📍 Chapter 69 – The Knife That Smiled
It began like any other morning in wartime.
Gray skies. Wet stones. Cold air slipping under doors.
But in the war room, the tension was sharper than steel.
Zara sat at the round table, her hand resting over her stomach as Rowen debriefed the night patrol.
"We caught two more spies," Rowen said. "Both posing as laundry staff. One had a sigil sewn into his boot heel — a raven feather stitched in black thread."
Leva cursed under her breath.
Zara remained calm.
"Interrogate them separately," she said. "No pain unless they resist. Offer food. Let them feel like they're winning. Then strip them clean."
Rowen nodded and left.
Zaire stood quietly by the door, arms folded.
He hadn't slept in days.
Neither had Zara.
They didn't need to say much to each other anymore. One glance was enough.
Leva placed another scroll on the table. "This list came in from the border guards. One of our convoys was ambushed near Graymoor."
Zara frowned. "Who led the guard unit?"
"Captain Alon."
Zara tilted her head. "Wasn't he moved to internal patrol last week?"
Leva blinked. "You're right. He was."
Silence fell.
Zara turned to Tavi.
"Who signed his reassignment?"
Tavi hesitated. "I… I'm not sure. I'll check the records."
Zara's eyes narrowed.
"Tavi. Did you sign it?"
Tavi looked at her — and for the first time in months…
…*lied.*
"No," she said too quickly. "I didn't touch that file."
Zara saw it.
The flicker in her eyes.
The slight tremor in her fingers.
Her throat tightening too fast.
She didn't say anything.
Not yet.
---
That evening, Zara called for the record books herself.
She waited until the others were gone.
Alone in her chamber, with only the sound of crackling fire, she flipped through the parchment until she found it.
Captain Alon's name.
Reassigned by: **Tavina Arel**
Her blood ran cold.
*Why?*
Tavi had been with her since the beginning. Loyal. Fierce. Always the first to speak up when Zara doubted herself.
Was it fear?
Was it bribe?
Or was it something worse?
She didn't sleep that night.
She watched the door instead.
Waiting.
---
At sunrise, Zara stood alone in the gardens.
The air smelled of mint and wet stone. The wind carried birdsong and distant hammering from the guard yard.
She waited until the bell rang for council.
Then sent a private summons.
Tavi came.
Her braid freshly tied. Her boots spotless.
She bowed quickly. "You asked for me?"
Zara studied her.
"I need you to check the west tower," she said softly. "We're moving the pregnant servants back there. I want eyes I trust."
Tavi nodded. "Of course."
She turned to leave.
But Zara stepped closer.
"Tavi?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you do it?"
Tavi froze.
"What?"
"Captain Alon," Zara said. "You signed his reassignment. You lied about it."
Tavi's back stiffened.
"Zara—"
"Don't lie again," Zara said quietly. "Please."
Tavi turned slowly.
And her face changed.
The warmth vanished.
The smile dropped.
All that was left was a tired, hard truth.
"…because they have my brother," she whispered.
Zara's breath caught.
Tavi's voice shook, but her hands stayed still.
"The Raven took him a month ago. Sent me a finger. Said if I didn't start slipping them small things — patrol changes, supply routes — they'd send the rest."
Zara's eyes burned.
"Tavi… why didn't you come to me?"
"Because what would you do?" Tavi snapped. "Trade your child for mine? Risk the entire war for one boy you've never met?"
Silence.
Zara stepped closer. "You could've trusted me."
"I *did*," Tavi said. "But this throne... this war… it changes everything. You don't get to protect everyone. Sometimes you choose."
Zara swallowed hard.
"Then I choose you."
Tavi blinked.
"I'll send a retrieval unit. We'll find him. We'll bring him home. But you have to help me. Now."
Tavi hesitated.
Then her eyes shifted.
Behind Zara.
Zara turned too late.
A gloved hand slammed into her back — not a blade, but a hard jab, right below her ribs. Sharp pain exploded through her side.
She gasped — falling to one knee.
A second figure stepped from the shadows.
A man in gray, masked, fast.
The Raven.
Tavi screamed, "NO!"
But the man didn't stop. He reached for Zara's throat — but she rolled, kicked hard, and scrambled up.
The door burst open.
Leva charged in — sword drawn.
She slashed once — twice — and the Raven fell, blood pouring from his chest.
Zara gasped for breath, leaning against the wall.
Leva grabbed her. "You're bleeding."
Tavi stood frozen.
Zara's eyes met hers.
And it wasn't hate in Zara's face.
It was heartbreak.
---
Hours later, Zara sat in the healing wing.
Her wound wasn't deep — bruised muscle, not stabbed — but the pain lingered.
Tavi sat across from her, in chains.
Her eyes red. Her voice gone.
Zara said nothing for a long time.
Then finally spoke.
"We found your brother."
Tavi looked up.
"He's alive. In a holding cell beneath Graymoor. Leva's sending a unit tonight."
Tavi broke.
Tears spilled silently.
Zara stood, slowly.
Walked to her.
And knelt.
"I trusted you," she whispered.
"I'm sorry," Tavi choked.
Zara nodded.
"I believe you."
Then she stood.
"Take her to the north tower. No chains. No guards. She stays. Helps the healers. She's not to leave the grounds — but she is not a prisoner."
Leva raised a brow. "Mercy?"
"No," Zara said softly. "Justice. Tavi made her choice. Now I make mine."
---
That night, Zara sat by the nursery window.
The child kicked again — stronger now.
She placed a hand over the bump and whispered,
"One day, you'll ask me how I won this war."
She smiled sadly.
"And I'll say — not with swords. But with mercy."
---
But in the dark halls of Graymoor…
The Raven was already preparing the next blow.
And this time?
It would come from *a name Zara thought was dead*.