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"I need to see him—now," she told Lycan and Aries, her voice sharper than usual, carrying the weight of authority she hadn't known she possessed.
Lycan's eyes flicked to hers, calculating. "Are you sure?" he asked. "The throne room… Hades doesn't like interruptions."
"I'm sure," she said firmly. Her pulse was still racing from the encounter outside, but it wasn't fear driving her—it was a mixture of concern, urgency, and something she didn't yet understand herself.
Aries smirked, stepping aside to let her pass. "Bold little queen," he murmured. "Go on, then. Don't let anyone stop you."
Hazel strode through the long corridor, the familiar black stone walls illuminated by glowing torches that cast flickering shadows across her path. Each step felt heavier than the last, though not because of the distance. It was anticipation. She knew what awaited her. She could feel it before even reaching the throne room doors—the magnetic pull of Hades' presence, the weight of his power even before seeing him.
When she finally entered, the heavy doors swung open with a sonorous groan, and Hazel froze for just a moment.
Hades sat upon his throne, elevated on a dais of obsidian and bone, gems embedded like frozen tears along its edges. The throne radiated authority, dark beauty, and a quiet menace, much like the man seated upon it. His posture was perfect—straight-backed, shoulders relaxed but taut with control. And when his grey eyes lifted to meet hers, Hazel's breath caught.
The feeling she had on the northern plains—the awe, the sharp pull of danger and fascination—returned, stronger this time. Her heart thrummed in her chest, erratic and alive, and she realized she could not look away.
Her eyes traced him carefully, almost ritualistically, as if committing every detail to memory. Silver hair, like liquid moonlight, framed his sharp, pale features. His fiery red eyes, calm and calculating, seemed to pierce into her very thoughts. His skin was pale and flawless, a perfect contrast to the darkness of his all-black outfit. And those lips—rose red, firm, and exquisitely shaped—made her stomach tighten without her consent. She bit the inside of her cheek, scolding herself for noticing, yet unwilling to look away.
Around him, generals and strategists stood like statues, clad in armor polished to a mirror shine, eyes alert. The moment they noticed Hazel, several stepped forward, their movements quick, almost rehearsed, to intercept her before she could approach the throne.
"Your Highness," one of the strategists said, his voice calm but firm, "you shouldn't be here. This is a matter for His Majesty alone."
Hazel planted her feet firmly, her hands tightening around the edges of her cloak. "I am here because this is a matter that concerns the crown, and therefore me. You will not silence me."
Another strategist frowned, voice clipped. "Your last suggestion did not work. The rogues were… contained. The situation is managed."
Hazel's eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer to the throne, unafraid. "Contained? No," she said evenly, though the words carried steel. "Something caused this. Someone sabotaged your efforts. The rogues were provoked—or guided. And if Hades doesn't at least investigate, the next time they will come with more than a dozen."
Her words hung in the air. For a moment, no one spoke. Even the generals shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. They had underestimated the queen.
Hades' voice finally broke the silence, low, calm, but filled with the kind of authority that made everyone around him still as stone. "You speak boldly, Queen Hazel."
Hazel lifted her chin, meeting his eyes with unwavering intent. "I speak because the northern plains are not safe. Not for the people under your protection, not for the kingdom. If this is ignored, more blood will spill."
A tense moment passed as Hades studied her. His fingers tapped lightly against the arm of the throne, and his grey eyes softened—not entirely, but just enough to show that her words had reached him.
One of the generals cleared his throat, trying again. "Your Majesty, the queen misunderstands. These incidents—"
Hades raised a hand, and the room fell silent instantly. "Enough," he said, his tone absolute. His eyes never left Hazel. "You may speak, Queen. And I will listen."
Hazel felt the weight of those words like a warm current passing through her chest. She drew a breath and continued. "I've seen them. The rogues, the leader—he was arrogant, defiant. I saw what Hades did to him… and I know that same anger, that same ruthlessness, could be turned against the wrong people if left unchecked. There is more to this than just rogue demons. Someone wants to test you, your soldiers, your rule. We cannot ignore it."
Hades' gaze sharpened, a faint crease forming between his brows. He tilted his head slightly, as if measuring the gravity of her words. "And you suspect sabotage?" he asked, voice a low rumble.
"Yes," Hazel said firmly. "Someone orchestrated this. I don't know who yet, but if you don't look into it, they'll strike again. And next time… they might not be stopped by mere flames."
A subtle smile touched Hades' lips, faint but present. "You speak with foresight, and courage," he said. "Perhaps more than some of my generals tonight." He leaned back slightly, studying her like one studies a dangerous but intriguing puzzle. "Very well, Queen Hazel. I will investigate this. But be warned…" His voice dropped an octave, carrying that same suffocating weight she had seen before. "…if this is indeed a test, I will find the ones responsible. And they will regret it."
Hazel's pulse raced. Even as his words sent a shiver down her spine, there was a strange comfort in them. He believed her. He was listening.
The strategists and generals shifted uneasily, casting glances at one another. None dared interrupt again. Hazel realized that she had carved her voice into Hades' throne room, standing unafraid in front of the man who could make even the most seasoned demon hesitate.
Hades finally leaned back fully, the shadow of his cloak stretching behind him like a living thing. "Go," he said to the room, his attention still partially on her. "Return to your duties. Keep the walls secure. And Queen Hazel…"
"Yes?" she asked, heart thundering.
"Your intuition has merit," he said. His voice softened ever so slightly, just for her ears, though his posture remained commanding. "Continue to observe, continue to speak when necessary. I will consider what you've said carefully."
Hazel nodded, suppressing the small shiver of satisfaction that ran through her. She had been heard. Her thoughts, her concern, her instinct to protect the kingdom—it mattered to him. Even here, in this hall of power, surrounded by generals and shadows, she had made her mark.
As she turned to leave, Lycan and Aries flanked her. "You held your ground well," Lycan murmured quietly, his eyes scanning the room for any further threats.
Aries smirked again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Not just a queen, huh? You've got courage… and guts."
Hazel offered a small, tired smile. "Someone has to," she said, though her mind still lingered on Hades' expression—the quiet intensity behind his gaze, the way his presence could freeze the world, and how much she both feared and respected him at once.
The doors closed behind them with a final, echoing boom, leaving the throne room once more in shadows and silence. Hazel exhaled deeply, finally letting herself feel the adrenaline fade, replaced by a steady, determined resolve.
Something was coming. She didn't know what—or who—but now she knew she had Hades' ear. And perhaps, just perhaps, that made all the difference.