Chapter 35 Selene Meets Ulrika
Selene had prepared herself. She had prepared thoroughly. Because when one went to meet the infamous Ulrika Vincent—the woman whispered about in corridors with equal parts confusion and fascination—one did not simply walk in unready. No. One rehearsed. Selene had spent the entire morning in front of a mirror, practicing her expressions. Polite but not submissive. Curious but not naïve. Kind but not easily manipulated. She had adjusted her posture a dozen times. Practiced her voice until it neither trembled nor sounded too firm. Even her dress had been chosen with intention: soft cream and pale gold, elegant without being ostentatious, gentle enough to disarm, structured enough to maintain dignity. She looked like a proper crown princess candidate. She felt like a spoon being sent to negotiate with a sword. Because that was what everyone said Ulrika Vincent was. No—worse. An uncouth and blunt woman had been presented to the nobility. Someone who had, in a matter of weeks, dismantled carefully constructed social hierarchies with surgical precision.
Selene had heard the rumors. Of the way Ulrika had publicly humiliated Crown Prince Lucien without raising her voice. Of the way nobles twice her age stumbled under her gaze. Of the way even Grand Duke Aric Solheim—that Aric Solheim, the man rumored to be colder than winter steel—stood slightly closer to her than anyone else. And perhaps most unsettling of all— The way people could not quite decide whether she was a disaster… or a miracle.
Selene did not know which frightened her more. Still. She had made a decision. If Ulrika was truly as dangerous as they claimed… then Selene needed to understand her. And if Ulrika was misunderstood— Then Selene needed to see her clearly before the rest of the world crushed her into the role they expected her to play. So here she was. Standing outside the Vincent estate’s private study. Her hands were clasped neatly in front of her. Her breathing measured. Her thoughts… slightly less composed than she would have liked. You can do this, she told herself. You have faced court banquets. Political traps. Lucien. You can face one woman.
She raised her hand. Knocked. There was no response. Selene hesitated, then gently pushed the door open. “…hello?”
Silence greeted her. Then— A sound. A crunch.
Selene stepped inside. And promptly stopped. Because nothing— Nothing— In all her careful preparation had prepared her for what she saw. Ulrika Vincent was sprawled across a chaise near the window, one leg draped over the armrest in a manner that would have given Selene’s etiquette instructor a fatal heart attack. Her long dark hair was loosely tied back with what appeared to be a strip of cloth that might once have been part of a sleeve. She was wearing… something. Technically. A loose tunic, sleeves rolled unevenly, the collar slightly askew, paired with fitted trousers that looked more suited for climbing rooftops than receiving guests. And in one hand— A half-eaten pear. In the other— A stack of documents. Upside down.
Selene blinked. Once. Twice.
Ulrika took another bite of the pear. Crunch. Turned a page. Still upside down.
Selene’s brain… stalled.
“…hello?” she said, her voice emerging softer than intended.
Ulrika paused mid-bite. Slowly lowered the pear. Looked up. Their eyes met. For a brief, surreal moment, the world held its breath. Ulrika’s gaze was sharp. Not in the way Selene had expected—there was no immediate hostility, no calculated coldness—but there was a clarity there that felt almost cutting, like a blade that didn’t bother pretending to be anything else. It assessed. It understood. Selene felt, quite suddenly, like she had been seen more clearly in that single glance than in weeks of court interaction.
Then Ulrika said, very simply— “Hi.”
Pause.
Selene blinked again. “…hi,” she replied, because apparently her carefully rehearsed speech had fled her body entirely.
They stared at each other. There was a beat. Then another. Selene’s mind scrambled to recover. Say something intelligent. Say something diplomatic. Say literally anything that isn’t ‘hi’ again. “…you’re… not what I expected,” she managed at last. It was not what she had planned to say. It was, however, honest.
Ulrika tilted her head slightly. Took another bite of the pear. “Same,” she said.
Selene stared. Because that—that—was not how conversations with dangerous women were supposed to go. There was supposed to be tension. Veiled threats. Layers of meaning beneath every word. Instead, Ulrika Vincent was eating fruit like she had a personal vendetta against it and reading documents upside down.
Selene’s gaze flickered to the papers. “…those are upside down,” she said, before she could stop herself.
Ulrika glanced at the documents. Paused. Rotated them slowly. Right side up. “…huh,” she said.
Selene— Selene did not know what to do with this. A laugh bubbled up in her chest, entirely uninvited. She tried to suppress it. Failed. A small, breathy sound escaped.
Ulrika looked at her. Selene froze. Oh no. You just laughed at her. You’re going to die.
Ulrika blinked once. Then— “…that was helpful,” she said.
Selene stared. “…what?”
“The upside down thing,” Ulrika clarified, holding up the papers. “I was wondering why the numbers were fighting me.”
