Chapter Fourteen: Fire for Blood
The assassin was just the beginning.
By sunrise, we discovered the blade had been poisoned—nightshade mixed with widow's salt. A slow killer, had it gone deeper.
Someone in the court wanted me dead.
Not publicly.
Quietly.
Cowardice cloaked in silk.
I ordered the palace sealed.
No one in. No one out.
Interrogations began. Servants wept. Nobles cursed behind closed doors.
But I was no longer the girl they thought I was.
In the Hall of Justice, I stood before the high table and read the names of those who had profited most from Kael's lies.
The Duke of Merrow.
Lady Syra of the North Vale.
General Edrin.
And—
Lord Veylan.
My uncle by marriage.
The one who'd once toasted my betrothal to Kael like it was his own victory.
"You aided Kael in hiding the Elareth report," I said.
"I did what was best for the realm," he snapped.
I stepped closer. "What you did was betray your crown, and your blood."
He sneered. "You are not your mother."
"No," I said. "I am more."
And I turned to the council.
"By the ancient rites of Seravyn law, I name him traitor. Strip him of title, lands, and allegiance."
Veylan roared.
But he was silenced.
Not by me—
By the guards who dragged him away.
That night, I stood by the balcony again.
Caden joined me, silent, steady.
"They won't stop," I murmured. "Not until I fall."
"Then don't fall," he said. "Burn."
He reached into his coat and held something out.
A letter.
Unmarked.
He didn't speak.
I opened it—and the words made my breath catch.
Kael has escaped.
The walls of the palace turned to ice.
And in the distance, where the mountains bled into mist, the last embers of war began to spark.
To be Continued...