Kneel For Me: The Immortal Queen's Shadow

Cecil stood alone in the study, the floor-to-ceiling windows framing the dark grounds of the estate. The night sky was clear, but she wasn't looking at the stars. She was looking at the glass.

She reached out and pressed her fingertip against the cold pane. A faint ripple, like a drop of water hitting a still pond, spread out from the point of contact.

Her golden eyes glazed over. The present faded, and the future rushed in.

She saw trees. Tall, imposing pines. A steep, rocky cliff. The roar of the ocean far below.

She saw Aedan, wearing a microphone pack, his face pale with terror. He was stumbling backward, his foot slipping on the loose gravel.

He fell. He tumbled over the edge, his scream swallowed by the wind.

And standing at the top of the cliff, looking down, were two figures. A man with a smug smile and a woman with cold, calculating eyes. Grove Greene and Katia Ramsey. The cameras around them were rolling, capturing the tragedy, their faces perfectly composed for the audience.

The vision shattered.

Cecil pulled her finger back from the glass. Her jaw clenched. The air around her crackled with residual energy.

She turned and strode out of the study, her velvet gown sweeping behind her. She followed the sound of shouting.

In the grand living room, Aedan was pacing like a caged animal. His hair was a mess, his shirt untucked. Sterling sat in a high-backed chair, his face like thunder.

"I want her out!" Aedan yelled, pointing at the doorway. "I don't care who she says she is! She's a lunatic! She's a witch! Call the police, call the Vatican, just get her out of my house!"

Sterling didn't move. He simply raised his hand and backhanded Aedan across the face.

The slap was loud and sharp. Aedan stumbled, his hand flying to his cheek, his eyes wide with shock.

"You will show respect," Sterling said, his voice trembling with rage. "To the First Matriarch."

Aedan opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat. The temperature in the room had dropped.

Cecil walked into the room. She didn't look at Sterling. She looked only at Aedan.

The silence was immediate and oppressive. Aedan took a step back, his hand still pressed against his stinging cheek.

"You are participating in a public spectacle," Cecil said. It wasn't a question. The term 'television program' felt alien on her tongue, but the concept, gleaned from his mind, was clear: a ritual of judgment before a faceless crowd.

Aedan swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of control. He puffed out his chest, a desperate attempt at bravado. "It's a reality show. It's my job. It's my chance to fix my image, to get my career back."

Cecil let out a short, humorless laugh. "Fix your image? That program is the beginning of your end."

Aedan glared at her. "You don't know anything about Hollywood! This is how things work here!"

Cecil ignored his outburst. She turned her gaze to Sterling. "Inform the production team. His partner has changed."

Aedan blinked, confused. "Partner? I don't have a partner. It's a solo show."

"It isn't anymore," Cecil said smoothly. "It's me."

Aedan stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing. It was a high-pitched, slightly hysterical sound. "You? On reality TV? You're out of your mind!"

Sterling, however, was already nodding. "It will be done, Matriarch."

Aedan's laughter cut off abruptly. He spun to face his grandfather. "Grandpa! You can't be serious! You can't let this crazy woman ruin my show!"

"Silence!" Sterling bellowed, rising from his chair. "The Matriarch's word is law in this house!"

Aedan stood there, his mouth agape, looking between the two of them. He was completely cornered.

Cecil walked over to him. She reached out and took the collar of his rumpled shirt in her hands. She straightened it, smoothing the fabric with slow, deliberate movements.

The touch was gentle, almost intimate. But Aedan froze. His entire body went rigid. The memory of the crushing pressure, the feeling of her inside his head, was too fresh.

Cecil leaned in close. Her lips brushed his ear. Her breath was cold, sending a shiver down his spine.

"From this moment on," she whispered, "you are my shadow."

She released him and turned away, walking out of the room without a backward glance.

Aedan stood in the middle of the room, his heart pounding, his skin crawling. He looked at his grandfather, hoping for some sign of reprieve.

Sterling simply sat back down and picked up his newspaper.

The reality show had just become a prison.