I find myself awake—early, I think. There are no clocks in this room.

  I sigh, eyes tracing the wooden beams overhead. The space feels far too large for just one person.

  My head lolls to the side, arms stretched out, hands empty.

  I linger there for a moment, letting the feeling settle, before pushing myself upright. I dig my toiletries from my pack and spend some time taming my hair, making myself presentable.

  When I’m done, I fold the white robe neatly and set it atop the table, my fingers lingering on the smooth fabric one last time. My gaze drifts to my armor.

  I suppose it’s elegant enough to attend a wedding. It’s not like I have many alternatives.

  I don it and step out, leaving my pack behind for now.

  Outside, the mansion is already alive with motion. Servants hurry through the halls carrying furniture, all of it bound for the shoreline.

  “Hey, cove,” I call, spotting Veil—the only familiar face waiting outside.

  He scoffs at my mimicry, though a tired smile tugs at his mouth.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “What, couldn’t sleep by yourself?” I tease.

  “Can’t rest when there’s better things t’ be done, cove. An’ I sure did a few o’ those,” he replies, weary but self-satisfied.

  “…Cinna’s going to be mad at you,” I say with a scoff.

  “She won’t know,” he says, winking.

  Seems I really did wake up early. It takes a while before anyone else appears.

  Ulric emerges from his room looking well-rested—though not particularly pleased. Without a word, he strides over to Veil and pulls him into a crushing bear hug, lifting him clean off the ground.

  “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t get a lick o’ sleep,” Veil mutters.

  I chuckle softly and look away.

  Kiereth joins us soon after, dressed in his usual robes. I sigh.

  “Such a waste,” I remark, glancing him up and down deliberately.

  “Ah… yes,” he replies serenely. “I suppose the arrangement of rooms was not the most efficient.”

  Definitely not what I meant.

  Cinna hums contentedly as she steps out of her room, looking like she’s just returned from a vacation in heaven.

  “…Right. Which room is Cattleya in?” I ask. There must be twenty doors along this corridor.

  Ulric points as he sets Veil back down.

  I offer Cinna a smile as she passes. She answers with a mischievous little snicker.

  Next time we sleep together, I am absolutely pinching her.

  Cattleya’s room is much like mine. I suppose they’re all identical.

  The sight inside is familiar—peacefully asleep, hugging a pillow close.

  Instead of waking her, I just… stare.

  Questions pile up uninvited. What was behind those frowns? Why was she sad, even while being pampered? What happened?

  I lower myself onto the mattress beside her, careful not to disturb, eyes lingering on the back of her head.

  There’s no real purpose to those questions. Nothing would change. I couldn’t use the answers to fix anything.

  So why do I want them anyway?

  I sigh softly and roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling once more.

  Then I look back at her—and for a moment my heart nearly stops.

  She’s awake. Watching me—so close I can feel the warmth of her breath. Violet eyes fixed on mine, lips slightly parted.

  Time seems to stretch as we stare at each other in silence.

  “…Morning,” I manage, forcing an awkward smile.

  That single word is enough.

  Her tail springs up, that easy smile returning as if nothing was ever wrong. Relief washes through me.

  “Morning,” she says brightly, already pushing herself up.

  I close my eyes, letting the tension drain out of me.

  When I open them again, she’s halfway through changing. I hurriedly snap my gaze away and scramble to my feet, already heading for the door.

  “Tidy up, okay? Everyone’s waiting,” I call without looking back.

  “Mm.”

  We’re soon guided toward the shoreline, servants assembling tables and cushions as the ceremony space slowly takes shape.

  Further down the coast, a group of Seryth men warm up near the water—stretching, checking spears.

  “The first trial,” Teshan explains, gesturing toward them. “The groom must return with a fully grown blackfin, armed with nothing but a spear.”

  His hand shifts toward a nearby open-air kitchen being assembled.

  “It will feed all our guests,” he continues with evident pride. “Proof of his resourcefulness.”

  “So this really does take all day…” I murmur. “Where is Nodo-Ren during all of this?”

  “Ah. The bride will join us shortly after the meal,” Teshan replies. “She will receive gifts and blessings, then demonstrate her gratitude and femininity through dance.”

  We exchange quiet looks.

  “Is there anything we can assist with,” Ulric asks, “or should we just—” he gestures toward the seating.

  “Please take the western seats,” Teshan says with a reverent bow. “The eastern ones are reserved for guests from the fatherland.”

  We settle onto the cushions along a long table, an identical arrangement mirrored across the ceremonial space.

  “I suppose she’ll walk down that path,” I muse, tracing the route from the mansion to the shore.

  “I want a ceremony just like this,” Cinna says dreamily, already imagining alterations.

