The Midwinter Tribunal was not just a court—it was a spectacle. A spectacle that determined more than the fate of criminals; it defined the balance of power in the Empire.
Held once a year at the peak of the coldest season, the Tribunal served as both justice and theater. Nobles gathered under the pretense of governance, but everyone knew the truth: it was a battlefield of glances, whispered alliances, and daggers hidden behind silk gloves. There were no guarantees, no rules. Just power. And whoever held it decided everything.
Evelynn stood at the grand entrance of the Hall of Mirrors, cloaked in obsidian velvet and adorned with a silver half-mask that clung to her face like moonlight. Her gown whispered across the marble floor, stitched with black opals and hidden blades. She wasn't here to blend in. She was here to be seen. To remind them of who she was. And who they had wronged.
Kael, ever the shadow at her side, wore deep blue and no mask at all. His smirk was enough. It always was. He didn't need a mask to hide his intentions—his presence was all it took to unsettle those who dared to face him.
"Are you ready for the serpent pit?" he asked, offering her his arm.
Evelynn took it without hesitation. "I brought a bigger snake."
The hall buzzed with energy as they entered. Crystal chandeliers glittered above like frozen stars, and long tables groaned under the weight of wine and delicacies. Nobles in elaborate attire turned to stare, their expressions ranging from shock to poorly veiled curiosity. Some recognized her immediately. Others whispered in disbelief.
"Lady Thorn?" someone whispered.
"But she's supposed to be—"
"Dead."
She smiled beneath the mask. Let them choke on their disbelief. Her return was a herald of change, a shift that rippled through the air like a storm on the horizon.
---
The Empress sat at the highest tier of the tribunal dais, flanked by advisors and elder judges in dark robes. Her crown tonight was forged from froststeel, an eerie glow reflecting off its intricate design. Her eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room like a hawk seeking prey. There was no warmth in her gaze. There never had been.
When Evelynn bowed before her, there was a flicker of recognition—but no warmth. The Empress's lips tightened, her expression unreadable.
"Lady Thorn," the Empress announced, her voice silencing the room, "will advise tonight's deliberations. Any who object may step forward."
The silence that followed was oppressive. No one moved. Evelynn's reputation was enough to keep them in check. No one wanted to test her, not here, not now.
Cowards, Evelynn thought, but she didn't voice it. She didn't need to. The truth was written in their eyes.
The tribunal commenced.
First came Duke Rembrandt, accused of funneling coin into rebel hands. He arrived in golden armor, bold and belligerent, as if his opulence could shield him from the truth.
"Lies!" he shouted, his voice thick with indignation. "This is a smear campaign by jealous vultures!"
Evelynn listened, silent and still. Her eyes narrowed, taking in every word, every shift in posture. She knew how to read lies. She had been trained to.
Then, she stood.
"My lady?" one of the judges asked, unsure.
Evelynn's gaze was cold, unyielding. "The Duke's mistress was paid from the same account used by the rebel faction in Eastmoor. That mistress used the funds to purchase a ruby necklace—one she wore to last week's opera. She wore it in full view of his enemies. He thought himself untouchable."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The evidence was undeniable. The Duke's face turned an ugly shade of red.
"You had her followed?" the Duke hissed, his voice low and menacing.
Evelynn smiled, a cruel twist of lips. "I had everyone followed."
The Empress's laugh was quiet but sharp, a single note of approval. "How very thorough."
Duke Rembrandt's protests turned to silence. His bravado crumbled in the face of the evidence. He was escorted out in chains, his pride shattered.
One by one, the Tribunal moved on—petty crimes, political disputes, whispers of treason. Evelynn handled each case with precision, her mind a blade honed by years of exile and betrayal. No one dared to challenge her. They couldn't. She was a master of the game. And they were all just pieces.
But it was the final case that shifted the tide.
A girl no older than sixteen was dragged before the court, her hands raw, her eyes hollow with exhaustion. She had been accused of stealing a noble's seal to forge a letter of protection for her family. The guards who brought her forward whispered of her desperate plea, but Evelynn didn't need to hear it. She saw the truth written in the girl's face.
"Her family is being hunted," one of the guards explained. "She acted out of desperation."
Evelynn studied the girl for a long moment. She saw herself in the girl's eyes—the same hunger, the same raw desperation that had driven her to survive, to claw her way back to power.
The Empress turned to Evelynn, as though expecting her to pass judgment. "Your thoughts, Lady Thorn?"
Evelynn didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stared at the girl, the weight of her own past pressing against her chest.
"She deserves punishment," Evelynn said slowly. "But not the gallows. Give her work. Education. Use her cleverness. Use her to expose the corruption that festers beneath this Empire. She has a future. Let her see it."
The Empress tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "And if she betrays that trust?"
"Then she dies," Evelynn said flatly. "But not today."
The Empress regarded her for a long moment. Then, without another word, she nodded once. "So judged."
---
The Tribunal ended in frost and fire. Nobles dispersed with new gossip dripping from their tongues. The air was thick with whispered alliances and broken secrets. Evelynn lingered at the edge of the hall, watching them scatter. The game had only just begun, and the stakes were higher than ever.
Kael joined her, sipping from a silver flask as if he hadn't just watched a political bloodbath unfold. "Well. You made an impression," he said, his voice low.
"Good. That was the point," Evelynn replied, her eyes still scanning the room, calculating her next move.
He glanced sideways, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "They'll come for you harder now."
"Let them," Evelynn said, her voice steady, unwavering. "I came back to be hunted. So I could hunt them in return."
From her throne, the Empress watched Evelynn like one watches a chessboard. Calculating. Patient. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
But Evelynn was no mere pawn. She was a queen in disguise.
The game had begun.
And the villainess had made her first move.