Aria's POV
"We're still going," I say before anyone can argue.
Every head turns to stare at me like I've lost my mind. Maybe I have.
"Aria, you heard Gregor," Cassian says carefully, like talking to someone about to do something stupid. "It's a trap. Seraphina knows we're coming. Hundreds of soldiers will be waiting."
"Exactly. She knows we're coming." I push away from Brother Thomas despite his protests about my shoulder. "Don't you see? She's so confident we'll walk into her trap that she's put all her resources in one place. Ashford. Tomorrow."
"Which means we'll be slaughtered—"
"Or we use it against her." My mind races, seeing patterns and possibilities. "Seraphina thinks we're desperate and stupid. That we'll charge in blindly trying to capture Viktor. But what if we don't go after Viktor at all?"
Chieftain Mara leans forward, interested. "What are you suggesting, little witch?"
"I'm suggesting we make Seraphina think her trap worked while we do something completely different." I look at Cassian. "How fast can a small group reach the capital if they're not weighed down by an army?"
His eyes widen as he catches on. "Half a day. Less if they ride hard."
"And how long will it take Seraphina's ambush force at Ashford to realize we're not coming and return to the capital?"
"At least two days with that many soldiers."
"So we have a window. Maybe thirty-six hours." I turn to face everyone. "Here's what we do: Most of our forces—the Northern Clans, the soldiers, everyone visible—rides toward Ashford like we're walking into the trap. Loud. Obvious. Making sure scouts report back to Seraphina."
"While actually...?" Darius prompts.
"While a small strike team—maybe ten people—sneaks into the capital from the opposite direction. We're all outlaws anyway. Seraphina's already declared us dead. No one will be looking for us in her own castle." I lock eyes with Cassian. "We find the real evidence. The poison supplies. The payment records. Mordanna correspondence she didn't bring to her northern estate. And we find witnesses—servants, guards, anyone she hasn't killed yet who knows the truth."
"That's insane," Brother Thomas says. "Infiltrate the castle while the Queen is still there?"
"She won't be there. She'll be watching Ashford, waiting for news of our deaths. Her attention will be completely elsewhere." I'm getting excited now, the plan crystallizing. "It's the perfect distraction. While she thinks she's won, we steal everything she's been hiding."
Mara grins like a wolf. "I like it. Risky. Clever. Exactly the kind of plan that drives arrogant queens insane." She looks at Cassian. "You trust this witch's strategy, Prince?"
Cassian studies me with those storm-gray eyes. I see the war in his expression—protective instinct fighting against tactical sense.
"She's been right about everything else," he finally says. "The investigation methods. The conspiracy. Even summoning your clans without telling me." That last part has an edge to it. "Why stop trusting her now?"
"Because this could get you killed," I say quietly. "All of you. If I'm wrong—"
"Then we die fighting instead of running." He steps close, touching my face gently. "I told you—we fight together. So let's make this insane plan work."
The next hours are chaos. Splitting forces. Deciding who infiltrates the capital. Planning routes and signals.
Cassian, me, Brother Thomas, Lord Darius, and six of Cassian's most loyal soldiers make up the strike team. The rest—three thousand Northern warriors—will stage the fake assault on Ashford.
"Make noise," Cassian instructs Mara. "Campfires. War drums. Let them see you coming from miles away. Then when you're close, retreat. Make it look like you realized the trap and fled."
"And when Seraphina's forces chase us?"
"Lead them in circles. Keep them away from the capital as long as possible. We need time."
Mara clasps his arm. "May your ancestors guide you, Prince. And may your witch's cleverness save us all."
We ride out before dawn, splitting from the main force. Ten people on fast horses, heading south toward the capital while everyone else goes north toward Ashford.
My shoulder screams with every gallop, but I don't slow down. Can't. This is our only chance.
"Tell me something," Cassian says as we ride side by side. "This plan—would it work in your old world? Before you died and came here?"
I consider. "In my world, we called it asymmetric warfare. David versus Goliath. Using intelligence and misdirection to defeat a larger force. It's been working for thousands of years."
"Thousands?"
"History is long and repetitive. People make the same mistakes over and over." I glance at him. "Seraphina's mistake is thinking she's smarter than everyone else. That no one would dare challenge her after she became Queen."
"She is smart, though. Dangerously so."
"Smart people often overlook obvious solutions because they assume everyone else is thinking as complex as they are." I smile grimly. "She's expecting chess. We're playing a completely different game."
We reach the capital by midday, exhausted and sore. The city bustles with normal life—markets, merchants, people who have no idea their Queen is a murderer or that we're technically dead traitors sneaking through their streets.
"The castle has servant entrances," Darius whispers as we observe from a safe distance. "If we can get servant clothes and blend in—"
"Too risky," Brother Thomas interrupts. "They know our faces. Especially His Highness and Lady Aria. We'd be recognized immediately."