  “And you want your future spouse to catch a giant fish too?” Ulric asks, incredulous.

  “Maybe not a fish,” she hums. “But trials do sound fun. Make them suffer for my sake.”

  Her eyes flick to Veil.

  “As long as yer not doin’ anythin’ wasteful like these folk,” Veil mutters.

  Cinna pats his arm gently.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I turn to Cattleya—she’s wide-eyed, curious, excited—I feel a silly smile spread across my face before I can stop it.

  She smiles back.

  “Do you want a ceremony like this too, Imo?” she asks innocently.

  I freeze, breath catching.

  A quiet giggle sounds to my left.

  “Well… I used to dream about things like this when I was younger,” I say, shrugging. “Figured only special people get lucky. Like her.”

  “Nothin’ special ’bout bein’ born filthy rich,” Veil mutters.

  Before anyone can say anything else, a servant approaches.

  “Do you have any offerings for the ceremony?” she asks, bowing respectfully.

  Kiereth stands and produces a small frog sculpture, carved from solid stone.

  “Please,” he says softly. “For the bride.”

  The servant examines the sculpture with quiet curiosity, then bows and places it among the offerings.

  The morning drifts by in idle chatter. Tea and light snacks are served. As conversations rise and fall around us, I feel a small tug at my pants.

  I glance down.

  Cattleya’s hand has snuck its way to my side, fingers clinging to me as discreetly as she can manage. I can’t help but chuckle softly under my breath.

  Yeah… today is going to be a good day.

  The groom returns, triumphant, dragging a massive fish across the sand toward the kitchens. Cheers rise as he and his companions disappear back into the mansion. Servants begin preparing the catch.

  Not long after, they reemerge dressed in fine robes and take their seats across from us, the groom settling at the far end. Before long, our meals are served.

  Cattleya peers down at hers, brow furrowed.

  “Did they… forget to cook the fish?” Cinna asks innocently.

  Veil answers with a roaring cackle, already digging in.

  “Just t’ way things are ’round ’ere, cove. Enjoy it. It’s pretty damn good.”

  After his encouragement, Cattleya tries it. Her eyes widen instantly, expression melting into bliss. I find myself watching her a moment longer than I mean to.

  Until Kiereth draws my attention.

  He hasn’t touched his meal. His gaze lingers on it, distant and heavy. I return to my own food, still watching him from the corner of my eye.

  Then he looks up—toward the path.

  I follow his gaze.

  Nodo-Ren emerges, walking slowly down the long stretch from the mansion. She’s dressed in pure white, a long shawl trailing behind her, scales catching the sunlight as she moves.

  A quiet murmur ripples through the gathering. Nodo stops at a respectful distance and offers a deep bow before proceeding toward the offerings.

  Her movements are precise. Practiced. Empty.

  She examines each gift in turn, turns to meet the giver’s gaze, then kneels and bows her head in thanks.

  An ornate comb. Jewelry. Engraved seashells. A mirror set in jade.

  Each receives the same treatment—the same absence of emotion.

  Then we hear it—

  a soft, broken sob.

  Servants rush toward her as she braces herself against the table, doing everything she can to remain dignified, even as the sound slips free. It takes her a moment to compose herself.

  When she does, they step back.

  Her gaze lifts—straight to Kiereth.

  Her expression hardens. She kneels, bows her head.

  I see how tightly he clenches his jaw.

  As she finishes, a cart rolls down the path.

  Our cart.

  “Huh,” Ulric mutters. “Was wonderin’ what was in there.”

  We all nod, curiosity shared.

  Nodo steps closer and places a hand against the cart. A pulse of magic ripples outward. The wooden panels fold away, revealing its contents.

  A massive serpent statue coils upon itself, carved from rich green stone. Every scale is rendered with obsessive care.

  Murmurs ripple through the crowd.

  “Master Edgar…” Cinna breathes. “His craftsmanship is incredible. I can feel the Vire from here.”

  Then—

  Nodo’s eyes flash red.

  Bright. Violent. Nothing like the pale blue from before.

  Kiereth stiffens.

  As if answering her, the statue’s hollow eyes ignite in the same crimson glow. Stone groans. The serpent uncoils, rising high.

  “Is the gift actually one of Master Edgar’s golems?” Cinna asks, smiling faintly.

  Veil answers with a sharp, irritated grunt.

  A cold weight settles in my gut.

  Cattleya notices it—or maybe she notices me.

  My thoughts drift for half a second—

  Gasps tear through the crowd.

  I snap my gaze back just in time to see the serpent coil around Nodo. She opens her arms and accepts it.

  Her expression twists.

  The calm is gone.

  In its place: a wide, manic grin. Eyes blown wide. Fingers curling like claws.

