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Hazel had never considered herself a naturally suspicious person.
On set, in her old life, she'd been surrounded by whispers, power games, and egos bigger than the cameras filming them, but she'd learned to navigate all of it by trusting instincts over impulse. That same instinct now had a single name fixed in her mind: Gavriel.
Hades' general.
One of his most trusted.
And maybe, just maybe, the man who had quietly set her plan for Nyxmoor up to fail.
It was a dangerous thought to entertain. If she was wrong, accusing him without proof could drive a wedge between her and Hades that no apology would heal. If she was right… she was living under the same roof as a man who had just sabotaged an entire territory for his own gain.
So she decided on the only path that made sense—watch him.
The first opportunity came in the training courtyard. Gavriel was with a group of soldiers, all dressed in the black-and-crimson armor of the Citadel guard. His voice carried over the clang of sparring swords, issuing sharp corrections that made men straighten like bowstrings.
Hazel stood in the shade of an arched walkway, pretending to listen to Miriam talk about new linens for the guest wing. She kept her gaze slightly to the side, enough to catch Gavriel in her periphery.
He was every inch the image of a loyal general—broad-shouldered, controlled, confident. But there was an edge to the way he looked at the younger soldiers, not unlike the way a wolf might watch a herd. His approval was rare, his discipline swift.
When he finally noticed her, he smiled, bowing his head slightly before returning to his men. But something in his expression had changed—subtle, fleeting—a flicker of calculation before the warmth returned.
That night, Hazel tested him.
She approached Gavriel in the grand hall where a few of the war council members lingered over maps. "I heard," she said casually, "that Nyxmoor's miners might be moving production east. Closer to the Crimson Hills."
It was a lie.
A small one, harmless on its own—unless it found its way into the wrong ears.
Gavriel didn't react immediately. But she caught the faint narrowing of his eyes, the slight pause before he responded with a polite, "If they were wise, they'd stay where the veins are rich." Then he excused himself and left.
The next morning, she overheard two junior officers muttering near the stables about "Nyxmoor's expansion east" and how the general had been preparing for a shift in their guard placements.
She said nothing—only filed it away.
Over the next few days, Hazel made it a point to appear in places Gavriel frequented. The training grounds. The council chamber. The vaulted hallway outside the war room. Each time, she offered small, seemingly meaningless comments about Nyxmoor, about supplies, about the rogue attacks. Each time, pieces of those comments reappeared in the whispers she heard from other soldiers.
It was like dropping ink into water and watching it swirl.
Gavriel didn't catch her watching him. Or if he did, he didn't show it. In public, he was almost disarmingly courteous to her—bowing when they crossed paths, asking after her comfort in the Citadel, even complimenting her during a mock duel Aries had roped her into.
Hades noticed once.
They had been walking back from the gardens when Gavriel passed them, offering Hazel a faint smile and a "Your Highness." Hades' eyes followed the general until he disappeared behind a corner, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
"You've been speaking to Gavriel often," Hades said finally.
Hazel kept her tone light. "He's your general. I'm trying to learn how things work here."
"Mm." The sound was low, unreadable. But his hand lingered at his back until they reached their chambers.
The break in routine came four nights later.
Hazel had been heading toward the library when she saw Gavriel near the outer corridor, speaking in low tones to another man she didn't recognize. The flicker of torchlight caught the sharp planes of his face, but his body language was different—tense, coiled, as though the conversation wasn't meant for anyone else's ears.
She stopped in the shadow of a pillar, the sound of her own heartbeat loud in her ears. She tried her best to calm down so Gavriel wouldn't hear her heartbeat.
Argh, it was moments like this she wished she had Demons heightened senses.there was no way she could hear their conversation.
She couldn't make out the words, but she could see the way Gavriel's hand tightened briefly on the man's shoulder before releasing it. The stranger left quickly, keeping his head down.
Gavriel stood there for a moment, scanning the hall as if making sure no one had seen. Then he turned and walked away.
Hazel waited until the echo of his boots had faded before stepping out.
She didn't know who the man was, what had been said, or why it made Gavriel's stance look like a predator ready to strike. But she knew this: she was getting closer.
And when she finally brought this to Hades, she would have more than just a suspicion.
She returned to her chambers that night with a single thought crystallizing in her mind:
Gavriel wasn't just a soldier.
He was playing a game.
And she was going to find out the rules before he realized she was a player, too.