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Inside the Palace – Deep Night, Hours Before Dawn
The chamber was cloaked in shadows. Smoke from the hearth coiled like restless spirits, stirring with every creak of the castle walls. Outside, the wind howled with the storm's early breath, but within these stone halls, it was the stillness that suffocated.
Adana paced the length of the king's chamber, her heels clicking with ruthless rhythm, but her eyes kept straying—to the throne.
King Walter sat slumped there, draped in furs that looked heavier than his brittle frame could bear. His skin was pale, lips cracked. Each breath sounded like it had to be begged from his lungs.
"Your medicine," Adana murmured, kneeling beside him.
Her tone softened.
She pulled a small glass vial from her sleeve and steadied it at his lips. "Easy now," she whispered, as he struggled to swallow. "Small sips."
Walter coughed as the potion burned down. Adana steadied his shoulder, her hand lingering a beat too long for formality.
"I can have the physician double the herbs tomorrow," she said under her breath. "Something gentler. You're not sleeping again."
He looked at her through half-lidded eyes. "You're worried."
"I always worry," she replied, brushing his silver hair back from his forehead. "Because I still care if you live or die."
A pause.
"And because I don't want to raise this kingdom alone."
Walter gave the ghost of a smile, then winced.
"What is it now?" he rasped. "More rebel news?"
Adana rose, her eyes sharpening. "Worse. Laraine is alive and standing at the head of Cleo Hartman's rebellion. She's returned—and she's not hiding anymore."
His breath hitched faintly. "That girl…"
"And Serelith," Adana added darkly. "She's back too."
Walter's eyes flared wide. "But she's dead."
"I thought so too. But ghosts crawl out of shallow graves when vengeance calls."
He struggled to sit upright, but Adana gently eased him back down. "Let me speak," she said, her voice turning colder. "Before your blood boils."
She walked to the hearth and stared into the flames, arms crossed over her chest.
"I sent Vienna to end Laraine days ago. She hasn't. She's hesitating." A scoff escaped her. "That assassin has always had a heart she pretends not to carry."
"She failed?" Walter's voice cracked with fury. "Vienna—"
"Don't waste your strength. I'll deal with her." Adana turned, chin high, eyes flinty. "I warned you she couldn't be trusted. She follows Laraine like a stray starving for her master's hand."
Walter's brow furrowed. "And what of our options?"
"I've already begun," she replied smoothly, pulling a folded parchment from her sleeve. "Scouts found Millis. Still living in that humble cottage Laraine once called sanctuary."
Walter narrowed his gaze. "You plan to use her?"
"I plan to end this war before it starts," Adana snapped, then paused—her eyes softening. "If I can threaten Laraine's heart, maybe I won't have to threaten her blade."
But even as she spoke, her voice cracked around the edges. Her arms folded tighter over her chest.
And then, quieter "What if she doesn't spare them?"
Walter looked up slowly. "Spare who?"
Adana's mask slipped, just slightly.
"Xander. Levi."
Her voice wasn't sharp this time. It trembled with something fragile.
"They're sixteen. Still boys. Still dreaming of swords they don't know how to carry. They've never hurt anyone. They haven't seen war, Walter. They've only read about it in books."
She paced back to him, then paused beside the throne, lowering her voice as she reached for his hand. "What if Laraine doesn't make the distinction? What if she sees our sons and not her brothers?"
Walter's silence was heavy.
"She loved them once," Adana whispered, eyes glistening. "She used to hold Levi's hand when he had fevers. She used to braid Xander's hair before the coronation feasts. And now…"
Now, the girl who had once been their family would come back with fire in her lungs.
"I can handle her wrath. But them?" She looked down, finally letting herself sound afraid. "I don't want to bury our children, Walter."
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
Then his voice came hoarse and rough. "Then we must be the ones who bury her."
Adana said nothing.
She stood silently, staring into the dying fire.
And then, she pulled herself back together—stiffening her shoulders, smoothing her hair, and tucking that flicker of humanity back into its cage.
"I'll send a rider for Millis before sunrise," she said quietly. "If Laraine wants to save her, she'll have to come home in chains."
She moved toward the door—but before stepping out, she looked back at Walter.
He looked smaller now. Frailer. But when he met her gaze, something passed between them.
The shared fear of two people who had outlived their love—and feared for what that love had created.
Adana turned and left the chamber, her cloak whispering across the stone.
Outside, the wind screamed against the walls. Inside, the storm gathered at the gates.
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{Outside the King's Chamber – Moments Earlier}
A few steps beyond the gilded door, hidden in the shadows behind a pillar, two boys stood frozen.
Xander had his ear pressed lightly to the wood, expression unreadable. Levi hovered behind him, wringing the sleeve of his tunic with nervous fingers.
"We shouldn't be listening," Levi whispered.
"And yet here we are," Xander murmured.
Levi frowned. "I thought she said Father was too ill. Why is she talking to him like this now? What's happening?"
Xander didn't answer. His eyes were narrowed, strained with focus. He was trying to pick apart the pieces—until a phrase slipped through the crack of the door.
"What if Laraine doesn't make the distinction? What if she sees our sons and not her brothers?"
Levi went stiff. "Did she just—?"
"Shh," Xander breathed, but his heart had started to pound.
"I don't want to bury our children, Walter."
Xander leaned away from the door, stunned.
Levi clutched his arm. "She's afraid of Laraine. Mother. She's... afraid."
Xander's voice was low, shaken. "Then she knows something we don't."
They both looked toward the door, toward the throne room where the adults made their plans in secret.
The door creaked. Footsteps. A swish of velvet.
Xander yanked Levi back, and they ducked into the shadows of the column just as Adana passed.
She didn't see them.
She moved like a woman carved from steel—unbending, unreadable—but her eyes were rimmed red.
When her steps finally faded into the storm-lit corridor, Levi whispered, "Do you think Laraine would really hurt us?"
"I don't know," Xander said.
He looked back toward the chamber door, his voice low.
"But I think we were lied to."
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