Chapter 72
Aurora had learned one thing quickly in the palace:
Everyone believed whatever she said.
A soft expression.
A trembling lip.
A lowered gaze.
They rushed to protect her, comfort her, defend her—because they thought she was fragile.
Because she was the “lost bride” who needed shielding.
She didn’t correct them.
Not because she enjoyed it.
Not because she planned it.
But because something inside her whispered:
Use it.
Use them.
Survive.
She didn’t remember where that voice came from.
But she obeyed it.
The Return of Seraphine
Late afternoon sunlight warmed the palace halls when whispers rose among the maids.
“She’s back.”
“Seraphine has returned.”
“Her face looked thunderous—like she has something to say.”
Aurora didn’t react.
She continued reading the book in her lap, flipping pages slowly, not absorbing a single word.
A knock sounded.
The door opened.
Seraphine entered.
Tall. Elegant. Sharp-eyed.
Her presence cut through the room like a blade.
“Aurora,” she said tightly. “We need to talk.”
Aurora closed the book gently.
Tilted her head.
Smiled faintly—too faintly.
“Yes?”
Seraphine stepped closer, voice low and angry.
“You are not who they say you are.”
Aurora didn’t blink.
“You were never Kairo’s bride. Never promised to him. Never raised here.”
Still no reaction.
Seraphine continued, eyes burning.
“They found you unconscious and wounded near the border. You were nothing. No name. No identity. They brought you here because they felt sorry for you. And now—now you’re pretending to be someone else.”
Aurora stared.
Not shocked.
Not confused.
Just… empty.
Seraphine misread that emptiness as guilt.
“You’re a fake,” she snapped. “And I will not let you replace me.”
Aurora lowered her eyes, voice soft as silk.
“I know.”
Seraphine froze.
“…You know?”
Aurora nodded slowly.
“I know everything you said is true.”
Seraphine’s mouth opened—finally expecting an apology, or tears, or a breakdown.
Instead Aurora sighed, took a shaky breath, and whispered:
“But I also know you hurt me.”
Seraphine’s anger shattered into confusion.
“What? I never—”
Aurora cut her off.
“You pushed me. You said awful things. You tried to get rid of me.”
“I did no such thing!” Seraphine snapped. “You’re lying!”
Aurora lifted a hand to her temple.
“Stop yelling… my head…”
She swayed.
Seraphine reached forward instinctively—but too late.
Aurora let herself fall.
She hit the floor with a sharp thud.
Gasps filled the hallway as guards rushed in at the sound.
“Aurora!”
“Aurora, are you alright?”
“What happened?”
Aurora lay curled, trembling, eyes wide and wet.
“She—she hit me,” she whispered weakly.
Seraphine’s face drained of color.
“What?!” she exploded. “I didn’t touch her!”
Psychopath
Within minutes, the queen and king arrived. Kairo stormed in behind them.
Seraphine tried to explain herself, voice cracking.
“She’s lying! I swear I didn’t harm her! She—she threw herself to the floor!”
Kairo glared with icy fury.
“Seraphine, enough.”
“I’m telling the truth!” she cried.
Aurora whimpered softly. That was all it took.
The queen knelt beside her, stroking her hair.
“It’s alright, dear. You’re safe. We’re here.”
Seraphine pointed at Aurora, voice breaking.
“She’s a psychopath! She’s manipulating all of you!”
The king’s voice boomed like thunder.
“Enough! You will watch your words in this palace!”
Seraphine shook her head in disbelief.
“She fooled you all,” she whispered. “She fooled everyone.”
Kairo stood, jaw clenched.
“Seraphine… you are to return to your people immediately.”
Seraphine’s breath caught.
“You’re choosing her over the truth?”
“We are choosing peace,” the queen answered coldly.
Seraphine looked at Aurora one last time—a mixture of fear and hatred.
Aurora looked back with gentle, innocent eyes.
Seraphine realized something then.
This girl wasn’t weak.
This girl wasn’t helpless.
This girl was dangerous.
She whispered, voice trembling with realization:
“You’re not Aurora.
And you’re definitely not innocent.”
Aurora blinked slowly.
“Goodbye, Seraphine.”
Seraphine was escorted out of the palace.
Aurora’s Smile
Hours later, Aurora sat by the window, sunlight making her look almost angelic.
A maid apologized for the hundredth time.
“My lady, we are so sorry you had to experience such distress. Seraphine will never bother you again.”
Aurora smiled softly.
“I know.”
She touched the bandage on her forehead—placed over a wound she didn’t have.
The palace believed her completely.
And Aurora realized something:
She didn’t know who she used to be.
But whoever she was now…
She was learning how to survive.
How to bend the world around her.
How to make lies look like truth.
And she was good at it.
Very good.