and hard. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Fine. But you stay by my side.”

Seraphina nodded, her jaw tight. As she stepped out into the corridor with her father and the guards, her thoughts burned with one certainty:

History will not repeat itself. Not this time.

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