So it begins.
He didn’t trust rrow. The man was a master of veiled words and long gas. His sudden appearance wasn’t diplomacy; it was a calculated move. And the fact that he acknowledged Liora... Lucien’s jaw tightened.
Behind him, Rowan entered, the door closing with a click.
"You saw it?" Lucien asked, not turning.
"I did." Rowan’s voice was grim. "He didn’t just speak to the court. He paused. He studied Liora like she was an unopened scroll hiding state secrets."
Lucien finally turned, tossing the letter onto the table.
"He’s probing."
Rowan frowned. "Do you think he knows about her parentage?"
"Not yet," Lucien said. "But he’s trying to find out why she matters to . That’s dangerous."
Rowan gave him a pointed look. "She does matter to you."
Lucien didn’t respond.
He didn’t need to.
The silence was answer enough.
Back in her chamber, Liora paced. The walls were too quiet. She could still hear rrow’s smooth voice and see the way his eyes locked onto hers like he already knew she was more than what she claid to be.
A knock. Soft. Cautious.
She opened the door to find a maid, not one of hers.
"From His Highness," the maid said, offering a small sealed note.
Lucien’s seal.
Inside, a single line.
"Do not speak to rrow. I’ll explain why it was tonight."
Liora stared at the ink. Her fingers clenched the paper.
She had no intention of speaking to that man.
But she needed answers.
Now.
Elsewhere in the court, Lord rrow leaned back in his guest quarters, swirling a glass of wine in his hand.
"She’s clever," he muttered.
Across from him, a thin, wiry man with parchnt-stained fingers shifted uneasily.
"You believe she’s the girl from...?"
"I don’t believe," rrow interrupted. "I know."
The man looked even more nervous.
rrow smiled.
"I want her watched. And not like the fools the palace sends. No one from Lilian’s circle either; they’re too focused on Lucien."
He tapped a finger on the table. "The girl is the key. If she bends, the prince falls. If she stands..."
He trailed off.
Then smirked, "We bend her."
As night fell, Liora stepped into the hidden passage between her room and the west wing. Rowan was waiting, lantern in hand.
"He’s ready," he said softly.
Liora followed, heart drumming.
Sothing told her whatever Lucien was about to say would change the ga completely.
And she wasn’t sure she was ready.
The chamber was darker than usual; lanterns were lit but dimd, as though the secrets about to unfold demanded shadows.
Lucien stood alone, hands behind his back, gaze fixed on a map pinned across the wall. Red markings crossed the eastern borders. Circles. Notes. Arrows.
Liora stepped in quietly. She didn’t speak, but he heard her.
He always did.
"Shut the door," Lucien said. His tone wasn’t sharp, but it left no room for disobedience.
Liora obeyed. She took a slow breath, walking closer, her eyes falling on the parchnt he studied. She had never seen it before or him like this.
Focused. Cold. Strategic.
He wasn’t just the disgraced prince.
He was sothing more.
"What is it?" she asked finally.
Lucien turned. "Do you know who Lord Caldrin rrow is?"
"I saw him today... He looked like the kind of man who knows far too much," Liora answered truthfully.
Lucien’s lip lifted, not quite a smile. "Accurate."
He walked to the table, pulling out a second scroll. He unfurled it slowly.
"This country is balanced on two legs. One is the court. The other is the Eastern Alliance."
Liora frowned. "That alliance was sealed decades ago."
"And now it’s breaking."
He placed a finger on a small crest near the river lines. "rrow’s family rules the outermost estates near the border. They were the first to accept Eastern coin. And now..."
Lucien glanced at her. "He’s here. Not to nd peace. But to test weaknesses."
Liora took a step forward. "Why tell ?"
"Because you’re one of them."
Her brows shot up. "One of them?"
Lucien’s gaze didn’t waver. "You think you were sent to as a burden. A punishnt. A concubine to a fallen prince. But your blood is older than most of this court. Your mother’s house was allied to one of the ancient military clans. Forgotten... buried, yes, but not by everyone."
He pulled a parchnt from a drawer and handed it to her.
It was a rough sketch, but clear enough.
A woman. Her eyes, her posture.
It looked like Liora.
"This is from an old record," Lucien said. "Her na was Althea Miral. Your mother."
Liora’s heart thudded hard. She’d only ever heard the na in whispers.
