📍 Chapter 80 – The Crown in the Shadows
The journey back from the Dead Marshes took three days.
Rain followed them the whole way.
Not the soft kind.
The heavy, biting kind that soaked armor and blurred vision.
But Zara didn't care.
Kaelen was in her arms, swaddled tight and warm, his fingers occasionally grasping her cloak.
Cress rode behind, hood up, eyes scanning every treetop, every rider, every crow that flew too low.
Leva kept her blade drawn the whole way.
Zaire said nothing, but every glance over his shoulder screamed a single thought:
> "We shouldn't have left the palace."
---
When they arrived at the palace gates just after dawn, the air felt wrong.
Too still.
Too neat.
Too prepared.
Zara dismounted and handed Kaelen to Leva for a moment.
The gates opened.
But no fanfare. No guards rushing forward. No relief.
Just three council members waiting in black cloaks.
Lord Tyrel. Lady Moren. Chancellor Dax.
Zara narrowed her eyes.
"Where is everyone?"
Dax stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, you've been absent for days. The Council has convened in your absence."
"I did not abdicate."
Tyrel raised a brow.
"No. But you left the throne. Without formal notice. During wartime."
Zara's jaw clenched. "You're quoting policy at me?"
Moren bowed her head. "We're quoting precedent."
Then she stepped aside.
Behind her stood **Venmire soldiers**.
Dozens of them.
Inside Zara's own courtyard.
---
Leva took a step forward, but Zaire caught her wrist.
"Not here," he said under his breath.
Zara kept her chin high.
"I see you've let snakes into my house."
Chancellor Dax folded his hands. "They came offering protection."
"They came offering a leash."
Zara looked to the left, where a flag she had never seen now flew beside her own.
Venmire's hawk.
> *A bloodless invasion.*
She'd feared it might come.
She hadn't expected it so soon.
---
They led her to the council chamber.
Cress and Kaelen were not allowed to enter.
Zara fought the urge to scream as they took her child from Leva's arms.
"I'll be right back," she whispered to him.
Kaelen blinked sleepily.
Then was gone, carried by a cloaked maid she didn't recognize.
Leva memorized the woman's face.
---
Inside the council chamber, everything was colder than she remembered.
No torches. No warmth.
Just ten chairs — all filled.
All watching her.
Tyrel began.
"Your Majesty, due to your unexplained absence, the Council has voted to appoint a regent."
Zara didn't sit.
"I'm not dead."
Moren nodded. "But you are compromised. Emotionally. Politically. You're a mother now. Your focus must be the child."
Zara stepped forward.
"My focus has *always* been the kingdom. I bled for this crown. I've buried family for this crown. I will not be replaced."
Dax cleared his throat.
"You already have been."
He handed her a scroll.
Zara read the top line.
Then stopped.
> "Treaty of Unity and Regency: Northlands & Venmire."
Her name was at the bottom.
Signed.
Forged.
Zara looked up, eyes blazing.
"This is treason."
Tyrel nodded. "It is. But the kind that keeps the kingdom alive."
Zara let the scroll fall.
Then smiled coldly.
"You made one mistake."
Moren frowned. "What's that?"
Zara's smile widened.
> "You didn't kill me first."
---
In the outer halls, Cress paced like a wolf.
Leva stood still.
The maid who took Kaelen had vanished.
No one would speak her name.
The guards claimed to know nothing.
Zaire searched the upper halls, the nursery, the garden.
Nothing.
It was happening again.
But this time… they were inside the lion's mouth.
---
Zara left the chamber twenty minutes later.
Face pale.
Eyes hard.
Leva approached instantly.
"Where's Kaelen?"
Zara didn't answer.
Cress stepped forward.
"They've already moved him."
Zara nodded once.
"To the East Wing. Surrounded by Venmire guards."
Leva hissed.
Zaire returned just then.
"They've set a new schedule. No access. No nursemaid changes. The only person allowed in is a woman named **Lady Ilra**."
Cress froze.
"I know her."
Everyone turned.
Cress stepped closer.
"She trained assassins for the Raven before she vanished. Took a Venmire banner five years ago."
Zara whispered, "They plan to raise him against me."
---
That night, Zara didn't sleep.
She didn't cry.
She didn't beg.
She wrote.
A letter.
Four pages long.
To her people.
To her enemies.
To her son.
Then she handed it to Auren, who had slipped in through a tunnel only three still remembered.
"Distribute copies. In every village. Every market. By morning."
He took it.
And vanished into the dark.
---
At sunrise, the city was reading.
Everywhere.
The same words.
Zara's words.
> "To the Kingdom I love —
>
> I have not fled. I have not failed. I have not fallen.
>
> I was betrayed from within.
>
> The council you trusted let a foreign army inside your walls.
> They took my child.
> They took your gold.
> They wear smiles now, but they will draw swords soon.
>
> When they ask you to kneel, remember:
> I stood for you when no one else did.
>
> And I will stand again.
>
> I am Zara.
>
> I am Queen.
>
> And I am not done."
---
Riots began by noon.
Venmire banners were torn down.
Councilmen fled into cellars.
Zara remained in her chamber, Kaelen's name pressed against her lips like a vow.
By nightfall, Auren returned with news.
"Half the city stands with you. Merchants. Farmers. Old guards."
Zaire added, "The other half is waiting to see what you do next."
Zara turned to Leva.
"Then let's show them."
---
She walked into the throne room without warning.
Alone.
No armor.
No baby.
Just truth.
The council tried to stop her.
Venmire guards moved in.
But the people were already gathering.
Outside the windows.
On the rooftops.
On their knees.
Watching.
Waiting.
And Zara spoke.
Not like a queen.
But like a mother.
---
"I am not perfect.
I have been wounded.
I have been cruel.
I have made mistakes."
She paused.
"But I have never knelt.
And I never will."
She looked at the guards.
"At any moment, you may take my crown."
She stepped forward, hands raised.
"But if you do…"
She pulled a small blade from her sleeve.
Held it out.
"I promise you — you will never wear it."
---
The guards didn't move.
Not because they feared her.
But because the city behind her had begun to chant her name.
Zara.
Zara.
Zara.
And somewhere in the East Wing, a baby woke.
He did not cry.
He smiled.