The guard stood at attention, awaiting my decision about Livia Finchley's unexpected arrival. My mind raced through the possibilities—was this a trap? A genuine royal message? Or something far more dangerous?
"Show her to the blue drawing room," I decided firmly. "I'll meet with her first."
"Yes, Your Grace." The guard bowed and retreated.
Clara stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Isabella, if she's connected to Lord Gideon Finchley..."
"I know." I straightened my shoulders. "That's precisely why I need to assess her intentions before allowing her anywhere near Queen Seraphina."
The name Finchley carried significant weight in the current crisis. Lord Gideon Finchley was at the center of the conspiracy against the queen—the very reason Alaric and King Theron had ridden out with such urgency. My husband's parting words echoed in my mind: "Trust no one until we return."
"Should I inform the queen?" Clara asked.
"Not yet. Let me speak with our visitor first."
