The morning dawned pale and gray, a hush blanketing the palace like a secret held between clenched teeth.
Aveline stood at her balcony, her gaze fixed on the gardens below. Servants moved like ants—efficient, silent. Too silent.
The High Magister had already begun to tighten the noose. She could feel it in the air—in the sidelong glances, in the way conversations shifted the moment she entered a room.
Behind her, Elise fussed with the clasps of her gown.
"Word is spreading about you and Prince Lucien," Elise murmured. "The court has never been so alive."
Aveline didn't smile. "Alive… or hunting?"
Elise hesitated, then quietly said, "Lady Calista sent word. She wants to meet. Discreetly."
Aveline's brows lifted. That was unexpected.
"Where?"
"The conservatory. Just before luncheon."
Aveline turned from the window, her expression cooling into resolve. "Very well. Have guards positioned—but not close. If Calista wants discretion, we'll give it to her."
Elise hesitated again. "Do you trust her?"
"No," Aveline said. "But I trust her ambition. She won't betray me until she has something better to gain."
She strode to the door, skirts sweeping behind her like a rising tide.
Today, she would meet her most dangerous rival in daylight.
And she would not blink.
The conservatory was an opulent cage of glass and gold, warmed by enchanted sunlight and filled with the scent of blooming star lilies and ghost orchids. It was a place meant for beauty, but beneath the lush greenery, secrets had a way of taking root.
Aveline stepped inside alone, the click of her heels lost beneath birdsong and the hum of magic-laced vines. Calista was already waiting near the fountain, draped in deep emerald green, her hair pinned like a crown of thorns.
"You came," Calista said, turning slightly. "I wasn't sure if you would."
Aveline didn't waste time. "You sent for me. I assumed you had something worth hearing."
Calista's smile was polite and empty. "I always do."
They stood facing one another with the kind of tension only women raised in a court of daggers could master—neither sitting, neither flinching.
"I've heard whispers," Calista said. "Whispers that you and Lucien are… entangled. That you have allies now."
Aveline tilted her head. "And if we are?"
"Then the game has changed." Calista stepped closer. "The court thinks you're dangerous now. And you are. But so am I."
A beat passed between them.
"You didn't call me here to trade compliments," Aveline said.
"No." Calista's eyes sharpened. "I called you here because something is coming. Something bigger than gossip or favor. The High Magister is rallying forces in the shadows. You're not just in his way—you're the one thing he can't control."
"And what do you gain by warning me?"
Calista's voice dropped, low and intent. "I want to survive. And if that means standing beside the one woman this court underestimated… then so be it."
Aveline studied her, the wind gently stirring the hem of her gown.
"An alliance," she said finally.
Calista extended a hand. "Temporary, of course."
Aveline took it. "Naturally."
But neither of them let go first.
As Aveline turned and walked away, her fingers still tingled faintly from the pressure of Calista's handshake.
She didn't trust her—not even a little. But she respected the danger she posed. And in a court full of smiling liars, sometimes the only truth was found in aligning with the sharpest blade.
She exited the conservatory, the glass doors shutting behind her with a quiet click.
Lucien was waiting just beyond the hedge maze, leaning against a marble pillar, arms folded. His gaze swept over her like he'd been watching the entire time.
"Well?" he asked.
"She wants an alliance."
He raised a brow. "And you believe her?"
"No. But I don't need to believe her. I only need her pointed in the same direction—for now."
Lucien smiled faintly. "Remind me never to play cards with you."
Aveline smirked. "You wouldn't last a hand."
They walked together in silence for a few steps, then he said, more serious now, "There's news from the border. Reports of strange magic—residual, wild. It doesn't feel like ours."
Aveline stopped walking. "You think it's tied to the High Magister?"
"I don't know. But he's moving pieces we can't see yet."
She exhaled slowly. "Then we need to start turning over the board."
Lucien turned toward her fully. "We'll make the next move soon. But until then—watch everyone. Especially those who smile the brightest."
Aveline nodded.
And somewhere deep in the shadows of the palace, something stirred.
Something that had been waiting.