The palace had never felt colder. Not from the stone walls or drafty corridors, but from the weight of unseen eyes watching me, waiting for me to falter. Since the acting queen's early morning visit—with her rare gifts and too-sweet smiles—I knew her intentions were more than courtesy. She wanted to sway me, to pull me into her tangled web of power. I refused, but I would not underestimate her.
Instead, I turned to my own web—a network of whispers and shadows stretching across the palace and beyond. I had entrusted my maids, Ilyra and Maren, with tasks that could cost them their lives. Their loyalty was my shield; their courage, my sword.
That evening, as dusk bled into night, Ilyra slipped into my chamber, her eyes bright with urgency but shadowed by fear.
"My lady," she whispered, "I have news. Lord Varric met with three others tonight near the old chapel ruins outside the city walls. They spoke of 'moving against the commander before the next moon.' I overheard mention of poison—and a man named Calderis."
I clenched my fists, heart pounding. Calderis—the acting queen's shadowy confidant, rumored to be ruthless and without mercy.
"Can you follow them?" I asked quietly.
Ilyra nodded, already trembling with the thought. "I've arranged for Maren to meet me. Together, we can track their movements, but it's dangerous. If they spot us—"
"We cannot let fear rule us," I cut in. "Your lives are precious, but the stakes are higher."
Hours later, cloaked in darkness and silence, Ilyra and Maren began their mission.
From my chamber's narrow window, I watched as they melted into the night, ghosts threading between the guards and shadows.
Minutes stretched like hours. Then a sharp tap at the window broke my vigil—both maids back, breathless but alive.
"Tell me everything," I commanded, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ilyra's eyes darted nervously. "They moved towards the catacombs beneath the city. It's a place the king forbids anyone to enter. We followed, hiding in the tunnels, just out of sight."
Maren added, "They spoke in hushed tones—plans to poison your water supply during the feast. They believe it will cripple your influence, leave you vulnerable."
My blood ran cold. The feast was only days away.
"But that's not all," Ilyra said, voice dropping lower. "One of them—Calderis—spoke of another player. Someone inside the palace, feeding information to the Order."
A traitor.
The betrayal cut deeper than any blade.
"We have to act," I said. "We must root out this spy before the feast. If they succeed, everything we've fought for will crumble."
The next days were a blur of preparation and quiet vigilance. I instructed my spies to blend deeper into the palace life—servants, guards, even low-ranking nobles. Every whispered word, every glance exchanged, was potential intelligence.
One evening, as I walked the outer gardens alone, a shadow detached itself from the hedges. A cloaked figure handed me a folded note before disappearing into the night.
My hands trembled as I read: "Trust no one, The serpent coils closer. Watch uour back."
I wasn't just fighting enemies without. The danger had wormed its way inside.
I settled into my chamber that night, mind racing. The chessboard was set, the players moving in secret. And I was the queen they sought to topple.
But I would not fall—not yet.
As the moon climbed higher, casting silver light across the city, I made a silent vow: I would uncover the traitor, dismantle the Order's plans, and protect my mother's fragile slumber with every ounce of my strength.
The palace shadows held many secrets. It was time I learned them all.