Chapter 16
SERAPHINA
The banquet hall buzzes with conversation and laughter as nobles from all four kingdoms mingle. I stand near the eastern wall, a glass of wine I haven’t touched warming in my hand, watching the crowd with forced calm.
Since the opening ceremony yesterday, I’ve been hyperaware of Kieran’s presence in the palace. Every glimpse of him across crowded rooms intensifies that impossible pull, while Luna whines constantly about our mate being so close yet untouchable.
I’ve kept Azriel far from the main halls, terrified of a chance encounter that would unravel five years of secrets.
“You’re doing that thing again,” Elena murmurs beside me, her own glass raised to her lips.
“What thing?”
“That thing where you look like you’re about to bolt.” She nods toward the crowd. “Relax. He’s on the other side of the room talking to the Southern delegation. You’re fine.”
I glance across the hall and find him immediately, because of course I do. Kieran stands with a group of Southern nobles, his posture rigid, his expression the same cold mask he’s worn since the tournament began. He hasn’t looked at me once since that first moment in the arena.
He’s pretending I don’t exist.
Good. That makes two of us.
“I need to check on Azriel,” I say abruptly, setting my untouched wine on a passing servant’s tray. “He’s been in the children’s area for hours.”
“The caregivers have him,” Elena reminds me, her expression softening. “He’s fine.”
“I know. But I promised I’d come get him before the evening festivities end.” I’m already moving toward the door, desperate for an excuse to leave this suffocating room. “I’ll be right back.”
I slip out before she can protest, grateful to escape the oppressive atmosphere of forced diplomacy and fake smiles. The corridor outside is blissfully empty and quiet.
The children’s area is in the family wing, far enough from the main festivities that the noble children can play without disturbing their parents’ negotiations. It’s a large room filled with toys, books, and several attentive caregivers who watch over the youngest members of the court.
When I arrive, the door is slightly ajar, and I can hear children’s laughter inside. My chest loosens. Azriel’s laugh stands out among the others, bright and uninhibited in a way he never is around strangers.
He’s usually so careful, so aware of his place as a “ward” in the Eastern Court. The noble children tolerate him because of me, but they never fully accept him. He’s learned to be quiet, polite, almost invisible in crowds.
But here, in the safety of the children’s area where rank matters less, he’s free to just be a child.
I push the door open and scan the room. There are perhaps a dozen children ranging from toddlers to young teenagers, all playing various games. The caregivers stand along the walls, ready to intervene if needed.
Then I spot him.
Azriel is in the corner, crouched on the floor with building blocks scattered around him. He’s constructing something elaborate—a castle, maybe, or a fortress. His dark head is bent in concentration, and even from across the room, I can see his tongue poking out slightly, the way it always does when he’s focused.
But he’s not alone.
A tall figure crouches beside him, broad shoulders hunched to fit at child-height. My heart stops.
No.
Kieran’s back is to me, but I’d recognize that silver-streaked black hair anywhere, that commanding presence even when he’s folded down to a five-year-old’s level. He’s saying something to Azriel, pointing at the blocks, and my son is nodding enthusiastically.
Terror freezes me in place.
This can’t be happening. Kieran isn’t supposed to be here. He has no reason to wander into the children’s area. He doesn’t have kids, doesn’t care about—
Azriel looks up at something Kieran says, and even from across the room, I see it. Those ice-blue eyes meet identical ones. The same sharp features. The same angle of the jaw.
My son, looking at his father for the first time.
And he has no idea.
Luna goes absolutely insane in my mind. “Our mate. He’s with our pup. They’re together—this is what we’ve needed.”
“No,” I snap back at her, my legs finally unfreezing. “This is a disaster.”
I cross the room quickly, my heart pounding so hard I can barely hear over it. Neither of them notices me approaching. Azriel is too excited about whatever he’s building, and Kieran is too focused on my son.
Our son.
“—impressive engineering for someone your age,” Kieran is saying, his voice that same deep rumble I remember from five years ago. Something in my chest cracks at the sound of it. “You have good spatial reasoning.”