"She was involved in the last border war. She saved a prince, not , not Alden. One before us. She vanished shortly after. So say she died. Others say she ran. Either way..." Lucien let out a quiet breath, "...people rember. People like rrow."
Liora stared at the parchnt.
So that’s why he looked at like I was a puzzle already solved.
"You think rrow will use ?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Lucien nodded. "If he thinks you’re unaware, yes. And if he thinks you do know, he’ll assu you’re hiding sothing bigger."
Liora lowered the sketch. "So what do we do?"
Lucien finally gave a ghost of a smile.
"We don’t let him control the board. We feed him the wrong pieces."
He stepped closer.
"And you, Liora Miral, are going to be the most dangerous lie we’ve ever told."
She felt the thrill and the fear of stepping into a ga she never knew she was part of.
But this ti... she wouldn’t be the pawn.
Lord Caldrin rrow did not co alone.
He had arrived under the pretense of diplomacy, escorted by only four guards — and yet, in the span of three days, he had t with five ministers, hosted a private dinner for two provincial nobles, and quietly slipped a letter to High Chancellor rek.
The court noticed. The court always noticed.
But no one said a word. Not yet.
rrow knew how to keep mouths shut and ears busy.
"I must complint His Majesty’s reforms," he said smoothly, sipping from his goblet at the afternoon court. "Especially in land taxation. Efficient. Bold."
King Alden, seated on the high dais, gave a asured nod. "Efficiency is the goal, Lord rrow. But boldness often makes enemies."
"Indeed." rrow smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. "Bold n are either revered... or beheaded."
A quiet ripple passed through the courtiers, an unspoken hum of tension.
Lucien stood to the side, watching. Not beside the king. Not seated like the others. Just... watching.
rrow tilted his goblet toward him. "Your Highness, it has been too long. You’ve kept yourself... quiet."
Lucien didn’t flinch. "Quiet things live longer."
Another round of whispers.
But rrow was not here to provoke. Not directly. He turned back to Alden with a courteous bow.
"I do, however, bear news. Unsettling, I’m afraid. One of the border villages has reported sightings of Eastern scouts. Ard, mounted... not traders."
Alden’s expression hardened.
"And you bring this now?"
"I wished to confirm before causing alarm. But the evidence mounts." rrow passed a scroll to the steward. "Your Majesty, the village of Fernwatch lies within your sister’s dowry lands."
Lady Layla paled slightly where she stood.
Lucien’s jaw clenched.
Liora, from her corner near the concubines’ gallery, noted the exchange. She had no right to speak, not here, but her instincts burned. Sothing about rrow’s timing was too convenient.
"Let it be recorded," Alden said, his voice steady, "we will send an envoy to Fernwatch. And if scouts are indeed present, it will be treated as an act of aggression."
"May I offer assistance?" rrow interjected. "So of my n are familiar with the terrain..."
"No," Lucien cut in, stepping forward for the first ti. "The envoy will be of royal blood. Not rchants."
The court hushed.
rrow raised a brow. "You volunteer?"
Lucien smiled coldly. "No. But my brother will appoint soone loyal."
That single word, loyal, stung more than a slap.
Alden glanced at Lucien. Then at rrow.
"This court is adjourned," he declared.
As the courtiers dispersed like anxious birds, rrow turned slowly, his eyes eting Liora’s for a fraction too long.
She felt the weight of it. The calculation.
He knows .
And now, he had made his move.
The day after court adjourned, whispers beca movent.
Not all ssages were sent by doves, and not all secrets traveled in scrolls. So drifted between clasped hands, passed through servant halls, or exchanged in silken veils behind drawn carriages.
And in one such carriage, seated in the shadowed corner of a discreet tea house near the minister’s quarters, Beatrice lifted her veil slightly and whispered to the man across from her.
"I warned you not to act so soon."
The man sipped his dark tea, eyes glinting. "I didn’t act. I only offered knowledge. You think Queen Dowager Lilian wouldn’t approve of a little... reminder of Fernwatch’s position?"
"She would’ve preferred not to provoke Alden or Lucien," Beatrice hissed. "Lucien already suspects you."
"Let him." The man smiled. "The more he suspects , the less he sees what’s underneath."
Beatrice narrowed her eyes. "Liora?"
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