Third-person POV

Deena tugged at the hem of her blazer as she walked quickly down the street, her head ducked low and her heart hammering in her chest.

Each step she took away from the gates of Elysium Girls High felt like a risk, as though someone might jump out of nowhere and call her back. Her eyes darted left and right, scanning the area nervously to make sure no one had noticed her.

She couldn’t afford to get caught sneaking out, not by Seraphina or anyone else.

Her grip tightened on the straps of her bag as she replayed the moment in her mind: earlier that afternoon, when she’d casually mentioned to Seraphina that she wouldn’t be “available” later in the evening.

To her surprise—and her immense relief—Seraphina hadn’t pushed for details. Normally, Seraphina would pry, questioning her plans, trying to make sure she wasn’t skipping out on whatever the group had planned, but this time, Seraphina had simply nodded and moved on.

Deena had been grateful. Thank the gods, she thought. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve said if Seraphina had pressed her. It wasn’t like she could’ve told her the truth—that she had been summoned by Queen Jella of Elmeria.

The queen’s servant had been very clear on the phone: “You are to tell no one about this summons, Lady Deena. Not even Her Highness, your friend.”

Deena hadn’t asked questions—she didn’t dare. Queen Jella wasn’t the kind of person you questioned. If she summoned you, you obeyed, no matter how much the very thought of it made your hands sweat and your stomach twist.

Deena had never had a direct audience with the queen before. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing. Probably bad, she thought nervously. People didn’t usually get summoned by the queen unless they were in trouble.

Or unless the queen wanted something.

As she turned a corner a few blocks away from the school gates, she spotted it: a sleek black car, parked under the streetlamp. She hesitated for half a second, glancing around one more time to make sure she wasn’t being followed. Then, when she was certain she was alone, she approached the car.

The driver stepped out as she neared, dressed in a black uniform. Without a word, he opened the back door, waiting for her to enter.

“Uh… this is the car for…?” Deena began, her voice hesitant.

“Lady Deena,” the man said with a curt nod. “Sent by Her Majesty, Queen Jella.”

That was all the confirmation she needed. With a deep breath to calm herself, Deena climbed into the back seat. The door clicked shut behind her, and the driver returned to his seat without a sound.

The car pulled smoothly into motion, and Deena couldn’t help but let out a nervous exhale, sinking back into the seat.

Her mind was racing. Why had the queen summoned her? Had she done something wrong? Did her family do something wrong, or worse—had someone told the queen something about her? About Seraphina?

The car finally came to a halt, and Deena’s breath hitched. She had been staring blankly at the tinted window for the last twenty minutes, trying to distract herself from the anxiety in her chest.

The silence in the car had been suffocating, and she had half-expected the driver to announce their arrival at the palace gates any moment, but when she looked out the window now, her brows furrowed in confusion.

They weren’t at the palace entrance.

Instead of the grand gates she had imagined, Deena found herself staring at an unfamiliar stone corridor ahead. The car had pulled into a hidden passageway—dark, narrow, and terrifyingly quiet.

A strange sense of foreboding crept into her chest as she glanced at the driver through the rearview mirror, but his expression remained blank, indifferent, as though nothing about this was unusual.

The back door opened, and the driver spoke. “Lady Deena, this way.”

With hesitation in every movement, Deena stepped out of the car. She clutched the strap of her bag tightly, her fingers curling around it like it was a lifeline. She didn’t ask questions—she didn’t dare.

If this was how the queen wanted to receive her, then she would follow. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being smuggled into the palace rather than being honored with a formal welcome.

The driver walked ahead, and Deena followed closely behind, her heart pounding in her chest as they moved deeper into the corridor. It felt endless, twisting and turning until she had completely lost her sense of direction.

The narrow passage made her even more uneasy, and the dim light only heightened the sense that she was heading somewhere she didn’t belong.

Finally, the passage opened up to a wooden door at the end. The driver stopped, turned toward her, and gestured toward the door. “Wait inside,” he said curtly. “Her Majesty will see you shortly.”

Deena nodded, though her throat felt tight, and stepped into the room as the driver held the door open for her. The room she found herself in was nothing like what she’d expected.

It was small and windowless, clearly located underground.

Before she could ask anything, the driver stepped back out into the corridor, pulling the door shut behind him with a thud. Deena flinched, her stomach twisting into knots as she realized she was alone.

She stood still in the center of the room, fidgeting with the hem of her blazer as her thoughts spiraled.

Her mind was running wild, overthinking every possible scenario when a light touch on her shoulder made her gasp sharply. Her body jolted, her heart leaping into her throat as she spun around, eyes wide in terror.

And then she saw her.

Queen Jella stood there, watching her with an expression that sent an immediate chill through Deena’s veins. Tall and regal, Queen Jella’s presence was unmistakable, but it was her eyes—cold and calculating—that froze Deena in place.