“Thank you, sir,” Azriel says politely, the way I’ve taught him to address nobility. His little face is lit up with pride at the compliment. “Do you like building things too?”
“I prefer destroying them, typically.” There’s the barest hint of dark humor in Kieran’s tone. “But I can appreciate good construction when I see it.”
Azriel giggles at the Ice King’s grim joke, and the sound makes my throat tighten. He sounds so happy, so comfortable with this stranger who’s crouched beside him.
If only he knew.
“Azriel.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend.
Both of them turn toward me, and the world narrows to three people.
Kieran rises to his full height slowly, meeting my eyes with an intensity that steals my breath.
“Mama!” Azriel bounces to his feet, grinning. He’s completely oblivious to the tension crackling between the adults. “Look what I built! This man was helping me. He knows all about fortresses and defensive architecture and—”
“It’s time to go, sweetheart.” I move to his side and place my hand on his shoulder, positioning myself between him and Kieran. “Say goodbye.”
“But I’m not finished—”
“Now, Azriel.”
Something in my tone must register because he stops protesting.
He turns back to Kieran and gives a little bow, gods, when did I teach him to bow like that? “Thank you for your help, sir. It was nice to meet you.”
Kieran doesn’t respond immediately. He’s staring at Azriel with an intensity that makes me want to grab my son and run. His eyes trace every feature, the dark hair, the pale skin, the ice-blue eyes, not with confusion, but with possessive certainty.
“Say goodbye, Azriel,” I repeat, my hand tightening on my son’s shoulder hard enough that he squirms slightly.
“Goodbye,” Azriel chirps, then tugs on my hand. “Can we go get dessert before bed?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Let’s go.” My voice sounds steadier than I feel.
I turn to leave, desperate to get Azriel away from here, away from Kieran’s calculating stare. But Kieran’s voice stops me before I’ve taken two steps.
“Princess Seraphina.” His tone is perfectly neutral. But I hear the edge underneath, sharp as a blade. “How old is your ward?”
Ward. The word cuts through me like a blade.
I don’t turn around. Can’t bear to see his face, to see the accusation and fury I know will be there. “Five. He turned five last month.”
The silence that follows is deafening. I can practically hear Kieran doing the math, counting back the months to when we—
To that one night. The claiming. The marking. The desperate passion that neither of us could resist.
The night that created Azriel.
“Interesting,” he says, something dangerous in his voice. “Very interesting timing.”
My hand tightens on Azriel’s shoulder, and he looks up at me with confusion in those damning ice-blue eyes. “Mama? Why does the man sound angry?”
“He’s not angry, baby.” The lie comes easily after five years of practice. “He’s just surprised.”
“Surprised about what?”
“Nothing important.” I force myself to start walking again, pulling Azriel toward the door. “Let’s go get that dessert.”
We make it three steps before Kieran speaks again.
“He has your chin.” His voice is still controlled, but barely. Each word sounds like it’s being torn from his throat. “And your mother’s nose.”
I freeze. Luna whimpers in my mind, torn between the instinct to protect our pup and the desperate need to go to our mate.
Azriel, oblivious to the tension, tugs on my hand again. “Mama? Can we go?”
“But his eyes.” A pause that feels like an eternity. “His eyes are Northern.”
The accusation hangs in the air between us, unspoken but crystal clear.
My heart stops. Luna howls in agony, knowing we’ve been caught, knowing the secret we’ve guarded for five years has just been ripped open.
“Yes, baby.” My voice comes out strangled. I can’t look back. If I look back, if I see his face, I’ll either break apart or say something I can’t take back. “Let’s go.”
I don’t look back as I leave the children’s area, practically dragging Azriel behind me. But I can feel Kieran’s stare burning into my back, can sense his shock and fury rolling off him in waves even from across the room.
The bond—the supposedly dead bond—pulses between us like an open wound.
He knows.
After five years of hiding, of protecting this secret with everything I have, Kieran knows he has a son.
And I have no idea what he’s going to do about it.
