The palace buzzed with its usual performances banquets, court meetings, charitable smiles. But underneath the powdered faces and polished silver, fear had begun to bloom.
The Lady Ashthorn had spoken to the prince.
She had danced with the Duke.
She had returned from the ashes.
And now, nobles began to wonder…
Whose side was she truly on?
Evelyne didn't answer them. She let the silence do its work.
But inside the quiet, her plans had already taken root.
At dusk, she stepped into the royal greenhouse an elaborate maze of glass and gold, where only the highest-ranking nobles gathered. A place where the Queen often entertained visiting duchesses and foreign royals. A place that reeked of secrets behind every flowering vine.
Today, Evelyne wore pearl gray trimmed in black. Subtle. Sharp.
She had come to find her next piece: Lady Calista Renwyne, the Queen's most trusted companion and a woman whose smile could ruin a lesser house in a whisper.
"Lady Ashthorn," Calista greeted, lips curling like a cat who smelled blood. "I hadn't expected you here."
"I'm full of surprises," Evelyne replied.
They walked together, through walls of roses and blooming foxglove.
"You caused quite the stir," Calista said, plucking a petal from a rose. "Duke Vale is withdrawing from the palace. And Camilla… vanished?"
"She was always very good at hiding behind masks," Evelyne murmured. "But not from me."
"Then what am I to you?" Calista asked, tilting her head.
Evelyne stopped.
"You're useful," she said flatly. "For now."
Calista's eyes narrowed sharp, calculating. But then she smiled.
"I do admire women who know how to play the game."
"Good," Evelyne said, handing her a small parchment. "Because I'm about to change the rules."
The note bore a single sentence:
The Queen is no longer the one pulling strings.
Calista's smile faded.
She looked up at Evelyne truly looked.
And for the first time, the court's whispering woman had nothing to say.
By nightfall, three letters had been delivered from Calista's private seal to nobles once loyal to the crown. And by morning, two of them had withdrawn from the Queen's council.
Evelyne stood by the window of her chamber, watching the ravens soar above the city.
Another move made.
Another piece fallen.
But this wasn't checkmate yet.
No. That would come when the last crown shattered under her heel.
And Prince Lucien begged her for a mercy she no longer possessed.