Chapter Continuation
In the early morning, before the city fully woke, Laury stood before the Queen.
He told her everything.
The foreign accents.
The men from Sani Scabar.
The girl.
The house.
Every detail of the night he had not slept through.
Margaret did not hesitate.
"Find her," she said calmly. "And bring her to the castle."
Laury bowed once and left immediately.
He returned to the same house. He knocked. And knocked again. Harder this time. The door remained silent. No movement. No answer.
He turned away—
and froze.
"Laury."
Emily stood behind him.
She ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment, everything else disappeared. They laughed softly, relieved, happy to see each other after days apart.
"What are you doing here?" she asked gently.
"I'm looking for a girl who lives here," he answered. "I need her for something important."
Emily paused—but didn't question him.
Before she could speak, a woman's voice called from inside.
"Emily!"
Her mother.
Emily smiled. "Good luck, love," she said, kissing his cheek before leaving. Her trust in him was complete. Unquestioned.
Laury stood there a moment longer.
Then an old woman appeared beside him, a stack of dusty books in her arms.
"Young man," she said, narrowing her eyes, "everyone talks about you."
Laury frowned. "About me?"
"I don't think you're looking for the kind of girl who lives here," she continued.
"Why would you say that?"
She scoffed. "She spends her days in clubs. Comes back drunk every night. Everyone knows it."
Laury didn't react.
Fearless.
Reckless.
Unnoticed.
That's exactly why she mattered.
He thanked the woman and headed toward the nearest club.
Inside, music throbbed like a heartbeat. Conversations died the moment he entered. Eyes followed him—whispers spreading fast.
He spotted her immediately.
Laury grabbed her wrist and pulled her out without a word. Jealous stares burned into his back.
At her house, he made her wash her face. Waited until her eyes cleared just enough.
"You're coming with me," he said.
She laughed weakly. "Where?"
"The castle."
She blinked. "That's new."
She wasn't fully sober—but she followed.
At the Castle
She curtsied clumsily before the Queen.
Laury didn't let go of her hand. Not once.
Margaret studied her silently.
"Speak," the Queen ordered.
The girl leaned back in her chair and smiled—slow, sharp, dangerous.
"You want to know about Sani Scabar?" she said. "Fine."
The room went still.
"They didn't just send spies," she continued. "They sent planners. Three groups. One already inside the soldiers' camp."
Laury's grip tightened.
Margaret's eyes darkened. "How do you know?"
"Because I helped them get in," the girl said calmly.
Laury turned sharply. "What?"
She shrugged. "Relax. I didn't betray you. I betrayed them."
She leaned forward.
"I pretended to be drunk so they'd talk. Men like them always talk when they think a woman is stupid."
Silence.
Then she added, almost casually—
"One of them mentioned a name last night. A soldier they're watching closely. Someone they want either turned… or dead."
Laury's chest tightened.
Margaret's voice cut through the air.
"Who?"
The girl smiled.
"I can't reminber well i was not that sober"
Laury's blood ran cold.
"You will stay here," the Queen said. "You will tell us everything."
The girl tilted her head, amused. "Looks like I already did."
And for the first time—
Laury realized this girl wasn't chaos.
She was a weapon.