Lady Miranna had been removed from court.
Not imprisoned—Darian didn't want scandal. She was exiled to her family's estate outside the capital, forbidden from entering the palace again. The council believed the matter closed.
But Queen Selene did not.
She knew better than to mistake silence for peace.
Miranna was too calculated, too patient. A woman like her did not bet everything on a single plan without a backup. Or three.
In the weeks that followed, strange things began to happen.
First, a shipment of grain for the city's western district vanished.
Then, Selene's personal steward was found poisoned—not dead, but near it. The poison was rare, and expensive.
Soon after, Princess Lyra's governess fell ill. And though she recovered, Selene replaced her immediately.
The queen began to suspect something larger: someone—perhaps many—were still trying to unseat her. Not through the council. Not through marriage. But through quiet destruction.
She met privately with Captain Lirael and Lord Venn.
"They are testing our defenses," she said. "Not at the palace gates—but from within the stone."
Far from the capital, in the quiet halls of her estate, Lady Miranna stared at the sky from her balcony.
She was not alone.
Across from her sat a visitor—cloaked in red, face shadowed by a hood.
"You failed," the figure said.
"I stirred the hive," Miranna replied. "The queen is distracted. The people still want a son. And Darian... he still doubts."
The figure tossed a sealed scroll onto her table.
"Plan two begins. The boy must never be born."
Miranna smiled slowly. "So we strike before he exists."
Back in Elyria, Selene continued her quiet work.
She built new loyalty in the outer towns, offered support to neutral nobles, and doubled the guards around her daughter. She met with physicians and herbalists. She asked quiet questions. She gave none of her enemies reason to act.
But her instincts grew louder.
She knew her time was short. The city was watching. The pressure to give the king a son had not gone away—it had only quieted… waiting.
And in the dead of night, as she walked the empty halls of the palace, she spoke aloud for the first time:
"I must give them what they fear—and what they need."
At the same time, Darian stood at the window of his study, staring at the stars.
He no longer knew where his power began or ended.
Selene had outsmarted his council, his allies, even his instincts. And still, he could not bring himself to love her.
But he couldn't deny it anymore—she had saved his throne more than once.
The city was stable because of her.
Yet the city still whispered:
"She has no son."
He sighed and whispered to the wind:
"Will it ever be enough?".