Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

He did not have the capacity, nor the luxury, to harbor soft things.

Yet, as he looked at the smear of milk on her upper lip, a strange, wriggling sensation twisted in his chest.

It wasn’t pity.

Pity was an emotion he reserved for fools before he executed them. This was something possessive. Something fiercely, irrationally protective.

No, he ordered himself, his mental discipline snapping back into place like a steel trap. Focus. She is not a pet. She is an asset. And she is currently in the crosshairs of an empire.

Kaelus blinked, clearing the ridiculous domestic imagery from his mind. He reached out, taking the empty tray from her lap and setting it on the bedside table.

He stood up. The mattress groaned slightly in relief as his weight left it.

He walked over to the heavy oak writing desk across the room, picked up the velvet-cushioned chair, and carried it back to the bed. He set it down deliberately and seated himself, placing them at eye level.

”Seraphina,” Kaelus said. His voice was lower now, lacking the sharp, commanding edge he used with his knights, but it was incredibly serious.

Seraphina sat up straighter, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. She pulled the edges of the cape tighter around her neck. ”Yes, Papa Duke?”

”Drop the title for a moment. Listen to what I am about to tell you.” Kaelus leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his massive hands clasped loosely together.

”When I took you from the orphanage, I did not do it out of charity. I require a specific... piece on the board. We are traveling to the Imperial Capital. The Emperor is a paranoid man who sits on a throne held together by lies and the blood of my knights; the other three Dukes despise me, and the nobles fear me. The Church believes my existence is an affront to their gods.”

He watched her face carefully, looking for signs of panic or confusion.

But she was listening with the solemn, unwavering attention of an adult, her dark eyes locked onto his.

”The moment we cross the gates of the Capital, you will cease to be an anonymous orphan,” Kaelus continued, his words slow and measured. ”You will be Seraphina von Nacht. You will be the only known weakness of the Northern Archduke. Every assassin, every political rival, every poisoner, and every spy will look at you and see a target. They will smile at you at banquets, and they will try to slit your throat in the back gardens.”

Seraphina didn’t flinch. She had read enough political fantasy novels in her past life to know exactly what the ”Capital” meant.

It meant poison in the tea and hidden blades in fans. It meant smiling vipers biting each other with words and a poisonous smile.

”I will protect you,” Kaelus stated. It wasn’t a boast; it was a factual declaration, as certain as gravity. ”I have the Black Bastion, strong magic that can level the city if they provoke me. No one will easily lay a hand on you while you bear my name.”

He paused, and the air between them grew heavy.

”But,” Kaelus said, his violet eyes darkening with absolute, brutal honesty. ”I am the Archduke first. I have a territory to defend. I have tens of thousands of lives depending on my blade. If a moment comes where I must choose between the survival of my Bastion and your safety... I cannot prioritize you over my mission. I will not let the North burn for only one child.”

He let the words hang in the air. It was a cruel thing to say to a six-year-old.

It was the antithesis of a father’s unconditional love. But Kaelus was not a man who dealt in comforting lies.

If she was going to survive in his world, she needed to know exactly where she stood.

”Therefore,” Kaelus unclasped his hands and sat back. ”I am giving you a choice. A choice I rarely give anyone.”

Seraphina tilted her head, her messy hair spilling over the fur collar of the cape.

”You have eaten. You are warm,” Kaelus said. ”If this life is too terrifying for you, if the blood in the canyon and the ghosts in the walls are too much, you may withdraw right now. I will leave you at a sanctuary in the Western Monasteries and provide an endowment that ensures you will never go hungry or cold again. I will use my magic to erase the memory of your face from the minds of every knight in my vanguard. No one will ever know you met me. You will be safe, and you will be forgotten.”

He waited.

He expected her to cry.

He expected her to ask for the monastery, to run from the monster and the target painted on his back. Any sane child would.

But Seraphina was not a sane child. She was a cynical, twenty-something soul trapped in a toddler’s body, navigating a world where ”safe” was just a word people used right before they died.

She thought about the monastery. It sounded nice in theory. But she knew the truth. Monasteries belonged to the Church.

The Church hated heretics. If she ever slipped up, if she ever stared too long at a spirit or reacted to a ghost during a sermon, they wouldn’t protect her; they would burn her at the stake.

And what about the world outside? Monsters. Demons. Corrupt nobles like Count Rodhe, who turned orphans into cheap labor or worse.

There was no safe place for a shrimp in an ocean of leviathans.

Unless, of course, the shrimp was riding on the back of the biggest, meanest, most terrifying leviathan in the water.

Seraphina looked at Kaelus. She looked at his broad shoulders, the sword at his hip, and the cold, unyielding power that practically hummed in the air around him.

The canyon assassins hadn’t even scratched his carriage, and the ghosts in the mansion wouldn’t even enter the same room as his coat.