Selene— Selene laughed. Actually laughed. It startled her more than it startled Ulrika. Because she had not laughed like that in months. Not in court. Not around Lucien. Not even alone. And yet here she was, in the study of the empire’s most confusing woman, laughing because— Because Ulrika Vincent had been reading documents upside down and didn’t notice.
This was not how this meeting was supposed to go.
“…may I sit?” Selene asked, once she regained some semblance of composure.
Ulrika gestured vaguely with the pear. “Furniture exists for a reason.”
Selene took that as a yes. She sat across from her, smoothing her skirt out of habit. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Selene studied Ulrika more carefully now. The rumors had not been entirely wrong. There was something different about her. Not in the obvious ways people described—but in the way she carried herself. There was no pretense. No performance. No carefully constructed persona to fit expectations. Ulrika simply… was. And that, Selene realized, was perhaps more unsettling than any calculated villainy could have been.
“You’re Princess Selene,” Ulrika said suddenly. It wasn’t a question.
Selene nodded. “Yes.”
Ulrika took another bite of the pear. Chewed. Swallowed. “You don’t look like someone who’d survive court long.”
Selene blinked. “…I beg your pardon?”
“You’re too nice,” Ulrika said, as if discussing the weather. “They’ll eat you alive.”
Selene— Selene should have been offended. She was, a little. But there was no malice in Ulrika’s tone. Just… blunt observation.
Selene straightened slightly. “I am not as naïve as I appear.”
“I didn’t say naïve,” Ulrika replied. “I said nice. Different problem.”
Selene opened her mouth. Closed it. Because— That was… frustratingly accurate.
Ulrika leaned back further into the chaise, studying her now with a more focused gaze. “You came here on purpose,” she said. Again, not a question.
Selene nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Selene hesitated. This was the moment. The one she had prepared for. The reason she had come. She inhaled softly. “Because everyone keeps telling me what you are,” she said. “And none of them can agree.”
Ulrika’s brow lifted slightly. “And you wanted to pick your own answer.”
“Yes.”
Silence settled between them again. But this time, it wasn’t awkward. It was… thoughtful.
Ulrika tapped the pear lightly against her knee. “…and?” she asked.
Selene considered her. Really considered her. The messy posture. The blunt speech. The sharp eyes. The complete and utter lack of interest in performing for anyone. This was not a villainess. This was not the cold, calculating monster the rumors described. This was— “…confusing,” Selene admitted.
Ulrika snorted. “Accurate.”
Selene smiled despite herself. “I thought I would meet someone dangerous.”
“You did,” Ulrika said easily.
Selene paused. Looked at her. And for the first time— She saw it. Beneath the casual posture. Beneath the dry humor. There was something coiled there. Something precise. Controlled. Lethal. Ulrika met her gaze steadily. “I just don’t feel like proving it right now.”
Selene’s breath caught. Not in fear. But in understanding. Ah. There it is. That was the part the rumors couldn’t quite capture. Ulrika Vincent wasn’t performing danger. She simply was dangerous. And chose, at any given moment, whether or not it mattered.
Selene exhaled slowly. “…I see.”
Another pause. Then— Something softened in her expression. Because despite that realization— Despite everything— Ulrika had not threatened her. Had not tested her. Had not tried to manipulate her. She had simply… spoken. Bluntly. Honestly.
Selene tilted her head slightly. “…may I ask you something?”
Ulrika shrugged. “You just did.”
Selene huffed a quiet laugh. “Another question, then.”
“Go ahead.”
Selene hesitated. Then— “Are you my enemy?”
The question hung in the air. Simple. Direct. Honest.
Ulrika looked at her for a long moment. Really looked. Then she said— “Do you plan to become one?”
Selene blinked. “…no.”
“Then no,” Ulrika said. Just like that. No hesitation. No dramatics.
Selene stared at her. Because— Because it was that simple? Just like that? No games? No conditions? “…that’s it?” Selene asked.
Ulrika raised a brow. “Do you want a speech?”
“…no.”
“Then that’s it.”
Selene let out a small breath. And something in her chest— Something tight she hadn’t even realized was there— Loosened. She looked at Ulrika. At the strange, blunt, completely unpredictable woman in front of her. And without thinking— “…I like you,” Selene said. The words came out easily. Naturally. Like a conclusion she had already reached without noticing.
Ulrika blinked. Once. Then she leaned back further into the chaise, taking another bite of her pear. “…you’re rather strange,” she said.
Selene smiled. “So are you.”
A beat. Then— “…fair.”
They sat there for a while after that. Not speaking much. Just… existing in the same space. Selene found it oddly comfortable. Which was perhaps the strangest thing of all. Because when she had walked into this room— She had expected a villainess. Instead— She had found Ulrika. And somehow— That felt like the beginning of something important.
Outside the study door, a shadow lingers—someone who heard just enough of the conversation to misunderstand everything.