For a heartbeat, Deena couldn’t breathe. Then, instinct took over, and she gasped again, stumbling backward before immediately dropping to her knees. She bowed her head low, her heart still hammering as her voice came out shaky.

“Y-Your Majesty…”

The queen’s silence stretched for a moment, and Deena’s panic only grew. Then, to her surprise, Queen Jella chuckled, but there was no warmth in it, and it sent a chill down Deena’s spine.

“Well,” Queen Jella said. “I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised. I hadn’t expected one of Seraphina’s friends to know how to show proper respect to royalty.”

Deena swallowed hard, keeping her head bowed. Her forehead was nearly touching the cold stone floor. “Of course, Your Majesty,” she whispered. “It is an honor.”

Queen Jella chuckled again. “Honor, is it? I wouldn’t have thought Seraphina kept such polite company. I’ve been led to believe that all her friends are delinquents… like her.”

Deena bit her tongue, resisting the urge to defend her friend. What was she supposed to say? That Seraphina wasn’t a delinquent? That would be a lie, and she doubted the queen would appreciate hearing excuses.

Instead, Deena said nothing, keeping her head low and her hands pressed against the floor to stop them from trembling.

The queen’s footsteps echoed faintly as she began to circle Deena slowly, like a predator observing its prey. “Do you know why you’re here, Deena?” Queen Jella asked.

“N-No, Your Majesty,” Deena replied honestly. “I—I was summoned, but I wasn’t told why.”

“Hmm,” the queen hummed thoughtfully, pausing just behind her. Deena felt the faint brush of fabric as the queen’s robes shifted, and her shoulders tensed further. “You are loyal to Seraphina, aren’t you?”

Deena’s pulse quickened. It wasn’t a simple question, and she knew it. It was a test. A trap. She couldn’t lie to the queen—not directly, but admitting her loyalty could also spell trouble, so she chose her words carefully.

“Seraphina… is my friend, Your Majesty,” she said softly.

“And what does friendship mean to you, Deena?” the queen pressed. “Would you die for her, or would you betray her to keep your family’s secret?”

Deena’s head shot up at the mention of her family, her wide eyes locking on Queen Jella’s sharp gaze.

“W-Why would you ask me that, Your Majesty?” Deena stammered, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Why would you ask if I’d betray Seraphina for my family?”

Queen Jella smiled then—a sly, knowing smile that sent a chill down Deena’s spine.

“Well,” she began, “it’s come to my attention that the Caldareth family isn’t quite as prestigious as it once was. In fact…” She paused. “From what I hear, the Caldareths are all but bankrupt.”

Deena froze. Her breath caught in her throat, and her hands clenched instinctively at her sides. Bankrupt.

She knew the rumors were out there, of course—speculation that her family was struggling—but she’d spent months convincing herself they were nothing but idle gossip. An exaggeration from people with nothing better to do.

And yet here it was, spoken aloud by Queen Jella herself.

Her lips parted shakily, her voice barely above a whisper as she forced out her denial. “That’s… that’s not true,” she said. “It’s just a temporary setback. My father is resolving it.”

Queen Jella tilted her head slightly, her smile deepening as if she were amused by Deena’s weak attempt at protest.

“A temporary setback, is it?” she repeated, her tone mocking. “How noble of you to say. How hopeful, but you and I both know the truth, don’t we, Deena? The Caldareths are hanging by a thread, propping up their appearances with the last remnants of their pride. That’s the only reason you’re still able to walk the halls of Elysium Girls High.”

Deena’s head spun. Truly, her family’s pride was all they had left—it was why she worked so hard to keep up appearances, why she plastered on smiles at school and acted as though nothing had changed.

“Your Majesty, I—”

Queen Jella held up a hand, silencing her effortlessly. “Let me ask you something, Deena. What if you could change all of that? What if you could play the hero of your family? The one who pulled them back from ruin and restored them to the status they once had?”

Deena blinked. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and for a moment, she was sure she hadn’t heard the queen correctly.

“W-What do you mean?” she asked cautiously, her voice small.

Queen Jella stepped closer. “What I mean, dear Deena,” she said softly, “is that you have a choice. You can continue to cling to Seraphina and her influence, pretending as though nothing is wrong—pretending your family is still what it once was. Or…”

She let the word hang.

“Or,” she continued, “you can take matters into your own hands. You can restore your family’s name, their wealth, their dignity, but to do that, you’ll need to stop seeing Seraphina as your friend and start seeing her for what she truly is.”

Deena’s brows furrowed, confusion and fear swirling in her chest. “And what’s that?”

“Your enemy,” Queen Jella replied smoothly, her tone so matter-of-fact it made Deena’s stomach twist.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep