The air outside the Holy Temple was thick with the scent of incense and candle wax, a reminder of the divine presence that loomed over the empire. But only she knew the truth of that divine presence... Nothing but a hoax.
The streets were nearly empty at this hour, with only the occasional flicker of torchlight from patrolling guards. It was the perfect time for a secret meeting.
Annora stood beneath the arching stone entrance of a secluded garden behind the temple, a soft breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient oak trees that lined the garden’s perimeter.
Her thoughts were far from holy matters.
The Emperor had agreed.
In two weeks, she would be wed to Cassian.
She could already taste the victory on her lips.
Everything had fallen into place so neatly, as if fate itself was handing her the justice she had been denied in her past life. Cassian, the man who had cast her aside so easily, would become her greatest pawn. And the empire that had turned its back on her? She would make it kneel.
She did not care if there was infighting or a civil war for the succession of the throne. She intended to have her revenge. All her anger and resentment poured out.
A slow, almost wicked smile played at her lips.
The world had been cruel to her. Now, it was her turn.
And as for Benedict...
Her brown eyes darkened as she thought of him.
Her heart should have wavered at the memory of the man he had once been to her. After all, in her past life, he had loved her. Truly, deeply, in a way Cassian never had.
But what was the use of love when he had still abandoned her?
He had killed Adeline.
But then? He forced her to kill him, he made her a murderer.
She gripped the railing tighter, her nails digging into the rusted iron. The past clawed at her like a specter, whispering of broken promises and shattered dreams. But she would not be fooled again.
Benedict would be handled in due time.
The soft sound of footsteps approaching pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly schooled her expression into something softer, something that would fit the image of a woman torn between duty and heartache.
She turned just as Benedict emerged from the shadows.
His amber eyes flickered in the dim light. He had always been striking, regal in his own way. But tonight, there was something different about him—something guarded.
"You called for me," he said, his voice careful, measured.
Annora offered a small smile, one tinged with sadness. "I did."
Benedict took a step closer, his gaze searching her face. "Why?" His voice held an edge of something deeper—hurt, perhaps, or betrayal. "You made your choice, Annora. You chose Cassian."
She nearly faltered.
His pain was real.
And for the briefest of moments, she felt the ghost of her past self stirring within her.
There had been a time when Benedict’s love had been her solace. When his words had soothed her and his presence had been a comfort in a world that had turned against her.
But that was a lifetime ago.
And it had ended in blood.
So she swallowed down the bitterness rising in her throat and stepped closer to him, her movements slow and deliberate. She reached for his hand, her fingers brushing against his calloused palm before guiding it to her cheek.
She felt his sharp intake of breath.
"I am well," she whispered, her voice gentle, vulnerable. "And you? How have you been, Benedict?"
His fingers twitched against her skin, his gaze flickering with hesitation. "Annora..."
Her lips curved, just slightly. "Is this not what you wanted?"
Benedict exhaled sharply, his free hand balling into a fist at his side. "No," he admitted, his voice raw. "I wanted the truth."
She feigned conflict, letting her gaze drop as if she were struggling with her own emotions. It was an easy act—because in a way, there was truth to it.
She had loved him once.
But love was no longer her concern.
"Then I will tell you the truth," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
She lifted her gaze to meet his, her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I called you here for you," she confessed. "Because I saw how much this was hurting you, and it made me realise... I couldn’t bear it."
Benedict stilled.
His amber eyes searched hers, desperate, hesitant.
"...What are you saying?"
Annora let her fingers graze over his wrist, her touch featherlight. "I cannot say everything, not yet," she admitted, her voice laced with carefully crafted sorrow. "But know that I am doing this for you."
A war waged behind his eyes, conflict rippling across his features.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"I want to believe you," he said, his voice quieter now. "Even if you fed me poison with love I will gladly swallow it. So now... Even if I don’t know what to believe, I choose to believe you."
For a fleeting second, she thought of a different time. A different version of herself, one who might have crumbled under the weight of his words. One who might have fallen for the affection in his voice.
But that girl was gone.
Buried beneath the ashes of a life that had been stolen from her.
So instead of breaking, she smiled.
A small, sad smile. The kind that could make even the most hardened of hearts hesitate.
"Wait for me..."
Benedict’s jaw clenched, as if he was holding back words he dared not speak.
The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken things.
And then, finally, he pulled his hand away.
He hesitated for a moment longer before stepping back, disappearing into the night without another word.
Annora let out a slow breath, her fingers grazing the spot where his hand had been.
It had almost been too easy.
She had played the part well, just as she always did.
Benedict still wanted to believe in her.
And that would be his downfall.