The dream still clung to like smoke.
I sat at the edge of my bed, sweat clinging to my skin, my breath catching in my throat as though the blade Caelum drove into all those years ago had found again. The mory wasn’t just mory anymore—it was prophecy, promise, warning. His words rang louder than any screams.
You won’t escape again.
My fingers trembled as I pressed them to my temples, trying to slow the frantic drumbeat of my pulse. But I couldn’t unsee it. The white hall. The blood. The gods watching in silence. The throne, empty and accusing.
Soone knocked.
I didn’t answer.
The door creaked open anyway.
Kieran.
His silhouette was carved in concern, his armor half-fastened, his hair damp from a rushed wash. "You scread."
"I’m fine," I said hoarsely.
"You were not." He stepped in, closed the door behind him. "Fiona heard it from two corridors down."
I tried to shake it off, to stand and act like nothing cracked inside , but my knees nearly gave out. Kieran caught , his arms strong, grounding.
"Sit down," he murmured, guiding gently back to the edge of the bed.
"I’m fine," I repeated.
"You’re not."
"I can’t afford not to be."
His eyes searched mine. "Tell what you saw."
I hesitated. But the images burned behind my eyelids, clawing for a voice.
"He was there," I whispered. "Caelum. I saw the betrayal again... the throne room... but it wasn’t a mory this ti. It felt like he was reaching for again. Like he’s close. Too close."
Kieran went still. "You think he’s near?"
"I think..." My voice caught. "I think he’s already started pulling strings."
He sat beside . "Then we strike before he strikes deeper."
"No," I said. "Not yet. We can’t. I don’t even know where to aim."
A silence stretched between us.
Then a sharp knock split the air. One of the guards entered, his face pale.
"My lady," he said, breathless. "Another ssenger’s been found. He was carrying this."
He held out a bloodied scroll.
I took it carefully. The wax seal had already been cracked. Inside, the parchnt was scrawled with angular writing—ink that shimred faintly with forbidden magic.
"You are crumbling," it read. "One piece at a ti. We’re only hastening the inevitable. Soon, not even your na will be rembered."
No signature. No crest.
Just cruelty.
I lowered the scroll, rage simring low in my spine. "They’re mocking ."
"They’re trying to bait you," Kieran corrected.
"Then maybe it’s ti I take the bait."
He frowned. "Athena—"
"We’ve waited long enough." I stood, shoving aside the fear that had clung to for days. "We smoke them out. We break them before they break us."
Before Kieran could argue, another knock ca. This ti, Fiona entered.
"We found sothing else," she said. "In Marin’s old quarters."
She handed a small stone pendant. Its surface shimred faintly, runes carved so small they were almost invisible.
"A listening charm," she said. "Old. Powerful. Embedded in her wall. It’s been feeding conversations from your war room to soone else."
I clenched my jaw.
"How long?"
"Months, maybe longer."
"Then everything we’ve planned," I said darkly, "everything we’ve thought was secret—"
"Isn’t."
I turned away, pacing. "I want every wall swept. Every chamber, even mine."
Fiona nodded.
When she left, Kieran stood slowly. "We can’t trust anyone."
"No," I agreed. "But we can still scare them."
That afternoon, I called an open forum.
It was held in the Great Courtyard, the sa place where centuries of kings and queens once addressed their people. The stone arches frad the sky in sharp slivers. Banners whipped in the wind, each one bearing my crest—the moon intertwined with fla.
I stood at the center, Kieran beside , Fiona just behind.
The nobles gathered first, followed by rchants, guards, blacksmiths, the common folk who had clung to this broken kingdom with bleeding hands. Word had spread about the assassin. The failed poisoning. The whispers of Caelum.
They were afraid.
I wanted them to be angry.
When the crowd had stilled, I stepped forward.
"They want you to doubt ," I said, voice echoing. "They want you to believe I am weak. That I am vulnerable. That the kingdom is crumbling beneath your feet."
Murmurs swept through the crowd.
"They send assassins in the dark. Lies through ssengers. They hide in shadows because they fear the light."
More voices now. Anger, not fear.
"But I do not fear them," I continued. "Because I have already faced death. I have already faced the gods. And I am still standing."
A hush.
"I will not run. I will not yield. And I swear to you, by the blood of the moon and the ashes of the last war, I will burn down anyone who tries to steal this realm again."
The roar was deafening.
Kieran watched , pride burning behind his quiet stare.
But I saw the cost in the faces of others. The cracks beneath the strength. I knew it wasn’t over.
Not even close.
That night, I sat alone in the war room, studying the flickering map of rebel activity, tracing every red dot with narrowed eyes.
A voice startled .
"You should rest."
Kieran.
He leaned against the doorfra, arms crossed.
"I can’t," I said.
"You have to."
I turned to him. "Do you know what I keep thinking about?"
He waited.
"The first ti I saw Caelum," I said. "Before the betrayal. Before the war. He was kind. Or he pretended well enough. I trusted him with everything. And I never saw it coming."
Kieran walked to , stopping just inches away. "You’re not that girl anymore."
"I know." My voice cracked. "But the pain... it still knows how to find ."
His fingers brushed my cheek. "So let it. And let it pass."
For a mont, I leaned into him. Just for a breath.
Then another knock.
Fiona again, pale, tense. "Another ssage. Left outside the barracks."
She handed a smaller scroll. This ti, the writing was cleaner. More elegant.
"Athena," it read. "You are unworthy of the throne. And soon, you will be unworthy of anything."
I crushed the scroll in my hand.
"I want guards doubled again," I snapped. "I want the entire noble wing locked down until I say otherwise."
"Yes, my lady."
When she left, Kieran watched .
"What if they’re right?" I asked, voice low.
"They’re not."
"But what if I never get my power back?"
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped close, took my face in his hands, and pressed his forehead to mine.
"Then we fight anyway."
My eyes burned.
"We fight," I whispered back.
Together, we stared at the moon rising through the shattered window above us.
And I made a promise in silence.
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