Chapter Text
Prologue
The Antivan courtyard was alive with sound—steel striking steel, barked commands, and the rustling of fabric as assassins moved with ghostly precision. For all its beauty, the De Riva estate was a place of knives hidden behind silk smiles.
Lucanis Dellamorte moved through the grounds with Caterina at his side. Her presence was a storm contained within scarlet robes, her gaze sharp enough to flay a man. She led him with quiet authority, unbothered by his silence. Lucanis, for his part, played his role—watching, learning, calculating.
“This way,” Caterina said, gesturing toward the training courtyard with a flick of her ring-clad hand. “There’s something I want you to see.”
As they rounded the corner, laughter floated toward them, light and unguarded. It startled Lucanis. Rarely did sound carry such warmth in places like this. Caterina’s lip curled—half-amused, half-exasperated.
At the center of the courtyard stood two figures: Teia, her expression dry and bemused as always, and a younger woman whose laugh rang like bells.
Seraphina.
Lucanis didn’t know her name yet, but she commanded his attention immediately. Her smile was wide, uninhibited—a rarity among the Crows. She leaned casually on a training sword, chatting animatedly with Teia. The two shared a familiarity that defied the rigid rules of the guild.
“She’s still talking instead of training, isn’t she?” Caterina muttered under her breath, though there was no real heat in it. “Wild as ever.”
Lucanis glanced at her, arching a brow. “And this… is impressive to you?”
“You haven’t seen her fight yet.” Caterina’s smirk deepened. “Now stop gawking and watch.”
At a signal from Teia, she straightened, her carefree demeanor sharpening in an instant. She slid into a stance that was equal parts graceful and deadly, her movements fluid as water. When the spar began, she didn’t fight like the others Lucanis had seen. There was no hesitation, no brute strength. Her strikes were lightning—fast, deliberate, and precise—her blade slipping past Teia’s guard more than once.
Lucanis’s breath stilled as he watched her.
This woman fought like the sea itself—unpredictable, beautiful, and lethal. Her steps wove between offense and defense in a dance that made the fight look effortless. She was a Crow, yes, but there was something more in the way she moved—a spark of life that hadn’t yet been snuffed out by the weight of their world.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Caterina’s voice broke through his reverie. She sounded satisfied, as though she had known all along that Rook would have this effect. “Fast, elegant, and talented. She’s Viago’s sister, though you wouldn’t know it from how often she rolls around in the dirt.”
“She doesn’t look like a noble,” Lucanis murmured, though his eyes never left Rook.
“Turned her back on the palace snakes when she was still a child,” Caterina replied, a rare note of approval in her tone. “Imagine that—a girl who could’ve had everything, choosing a blade over a crown.”
Lucanis let the words settle. He could see it now—there was no stiffness to her form, none of the gilded arrogance that noble-born assassins often carried. She was wild, as Caterina had said, but there was no recklessness in her strikes. Only purpose.
The spar ended with Teia disarmed, laughing as she yielded. Seraphina grinned triumphantly and flicked her training sword over her shoulder as though she hadn’t just outmatched one of the finest Crows. Her dark hair fell loose around her face, framing sharp features softened by her smile.
It was then that she looked up, as if sensing the weight of his gaze. Their eyes met—just for a breath, but it was enough to unsettle him.
For the first time in years, Lucanis felt something unfamiliar stir within him. A pull.
“You’re staring again,” Caterina chided, though her tone was wry. “Careful, Lucanis. She’s not one to be tamed.”
He tore his eyes away, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Who said I’d want to?”
Caterina chuckled. “Good. That’s what I like to hear. You’re too clever to waste your time chasing things you can’t keep.”
But as they turned to leave, Lucanis couldn’t help glancing back at Seraphina one last time. She had already returned to her laughing conversation with Teia, wild and unburdened in a way he didn’t know how to be.
For a moment, Lucanis wondered what it would be like to carry such freedom.
And, for the first time in longer than he cared to admit, he found himself hoping he’d see her again.