The palace wore silence like mourning silk.
No more open rebellion.
No loud whispers.
No knives thrown in public halls.
But Selene knew better.
Silence in Veredon did not mean peace.
It meant plotting.
It meant the survivors were crawling deeper into the dark, waiting to strike from somewhere she could not yet see.
And this time, she didn't trust her own walls.
Not even her own blood.
The Queen's Gambit had fractured the court into two camps:
Those who feared her.
And those who pretended not to.
Neither were loyal.
Both were dangerous.
Selene sat in her private solar at dusk, candles flickering around her, documents scattered across the marble table.
Her hands moved steadily, issuing orders, approving rotations, signing off on punishments that would never reach the light of day.
But her mind was elsewhere.
It kept circling the same question.
Who is still playing me?
Because something wasn't right.
She had choked the merchant lords.
Replaced half the priests.
Unleashed controlled chaos in every province that once doubted her.
And yet… the whispers hadn't stopped.
They'd gotten quieter.
Smarter.
Closer.
That evening, Cassian returned from the southern inspection.
He looked exhausted.
Dust-streaked.
Armor scuffed.
Eyes unreadable.
He kissed her forehead when no one watched.
But his silence was heavy.
Selene didn't ask what he had seen.
Because she was afraid he would ask what she had done in his absence.
Instead, she handed him a folded note.
He opened it.
Read.
Said nothing.
Inside were three names.
Three nobles who had once pledged loyalty and were now funneling coin to foreign embassies.
Cassian burned the note in the fireplace without a word.
Then left again before dawn.
The betrayal didn't come from where she expected.
It didn't come from a duke.
Or a baron.
Or a merchant.
It came from someone she had trusted since the beginning.
Her handmaiden.
Evelyn.
The quiet one.
The kind one.
The one who had bathed her bruises the night after her forced wedding.
The one who had sat at her feet, reading poetry in the days when Selene still believed love could survive a crown.
Selene caught her by accident.
A shift in the pattern.
A letter folded wrong.
A coin pouch too heavy for someone with no title.
Selene waited.
Watched.
Followed.
And when Evelyn slipped into the garden wall passage after midnight. Selene was already waiting on the other side.
"You've been loyal for so long," Selene said quietly, stepping from the shadows.
Evelyn froze.
Then turned, wide-eyed.
"My queen."
Selene raised a hand.
No anger.
No accusation.
Just sorrow.
"Why?"
Evelyn trembled.
"They said you'd kill him."
Selene's eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
"King Cassian."
"They said… you were building something to replace him. That you'd use the war to crown yourself. That if I helped them, I could save him."
Her voice broke.
Selene exhaled slowly.
"You thought I'd betray him."
"I thought… you already had."
Selene closed the distance between them.
She reached out, gently brushing Evelyn's hair back like a sister would.
"You were wrong," she said.
And in a motion faster than thought. Selene pulled the dagger from her sleeve and pressed it to Evelyn's neck.
The handmaiden gasped.
Tears spilled.
Selene didn't blink.
"You will tell me everything. Every name. Every route. Every letter."
Evelyn sobbed.
"And then?"
Selene's voice was flat.
"Then I decide if keeping you alive is a kindness… or a mistake."
It took two hours.
Every word written in Selene's hand.
Every name carved into her ledger of vengeance.
When it was done, Evelyn knelt on the solar floor, eyes swollen, trembling.
Selene stood behind her, silent.
Then turned.
And walked away.
She didn't kill her.
Not yet.
Because Evelyn's value was no longer in her loyalty but in her guilt.
By sunrise, three new arrests were made.
Two carriages intercepted.
One spy caught in the kitchen.
All traced back to the same source:
A foreign noble house.
A planned assassination.
A blade meant for Cassian's heart.
Selene intercepted it first.
That morning, she entered the war chamber before he did.
She placed a small velvet box on the map table.
When Cassian arrived, he opened it.
Inside was a blade.
Thin.
Silver.
Poisoned.
He looked up slowly.
Selene met his gaze.
"It was meant for you."
He nodded once.
"Where?"
"Your bedchamber."
Silence.
Then, Cassian walked to her.
"Are you still protecting me?"
Selene's voice was soft.
"I'm protecting us."
"Even though you could take the crown without me?"
Selene smiled faintly.
"I don't want a kingdom without you in it."
Cassian didn't speak.
He just stepped forward and kissed her hand.
Like she was already his equal.
His ally.
His answer.
But Selene knew the truth.
The closer they became…
The more dangerous everything else became, too.
Because love in a court like Veredon wasn't protection.
It was leverage.
And someone, somewhere, had just learned how to pull her strings.