Two days ago, I was standing in my chamber, looking out through the window, when something felt wrong. In the garden below, I saw a man approaching Elara. He was unfamiliar. The way she moved—panicked, desperate—told me everything. She tried to run away from him.
I didn't think. I didn't call the guards. I only reacted.
I rushed outside, my heart racing, fear clouding every thought. But when I reached the garden, they were gone. I searched frantically, then ran to Elara's room. The door was open.
Inside, chaos.
Elara was fighting him—struggling with all her strength. The man forced her down, trying to inject something into the area between her shoulder and her chest. I froze for a heartbeat too long. Elara looked at me, her eyes wide, her voice shaking.
"Your Majesty… it's him. Sani Scabar's spy. He came for revenge because I revealed his identity. Please—run. They want you."
But I didn't run.
I tried to reach her, to save her, but I was already too late. Elara collapsed to the floor, poisoned, barely conscious. The spy turned toward me. His grip on my shoulder was brutal. Before I could scream, before I could fight back, he injected me too.
Now—Margaret paused.
She revealed her shoulder to Laury. Near her breast, a dark scar stained her pale skin—proof of what had been done.
Then she continued.
I woke up in a chamber, lying on the cold floor. My head was burning, my body weak. A man entered the room and laughed when he saw my eyes open.
"You woke up, idiot," he said. "They injected the wrong quantity of poison."
I asked what had happened. He laughed again. "I don't think Salvania will win this war. Especially when your lover arrives too."
Then he left.
The fever came quickly. The wound began to bleed. I needed help—or I would die there. I called out to the guard standing outside the door.
"Please," I said. "Let me out. Imagine your sister… your mother… being here."
He laughed. "Do you think words like that will help you? Don't mess with me."
"I'll give you whatever you want," I whispered.
The door opened slowly. "Whatever I want?" he said. "Then how about a kiss—for a handsome man?"
I looked at him with tired eyes and answered quietly, "Of course. Where is this handsome man?"
His smile faded. He locked the door again.
That's when I saw it—a small window, high above. I crawled toward it with what little strength I had left. I broke it with my bare hands. Glass cut deep into my skin. Blood everywhere. I didn't care. All I cared about was Salvania.
When I escaped, I could barely move. I crawled through the streets until a man stood before me.
"Please," I begged. "No. I need to go. I have responsibility on my shoulders."
He caught me before I fell—one hand on my waist, the other steadying me.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you, Your Majesty," he said gently. "Let me help you. No one here knows your face. If you avoid the guards, you'll be safe. You must go undercover."
I looked at him, confused, my vision fading.
"And how do you know who I am?" I asked.
He didn't even have time to answer.
I lost consciousness.