Betrayed by My Ex, Marked by His Alpha Emperor Brother

Chapter 25

Elara’s POV

The palace corridors blurred around me as I walked. My legs moved on instinct. Left, right, left. Past the marble columns. Past the tapestries of ancient victories. Past guards who straightened at my approach and relaxed the moment I passed.

I barely saw any of it.

Keep walking. Don’t stop. Don’t think.

Moonlight was silent inside me. Even she had nothing left to say.

The cold morning air hit my face when I stepped outside. Sharp. Bracing. It should have woken me up. Instead, it just made the numbness spread deeper.

I’d barely slept. The confrontation from last night still clung to my bones like damp cloth. Seraphine draped over Kaelen’s arm. That gold badge glinting between her fingers. His silence.

Always his silence.

I made my way through the lower gate toward the staff entrance. My reflection caught in a polished window—pale face, dark circles carved beneath my ice-blue eyes, silver-white hair pulled into a hasty knot. I looked like a ghost haunting someone else’s palace.

The staff rest room was warm and smelled of bitter tea. As I passed the half-open door, a voice carried out, loud and boastful.

“Five whole years apart, but the moment I walked through those doors, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.” Seraphine’s voice was unmistakable. “True love always finds its way back.”

I heard the murmurs of awe from the other court ladies.

“And did you see the way he looked at me?” Seraphine continued. “That kind of devotion... well, it’s no secret who the future empress is going to be.”

My hand froze on the door handle.

Future empress.

The words were spreading already. Like ink in water. Unstoppable.

I slipped past the room without a word. None of them noticed me. Why would they? I was the quiet assistant. The commoner who somehow held a senior position she didn’t deserve.

That’s what they all think, isn’t it?

I reached my office. A small, tidy room adjacent to the emperor’s private study. I’d arranged the shelves myself—ledgers by date, correspondence by province, sealed documents in the locked cabinet. Everything in perfect order.

It was the only thing in my life I could control.

I set down my satchel and began sorting the morning dispatches. Routine. Familiar. Safe.

At exactly nine o’clock, the door opened.

The scent hit me first. Jasmine and something sharper underneath. Heavy. Overpowering. An alchemical perfume designed to announce its wearer long before she appeared.

Seraphine perched herself on the edge of my desk.

Not a chair. My desk.

Her blood-red gown clung to every curve like a second skin. Platinum hair cascaded over one shoulder in an artful wave. Her cosmetics were flawless—lips stained deep crimson, lashes impossibly thick, cheekbones highlighted with something that caught the light like crushed pearl.

She crossed her legs slowly. Deliberately. The slit in her gown revealed a length of pale thigh.

“Good morning, bestie.” Her smile was sugar laced with arsenic.

I didn’t look up from the dispatches. “Good morning, Seraphine.”

“I was thinking.” She examined her nails. “These morning reports you handle—trade petitions, supply logs, all that dreadfully boring commoner work—you must be so overwhelmed. Why don’t I take over the emperor’s personal schedule, and you can focus on the... mundane things? The things you’re more suited for.”

My jaw tightened. I kept sorting.

“After all,” she continued, “I understand the emperor’s preferences. Intimately.”

Before I could respond, the door to the inner study opened.

Kaelen filled the doorframe.

He wore a charcoal military uniform, buttons fastened to the throat. The fabric stretched across his broad shoulders. His dark hair was combed back from his face, and his gold eyes swept the room with the precision of a blade.

Seraphine transformed instantly.

She slid off my desk with feline grace, crossing the room in three quick steps. Her hands found his arm. Her body tilted into his.

“Kaelen, darling.” Her voice dropped to something warm and intimate. “I was just telling Elara that I’d be happy to manage your personal schedule. She’s been handling so much—I’d hate for her to burn out. Let me take care of the important things, and she can manage the basic filings.”

Kaelen’s gaze moved from Seraphine to me. Then back to Seraphine.

“Miss Valcourt.” His voice was clipped. Cold. “Elara is my senior assistant. Her duties were outlined by Claire and confirmed by my authority. They are not subject to redistribution.”

Seraphine blinked. Just once. A tiny crack in the mask.