  The serpent tightens—and dissolves, collapsing into red mist that seeps into her skin.

  Applause breaks out.

  Nodo’s smile vanishes. She scowls toward the sound.

  With a single, lazy swing of her arm, a large serpent bursts from her flesh and slams into a man nearby. Its jaws close—and he’s gone, crushed into a spray of blood.

  “The hell?” Ulric shouts as the Chariot snaps to attention.

  “Kihiro…” she calls, voice deep, reverent, terrible.

  Another guest tries to flee.

  The serpent strikes again—faster. Jaws clamp down. Legs severed cleanly as the man screams.

  “You are too late, Kihiro,” she says, almost amused.

  The serpent glows brighter as it feeds, Vire flowing back into her in pulsing waves.

  “How long has it been?” she continues, voice light, cruel. “Those false… empty promises.”

  Panic erupts. Guests scatter. The serpent hunts them down while Nodo remains still, her red gaze fixed on us.

  “Sarnai, please,” Kiereth pleads as he vaults the table, landing before her. “Please… stop this.”

  The serpent keeps killing even as he stands there.

  “OI!” Ulric roars. “Care to explain what the fuck’s goin’ on?”

  His glare snaps to me. I flinch.

  “I—I don’t really know,” I admit.

  “You are an awful, evil man,” Nodo says calmly. “Everything that happened is your fault.”

  She reaches for Kiereth’ cheek.

  Not to caress.

  Her claws rake downward, tearing flesh.

  Ulric charges, shield raised.

  Nodo’s hand snaps away from Kiereth and slams into the shield with a clenched fist. Metal caves inward. Ulric is thrown back.

  Kiereth stumbles, collapsing to the ground.

  “’Ric!” Veil shouts, rushing to him.

  “What the hell was that?” Ulric mutters, staring at the dent in his shield.

  “She—she…” Cinna falters.

  “She’s absorbing the Vire of all the guests,” Cinna says at last, her voice trembling. “They’re empowering her. This is wrong—on every level.”

  She remains frozen, uncertain what to do.

  Kiereth surges forward and pulls Nodo into a tight embrace.

  “Please, Sarnai…” His voice cracks. “Please. I wanted to return, but I couldn’t. You promised me—you promised you would never do this again.”

  He pulls back just enough to grip her shoulders, his golden gaze locked onto her crimson one.

  “You promised her,” he pleads.

  For a heartbeat, it almost works.

  Her expression softens as she’s held—something old flickering across her face.

  But the serpent never stops moving.

  As Teshan rushes from the mansion, shouting in confusion, the serpent snaps toward him without hesitation. Its jaws clamp down, and a red mist erupts on impact.

  “You left,” she says quietly. “You promised you wouldn’t—but you did. You could have stopped it. You could have stopped it all.”

  Her hand rises and closes around Kiereth’ throat, tightening with brutal precision.

  “Now I will protect her,” she continues, voice steady and absolute. “All threats to her happiness will die. You most of all.”

  Kiereth gasps, hands trembling—but he doesn’t fight it. He accepts it.

  Before I can form a conscious plan, my body is already moving.

  Vire gathers into my left hand—not in my palm, but around it, encasing it. A dense sheath forms as I reinforce it again and again, pouring everything I have into the structure while I still can.

  She notices us.

  Her left leg shifts.

  I anticipate the sharp snap of her right knee—Prim intercepts it, and together we slam into her.

  For a split second, I see it—

  bottomless, unfettered rage burning behind her eyes.

  Then my left fist drives into her abdomen, crashing through both physical and magical defenses.

  I seize the displaced Vire—threads severed by the impact—and compress them. Crystal resonance surges.

  It detonates.

  The blast hurls her backward, sending her skidding across the sand and into the sea with a thunderous splash.

  The serpent vanishes.

  Guests and servants scatter in all directions.

  “I want to know what the fuck is going on,” Ulric snarls, glaring at me—then snaps his attention toward the ocean. “But first—Chariot. Let’s finish this.”

  We move at once, falling into formation.

  Cattleya looks at me with open awe as I step beside her.

  “Remember what we did last time,” I say.

  She doesn’t need more. Her sword tip strikes the ground with a dull, resolute thump.

  “Old man,” I call to Kiereth, “if you really care about her—take this seriously. If we don’t get her to stand down…”

  I don’t finish the sentence.

  I don’t have to.

  Kiereth rises. Red marks still burn around his throat, but he looks unharmed—more than that, he looks resolved.

  The water stirs.

  Nodo’s form emerges slowly from the sea.

  Her dress hangs in torn shreds, soaked through. Long white hair clings to her skin. Her eyes glow red, unmistakable even at this distance.

  There’s no way out of this.

  Not without a fight.