Chapter 6 - The Goddess of Roses Tells the TruthSeraphine woke on the third morning.
Lucid.
Weak.
Lucien sat beside her.
Aurelia stood near the window.
Seraphine touched the black roots across her temple.
“I can hear him.”
Vesper.
“What does he say?” Aurelia asked.
“That you hate me.”
“I did for approximately three hours.”
Seraphine blinked.
Aurelia continued:
“Then larger problems arrived.”
Despite everything, Seraphine laughed.
Weakly.
Then she cried.
“I wanted you to kneel.”
Aurelia did not respond.
“I hated the way everyone looked at you.”
Seraphine stared at her hands.
“You never needed to ask for respect.”
“That is not true.”
“It felt true.”
There it was.
Seraphine continued.
“When I entered a room, men stared.”
“When you entered, kingdoms changed policy.”
Aurelia sat opposite her.
“So you wanted my crown.”
“I wanted what people gave you.”
“They did not give it.”
Seraphine looked up.
“No?”
“I paid.”
Aurelia touched her shorn hair.
“Every vineyard you admired was partly mine.”
“Every forest.”
“Every harvest.”
“Every recovery after war.”
“For centuries, I had no day in which some part of me was not being consumed.”
Seraphine cried.
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask.”
The same sentence given to Lucien.
No cruelty.
Just truth.
Seraphine whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Aurelia nodded.
“I believe you.”
Lucien looked surprised.
Seraphine too.
“Do you forgive me?”
“No.”
Silence.
Aurelia continued:
“Perhaps someday.”
Seraphine nodded.
Then the crown tightened.
She gasped.
A voice emerged from her mouth.
Vesper.
“You sentimental creatures.”
Lucien stood.
Seraphine’s eyes turned white.
“Always begging to be absolved before paying the bill.”
Aurelia stepped closer.
“Leave her.”
Vesper laughed through Seraphine.
“She invited me.”
“She did not understand.”
“Consent through ignorance built half your temples.”
Aurelia’s face hardened.
Vesper had a point.
That made him more dangerous.
Then Seraphine’s own eyes returned.
“Aurelia.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me how.”
“Remove the crown?”
“Yes.”
“You must reject what it represents.”
“I reject it.”
Nothing happened.
Aurelia shook her head.
“Words.”
Seraphine cried.
“What else?”
“Tell the truth.”
“About what?”
“Why you wanted it.”
Seraphine stared.
Then looked at Lucien.
Her voice broke.
“Because I wanted him to choose me.”
Lucien frowned.
“I did choose you.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I wanted you to choose me over her.”
Aurelia remained silent.
Seraphine continued.
“I hated that when Aurelia entered, part of you always became her son again.”
Lucien looked stricken.
“So you made me prove it.”
“Yes.”
“The crown.”
“Yes.”
“Her hair.”
Seraphine sobbed.
“Yes.”
Lucien stepped backward.
She reached for him.
“I told myself it was about a new order.”
“But?”
“I wanted to win.”
Aurelia closed her eyes.
There it was.
The simple, ugly truth beneath grand political language.
Seraphine whispered:
“I wanted your mother to watch you hurt her for me.”
Lucien looked as though she had struck him.
Vesper screamed through the crown.
The black roots tightened.
Aurelia shouted:
“Again!”
Seraphine cried out.
“I DIDN’T WANT THE WORLD!”
The crown cracked.
“I WANTED TO FEEL MORE IMPORTANT THAN HER!”
Another crack.
Black smoke erupted.
Lucien grabbed Seraphine’s hand.
She looked at him.
“And I made your love into a weapon.”
The crown split.
Vesper roared.
Aurelia shouted:
“Lucien!”
He knew.
His part.
He stood.
“I wanted the throne.”
Nothing.
He clenched his fists.
“I envied D—” no, no Dorian. Let's keep.
“I envied everyone who bowed to her instead of me.”
The crown trembled.
“I told myself Seraphine deserved power.”
Another crack.
“But I wanted it too.”
Black roots withdrew from Seraphine’s neck.
Lucien looked at Aurelia.
“And when I cut the final strand…”
His voice collapsed.
“I knew the earth was dying.”
Aurelia’s eyes filled.
“I knew.”
He sobbed.
“And I cut it anyway.”
The crown shattered.
Vesper screamed.
The force threw everyone backward.
Seraphine collapsed.
The pieces of the Crown of Roots struck the floor.
Immediately, black fire consumed them.
A shadow erupted from Seraphine’s body and slammed into the ceiling.
Vesper.
Not fully corporeal.
But free enough.
He stared at Aurelia.
“You think confession saves worlds?”
Aurelia stood.
“No.”
Green light gathered beneath her feet.
May you like
“Work does.”
Then the sanctuary exploded.
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