“Of course, Your Majesty. I only meant—”

“There are no special relationships within this office,” he continued, extracting his arm from her grip with a movement so subtle it might have been accidental. It wasn’t. “There are roles. There are responsibilities. Nothing more.”

A flush crept up Seraphine’s neck. She recovered quickly, her smile snapping back into place.

“Naturally. I wouldn’t dream of overstepping.”

Kaelen turned and disappeared into his study. The door remained open. A deliberate choice—he wanted to hear the outer office.

Seraphine settled into the chair across from mine. She folded her hands on the desk. Smiled pleasantly. When she spoke, her voice carried just enough to reach the open door.

“Elara, would you mind pulling the border revenue reports from a while ago? I’ll cross-reference them with—”

“Of course.” I handed her the file without hesitation.

For the next stretch of time, she was impeccable. Efficient. Professional. Every word calibrated for Kaelen’s ears. She handed me documents with a courteous nod. Asked questions in a tone of collegial respect.

Perfect employee. Perfect performance.

Then the study door closed.

The change was instantaneous.

Seraphine dropped a stack of trade petitions on my desk. The pile landed with a heavy thud.

“File these,” she said. “All of them. By province and by date. And when you’re done, there’s a second batch in the archives that needs cataloging.”

That was her workload. Not mine.

“Also.” She leaned forward. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Your dress has a stain on the sleeve. You might want to fix that before the emperor sees. Wouldn’t want him reminded of what you really are.” A pause. “Commoner.”

The word landed like a slap.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. My fingers curled against the desk.

Say something. Fight back. You are not nothing.

But the old paralysis held me in place. Years of it. Layer upon layer. Isolde’s laughter. Seraphine’s fountain. The dining hall. The empty room and the note pinned to the door.

Did you really think anyone wanted you here?

A sharp knock interrupted us. A messenger appeared in the doorway, breathless.

“Your Majesty—” He caught himself, glancing between us. “Urgent dispatch. Lord Commander requests the emperor’s immediate presence. Territorial dispute along the northern border. Escalating quickly.”

The study door flew open. Kaelen emerged, already fastening his cloak.

“Elara, book the royal airship immediately,” he ordered. “Route to the northern outpost.”

Seraphine was on her feet in an instant.

“I’ll handle it, Kaelen, darling,” she interrupted, stepping in front of me to usurp the task. “I will book the royal airship, and I must accompany you. As your future empress, I should be at your side for diplomatic matters.”

“No.” The single word cut through the room. “Both of you stay. Manage the office. I’ll return when the situation is contained.”

“But Kaelen, darling—”

“That is an order, Miss Valcourt.”

He didn’t look at me. Didn’t look at either of us. He swept through the door and was gone. His boot steps faded down the corridor like a dying drumbeat.

Silence settled over the office.

A moment later, Seraphine moved.

Her hand shot out and seized a fistful of my hair. She yanked—hard—pulling my head back until my throat was exposed and my eyes watered.

“Listen carefully, poor little commoner.” Her breath was hot against my ear. Her fingers twisted tighter. Pain lanced across my scalp. “I am Kaelen’s first love. I will carry his children. I will be empress of this realm. And you—” Another vicious twist. “—are a temporary inconvenience.”

Fight back! Moonlight roared inside my skull. FIGHT BACK!

But my body wouldn’t move. Every muscle locked. Every instinct screamed to submit—to shrink—to survive the way I’d always survived. By enduring.

You are nothing. You are no one. You do not belong here.

Seraphine released my hair with a shove that sent me stumbling against the desk.

“Now.” She smoothed her gown. Adjusted her platinum hair. Settled back into her chair as though nothing had happened. “I’d like a black coffee. Two sugars. In the fine porcelain. Not the common clay cups.”

She smiled.

“Run along, darling.”

My hands trembled as I turned toward the sideboard. Shame burned through my chest like acid. My scalp throbbed where she’d pulled.

Why can’t I fight? Why can I never fight?

Moonlight whimpered. A wounded, furious sound.

Then—a faint pulse against my hip.

My communication stone. Tucked in the pocket of my dress. Glowing.

I pulled it out. A sigil shimmered across its surface.

A sigil I hadn’t seen in over five years, but I recognized it instantly.

The Baroness de Valois.

My foster mother.