THRONS OF THE CROWN

Chapter 17: Vanguard of the Fallen

The Opportunistic Hawk

Seriane hesitated as Rhyen beckoned her with an almost predatory smile. Something about his demeanor always unsettled her—too polished, too calculated, like a snake lying in wait. Against her better judgment, she signaled to Edien, catching his eye with a subtle nod. He understood immediately, slipping into the shadows to follow at a safe distance.

Rhyen led her to his private chamber, his boots echoing ominously against the cold stone floors. Once inside, he closed the door with a deliberate click, the sound more final than it should have been. He turned to face her, his lips curling into a smirk.

"You know, Miss Seriane," he began, his voice dripping with mock civility, "for someone who is merely a scholar, you have quite a knack for stirring intrigue."

Seriane stood her ground, though her heart thudded against her ribs. "What are you trying to say, my lord?"

Rhyen stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace. "From the moment I met you, my interest has been... piqued. There's something about you, something irresistible." His tone darkened, and the sarcasm laced in his next words cut sharper than any blade. "And then there's my dear brother, Kael—the way he hovers over you, guards you like you're some priceless treasure. It makes me want to pull you closer, to snatch you away just to spite him."

Seriane stiffened, her fists curling tightly at her sides. "I'm afraid your interest is misplaced, Prince Rhyen. And I would advise you to remember the royal code of conduct. If you cross the line, you'll face the consequences of the constitution you claim to uphold."

Rhyen chuckled, a low, dangerous sound. "Ah, the constitution. Always the Constitution. It's a leash, you know. One that binds me while others roam free, pretending to be righteous. You and Kael always remind me of that—how I'm nothing but a dog in chains." He leaned closer, his smirk widening. "But even a dog can bite when pushed too far."

Seriane took a deliberate step back, putting distance between them. Her voice was steady but cold. "If you're trying to intimidate me, you're wasting your time."

She took a deep breath, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I am no one's possession, Prince Rhyen."

Rhyen tilted his head, his smile growing sly. "Possession? No. But protection, now that's another entirely different matter. With dear Kael gone, you'll be under my care. His words, not mine. And I don't know why a scholar like you even needs such protection, but I'm pleased to offer my... shelter."

Before Rhyen could respond, there was a sudden knock at the door. His jaw clenched in irritation, but he barked, "Enter."

The door opened to reveal Edien, his expression perfectly neutral but his eyes flickering with understanding. "Miss Seriane," he said smoothly, "Princess Zanira has requested your presence in her chambers."

Seriane seized the opportunity without hesitation, dipping her head politely toward Rhyen. "If you'll excuse me, my lord."

As she stepped past Edien, she caught a glimpse of Rhyen's face—anger simmering beneath his carefully maintained mask. The door closed behind them, and she exhaled slowly, her fists finally unclenching.

Edien stepped beside her, his voice low and laced with irritation. "I don't trust him, prince Kael wouldn't leave you in his care for sure."

"Neither do I trust him, Prince kael would have told me this beforehand, Rhyen he's scheming something," Seriane replied, her tone equally grim. "But next time, I won't need an excuse to walk away. If he crosses the line again, I'll ensure he regrets it."