Kaelith woke up already annoyed.
That was usually a reliable sign the day had plans for her.
For one disorienting second she lay still beneath the sheets, staring at the canopy above her bed while morning light filtered through the curtains in soft gold lines.
Then memory returned all at once.
The capital.
Today.
With Irielle.
And, supposedly, Ruby and Violet as buffers against disaster.
Kaelith groaned and threw one arm over her eyes.
This was ridiculous.
She had taken women into the demon capital before.
She knew every good restaurant worth the money, every wine bar worth the bad decisions, every rooftop worth the view, every market street worth the chaos, every pastry shop worth committing minor crimes for.
The city was practically her second skin.
So why, exactly, did it feel as though she had swallowed a small live animal overnight?
Absolutely not.
She sat up sharply, offended by the direction of her own nerves.
No.
She was not nervous.
She was irritated.
Mildly inconvenienced.
Perhaps psychologically ambushed by her family’s coordinated meddling.
But nervous?
Never.
Kaelith swung her legs off the bed and headed straight for the bath chamber before her thoughts could become any more embarrassing.
The shower helped a little.
Cold water first, then warmer, steam filling the room while she scrubbed away the last softness of sleep and tried to pretend she was preparing for a routine day.
Just a trip to the capital.
Just a woman she was legally married to and still very much intended to divorce.
Just a woman who looked unfairly good in combat clothes.
Kaelith closed her eyes under the water.
No.
She was not doing this.
When she stepped back into her room with a towel slung low around her hips and damp hair dripping down her shoulders, she expected the worst of the morning to be behind her.
She was wrong.
Because now came the real problem.
What the hell was she supposed to wear?
Kaelith stood in front of her wardrobe and stared into its depths as if the answer might rise from the silk and leather like a vision granted to suffering women.
Usually dressing was the easy part.
The fun part.
The one part of life that never betrayed her because clothes, unlike people, always told the truth if you knew how to look at them.
Today, apparently, her wardrobe had chosen violence.
Too formal.
Too casual.
Too sharp.
Too soft.
Too much like she was trying.
Too much like she was not trying enough.
Kaelith yanked out a fitted black jacket, held it against herself, and scowled.
It looked too calculated.
She tossed it onto the bed.
A deep red shirt came next.
A white one.
Too innocent.
A dark green coat.
Too regal.
She froze halfway through reaching for another option and stared at herself in the mirror.
“Are you stressing?” she demanded of her reflection.
The reflection, unhelpfully, looked like a beautiful liar.
Kaelith narrowed her eyes.
“No,” she said aloud.
“Absolutely not.”
She said it with enough force that it might almost have become true.
Eventually she landed on something that felt acceptable and, more importantly, did not make her want to set the room on fire.
Black trousers, fitted properly because she still had standards.
A dark charcoal shirt left open just enough at the throat to look effortless and not at all like she had spent fifteen stupid minutes deciding whether effortless should look slightly more dangerous today.
A light coat over it, tailored, expensive, not too formal, with enough structure to remind the world she was still Kaelith and not some flustered fool dressing for…
anything.
There was no anything.
She was taking her wife to the capital.
That was all.
That sentence did nothing good for her pulse.
Kaelith dragged a brush through her hair and left it mostly loose, just enough tamed to suggest intention rather than sleep.
Rings.
Boots.
One chain at her throat.
Done.
When she stepped back from the mirror at last, she looked good.
Obviously.
That helped a little.
She headed for the main hall expecting noise before she even got there.
Ruby and Violet never waited quietly for anything.
If they were coming on the trip, Kaelith should have heard them halfway down the corridor, probably arguing about pastries or whether they could trick Irielle into trying something ridiculous in the city.
Instead, the hall was quiet.
Well, not quiet exactly.
The castle never truly was.
Servants crossed the polished floor with flowers, a pair of guards spoke softly near the outer doors, morning light spilled through the high windows and turned the black stone warm.
But the twins were nowhere in sight.
Only Irielle.
She stood near one of the tall pillars with the composed stillness of a woman who made waiting look like an art form.
She wore a dark fitted traveling dress beneath a lighter outer coat, the lines of it elegant and practical all at once.
Her blond hair was pinned back neatly today, a few pale strands left loose to soften nothing at all because her face remained every bit as cool as it always was.
Kaelith stopped.
This, she thought instantly, was not ideal.
She had expected Ruby’s bright chaos and Violet’s dry commentary to soak up the strangeness.
Instead there was just Irielle, the morning, and the fact that Kaelith had dressed with suspicious care for a day that was suddenly looking far too intimate.
Kaelith cleared her throat and stepped fully into the hall.
“Where are the others?”
Irielle turned her head toward her.
Only that.
Nothing more.
No smile. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
No obvious surprise.
Just that clear green gaze lifting to meet hers with maddening calm.
“I don’t know,” Irielle said.
Kaelith blinked.
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
That felt like a very unhelpful beginning to the day.
Before Kaelith could say anything else, one of the servants approached with the air of someone delivering unfortunate but well-organized news.
“Your Highness,” she said with a bow, glancing between them.
“Lady Ruby and Lady Violet sent word that they could not come.
They said they completely forgot they have an assignment due tomorrow.”
Silence.
Kaelith stared at the servant.
The servant, wisely, kept her face blank.
Assignment.
Tomorrow.
Those two absolute little demons had abandoned her for homework.
No.
Worse.
They had abandoned her for an excuse involving homework, which meant they had done it on purpose.
Probably while laughing.
Probably together.
Probably convinced they were doing something useful for her emotional growth.
Kaelith closed her eyes for one brief second.
When she opened them again, the servant had already retreated to a safe distance.
Sensible woman.
Irielle said nothing.
Of course she didn’t.
She was probably too elegant to laugh directly in Kaelith’s face.
That did not mean she wasn’t enjoying this on some cold, private level.
Kaelith looked at her, trying to decide whether the slight stillness in her posture was discomfort, amusement, or merely readiness for whatever ridiculousness came next.
Probably all three.
The hall suddenly felt too large.
Too bright.
Too aware of them.
Kaelith could hear the blood in her own ears, could feel the shape of the day rearranging itself in real time.
No Ruby.
No Violet.
No buffers.
No interruptions.
Just her and Irielle in the demon capital for however many hours family outings and expensive lunches and city detours decided to become.
Fuck.
Kaelith stood there for a moment longer, hands in the pockets of her coat, weighing her options.
She could refuse.
She could claim urgent business.
She could turn around, go back upstairs, and throw herself dramatically out a window.
But that would only give Malvoria satisfaction, Ruby ammunition, Violet a reason to look unbearably right, and Irielle one more reason to think Kaelith was a coward.
Absolutely not.
Kaelith drew in a quiet breath, looked at Irielle properly, and said, with all the dignity she could drag back onto her face:
“Let’s just go.”