"Then we don't go through doors they're watching." I point to the eastern wall. "Is that the old aqueduct? The one that brings water into the castle?"
Cassian follows my gaze. "Yes, but it's been dry for years. My grandfather shut it down after—" He stops. "After my mother was assassinated. Someone poisoned the water supply."
"So it's abandoned. Forgotten. Probably not even guarded anymore." I meet his eyes. "Can we access it from outside the city?"
"There's a maintenance entrance about a mile east. But the tunnel would be pitch black, possibly collapsed in places, maybe flooded—"
"But it leads directly into the castle?"
"Into the lowest levels. The old dungeons and storage areas."
"Perfect. That's our entrance."
We circle around the city, avoiding main roads. Find the aqueduct entrance exactly where Cassian remembered—a stone archway covered in vines and rust, clearly unused for decades.
"This is a terrible idea," Darius mutters.
"All the best ideas are terrible," I counter, pushing through the vines.
The tunnel is exactly as bad as promised. Dark. Wet. Smells like decay and stagnant water. We light torches and wade through ankle-deep muck.
"If we die down here, I'm haunting you," Cassian says behind me.
"Get in line. I have at least three other people already planning to haunt me."
Despite everything, he laughs.
We walk for what feels like hours. The tunnel branches several times, but Cassian remembers the layout from childhood explorations. Finally, we emerge into the castle's old dungeons.
Empty. Silent. Exactly as we hoped.
"Now we search," I whisper. "We need Seraphina's private chambers, her study, anywhere she might hide evidence."
"Her rooms are in the west tower. Three floors up. Heavily guarded even with her gone." Cassian thinks. "But there's a secondary study she uses for unofficial business. In the old library. Less obvious."
We creep through abandoned corridors, avoiding the occupied areas. Once, we hear guards passing and press into shadows, holding our breath until they leave.
We reach the old library. It's massive, filled with dusty books and forgotten knowledge.
"There," Cassian points to a door half-hidden behind a bookshelf. "That's her private study."
The door is locked. I pull out lockpicks—skills I learned from a security engineer friend in my old life.
"Where did you learn that?" Brother Thomas hisses.
"My mother was very well-traveled," I lie smoothly.
The lock clicks. We slip inside.
Seraphina's secret study is everything we hoped for. Documents everywhere. Letters. Account books. And in a locked cabinet that takes me three minutes to pick—
Vials of hemlock. Carefully labeled. Dated.
"Evidence," Darius breathes. "Actual, physical evidence."
Cassian sorts through papers rapidly. "Payment records from Mordanna. Plans for destabilizing the kingdom. Orders for assassinations." His face darkens. "She documented everything. Every crime. Every betrayal."
"Because she never thought anyone would find it," I say. "She won the crown. Why would she fear exposure?"
"We need to move fast," Brother Thomas warns. "Copy what we can, take the originals of the most damning evidence—"
The door crashes open.
Guards flood in. At least twenty of them, weapons drawn.
We're trapped.
And walking through the guards, calm and smiling, is Lady Seraphina herself.
"Hello, cousin," she says sweetly. "Welcome home. I've been expecting you."
My blood turns to ice. "You knew. You knew we'd come here."
"Of course I knew. You're clever, Aria. Predictable in your cleverness." She gestures to the guards. "The ambush at Ashford was never meant to kill you. It was meant to drive you here. Where I could catch you breaking into my private chambers, stealing my documents, committing treason."
Cassian moves in front of me. "It's over, Seraphina. We have proof of everything—"
"Proof you obtained illegally while outlawed traitors. It means nothing." Her smile widens. "But watching you try is entertaining. Now—surrender. Or I'll have you killed where you stand. Starting with your precious witch."
The guards level crossbows at us. We're completely surrounded.
I should have seen this coming. Should have realized Seraphina would anticipate our move.
She didn't just set one trap. She set two. And we walked into both.
Cassian's hand finds mine, squeezes once. I love you, that squeeze says. I'm sorry.
Seraphina's eyes catch the gesture. "How touching. The Ice Prince melted for his murderess. What a story for the history books." She steps closer. "Last chance. Surrender. I promise you'll both live long enough to see each other executed."
"We'll never—" Cassian starts.
Then the library explodes with noise.
The Northern Clans pour through doors and windows—dozens of warriors, screaming war cries, axes swinging.
Chieftain Mara crashes through a window on a rope, lands beside us, grins like a maniac.
"Surprise!" she shouts. "Did you really think we'd fall for the Ashford trap?"
The guards panic. The room erupts into chaos. Mara's warriors cut through them like a storm.
Seraphina's face transforms from confident to terrified in seconds.
She runs.
"After her!" Cassian shouts.
We chase through the castle, Northern warriors at our backs. Seraphina is fast, desperate, heading for—
The throne room.
She bursts through the doors. We follow.
And stop dead.
Because sitting on the throne, very much alive, is King Aldric.
"Hello, my son," he says calmly. "I believe we need to talk."