The scent of rare lilies hung heavy in the air, a perfume of power and poise.
Lady Selene sat on the edge of the velvet chaise, her silken gown gathered in trembling fists. Her eyes were red-rimmed, cheeks flushed with frustration. Queen Maravelle stood by the window, elegant and composed, watching the sky darken over Vargorath's spires.
"I love him," Selene said suddenly, her voice breaking. "You know I do. I've waited for him, believed in what you promised."
The queen turned slowly, her expression unreadable. "And he will be yours." she said evenly. "But you must have patience. Thornak is… difficult."
Selene's lower lip trembled. "Because of her... that girl. The one he brought into the castle like some..."
Maravelle's gaze sharpened, a flicker of disdain passing through her expression. "She is a passing complication. One I intend to resolve. You will not be replaced by some orphaned stray."
"I gave up everything," Selene whispered. "For him."
"Control yourself, Selene," Maravelle said coolly. "This is not the time for tantrums."
"He won't even look at me, Maravelle. He avoids me at every turn!"
The queen moved closer and gently took Selene's hands. "And you shall have him child. But we must be patient. A king's heart is not so easily moved, especially when he believes fate has other plans."
Selene's voice sharpened. "You said I would be queen."
"And you still can be," Maravelle replied smoothly. "But for now, you will stay here. As my guest. Let Thornak see your strength, your grace remind him of what he could have, were he to choose wisely."
Selene drew in a shaky breath, nodding.
Queen Maravelle offered a rare smile. On her writing desk, she reached for a parchment and sealed it with her royal sigil and handed it to a waiting attendant.
"Thornak will come around." She assured Selene
...
Lara turned the corner with a soft smile on her face, still immersed in the thoughts of the book she had been reading. She nearly bumped into a tall, impeccably dressed woman who stopped in her tracks, eyes narrowing at the sight of her.
Selene took a deliberate step back, her gaze sweeping over Lara with unhidden disdain. "Well. They're letting all kinds wander the royal corridors now, aren't they?"
Lara blinked, confused but polite. "I'm the king's guest."
Selene's smile sharpened. "Ah. So you must be the stray he picked up."
Lara's posture stiffened, but she kept her voice calm. "Excuse me?"
Selene leaned in slightly, her tone syrupy. "I just wasn't expecting His Majesty's standards to… fall so low." She tilted her head, faux sympathy in her eyes. "But I suppose every palace adopts a few strays now and then."
Lara didn't answer, jaw tightening.
"Well, do enjoy your little visit," Selene added, already turning to walk past with her servant trailing behind. "While it lasts."
Lara stood there for a moment, her hands clenched at her sides as Selene's heels clicked away down the corridor. Her cheeks burned, not from embarrassment, but indignation.
"Lady Lara!"
She turned as Dorian came jogging up behind her, holding the small leather notebook she had left on the table in the library.
"Here is your notebook," he said, offering it with a faint smile, until he noticed the look on her face. "Are you all right?"
She took the notebook slowly. "Who was that woman just now?"
Dorian's expression darkened slightly. "Selene. Lady Selene of Silverfen. Daughter of Alpha Andros. She arrived this morning with Queen Maravelle."
Lara glanced back down the corridor. "She didn't seem very friendly."
Dorian gave a short laugh, humorless. "She rarely is, unless she needs something. And she's had her eye on the king for some time."
Lara's stomach twisted faintly, but she nodded. "I see."
"Don't let her get to you," Dorian said, his voice gentler now.
Lara gave a small, grateful smile. "Thanks for the notebook."
Dorian nodded and walked beside her, quietly protective, as they returned down the hall.
The chamberlain entered Queen Maravelle's chambers with measured steps, her white hair pinned in a precise coil, her face serene but her eyes sharp with intelligence. She had come promptly, summoned by the Queen's attendant without delay. Reaching the center of the room, she bowed low with practiced grace.
"I received your message, Your Majesty," she said softly, her tone respectful, yet steady.
Queen Maravelle gave a slow nod, her expression unreadable as she studied the older woman. "You have served this palace for many years, Chamberlain Ysara. I know I can trust you with... delicate matters."
Ysara straightened, her voice smooth and steady. "My loyalty is to you, Your Majesty. Whatever you require."
Maravelle turned to a side table and picked up a folded parchment, sealed with wax. "This concerns the girl Lara. I believe she is not who she claims to be and I need eyes within her chambers."
"Her maid… Mira. She's young, loyal to the girl, but not immune to pressure. She's already started speaking, though she thinks it's harmless." She proceeded to inform the Queen of everything she had learnt.
Maravelle's lips curved into a slow smile. "Excellent. Sometimes, the smallest cracks let in the most light."
The chamberlain inclined her head again. "What would you have me do next, yYour Highness?"
"For now," Maravelle said, reaching into her cloak, "you wait. Observe. Listen. And when I say move…" She extended a small velvet pouch, its weight unmistakable. "You move."
The woman took it without hesitation, tucking it into her sleeve.
"Thank you for your loyalty," Maravelle murmured, stepping past her toward the window. "Remain unseen. Let the wolf think his den is safe."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you."
The chamberlain turned and vanished into the shadows of the corridor. Her footsteps made no sound, her cloak brushing the cold stone. Outside, the wind howled faintly, like a warning.
Maravelle did not turn to look. Her eyes remained fixed on the night beyond the forests.
"Let the games begin." She murmured.