Inside the council chamber, the messenger’s trembling voice still echoed as silence engulfed the room. All eyes turned toward Theodoric, whose composed mask barely concealed the storm brewing beneath. His hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening.

  Theodoric straightened, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Summon the ward-masters and any remaining architects who worked on the defenses. I want a full inspection team dispatched immediately to assess the damage.”

  A murmur swept through the chamber.

  “And if the wards collapse entirely?” a noble demanded, his tone sharp with fear.

  “They won’t,” Theodoric snapped, his authority brooking no argument. “They can’t.”

  Cassie noticed a quick flicker of doubt in his eyes—so fleeting that only someone watching closely would catch it. Although it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

  But the room remained on edge. Another noble rose to his feet, his face red with barely restrained fury. “This failure is no accident! You’d have us believe that this isn’t the result of deliberate sabotage? That this isn’t part of your scheme to secure power, Theodoric?”

  Before the Crown Prince could respond, Dietrich’s voice rang out, mocking yet measured. “Come now, brother, let’s not feign surprise. You’ve always been eager to play the savior. How convenient that this crisis should unfold so dramatically under your watch.”

  Theodoric’s gaze turned icy, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he looked to the messenger. “Have the inspections begin at once.” He paused, letting his eyes sweep over the room, daring anyone to challenge him. “And to reassure the court of our strength and unity in the face of this threat, I am hosting a banquet tonight in the grand hall. We cannot afford to let fear control us. You are all expected to attend.”

  The pronouncement left no room for argument.

  Cassie watched Theodoric closely. His words were deliberate, his tone unshakable. But she knew him well enough to see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the faint rigidity in his jaw.

  Dietrich’s scoff broke the heavy silence. “A feast to mask the taste of failure. How appropriate.”

  Theodoric didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to leave, his cloak sweeping behind him. Cassie followed quickly, her mind already racing.

  The hours leading up to the banquet passed in a blur of preparation. Cassie moved through the palace, her gaze sharp and alert. Servants bustled with trays of silverware and casks of wine, their faces pale and strained. Overhead, chandeliers blazed with light, their gilded surfaces refracting into dazzling constellations. Yet beneath the splendor, shadows lengthened, and whispers grew more insidious.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Cassie stopped briefly in the servants’ quarters to adjust her maid uniform. She tightened her sleeves and tucked a stray lock of hair beneath her cap. Her reflection in the warped mirror stared back at her, somber and calculating.

  If the conspirators planned to strike, tonight would be their moment.

  She emerged into the grand hall as the first wave of nobles arrived, their finery shimmering under the flickering torchlight. The space had been transformed into a dazzling display of luxury. Crystal goblets and gleaming platters crowded the long banquet tables, reflecting the flickering candlelight and adding to the room's grandeur.

  Yet despite the grandeur, the atmosphere remained brittle, like a taut string ready to snap.

  Cassie kept to the edges of the room, her eyes scanning every movement, every exchange. She noted the subtle hand gestures between certain nobles, the flicker of unease in their eyes, and the carefully concealed smiles of others. Her instincts screamed that the conspirators were here, hidden among the glittering crowd.

  The arrival of Crown Prince Theodoric drew a wave of murmured acknowledgment. He entered with deliberate grace, his expression as unyielding as ever. A step behind him, Cassie noticed, was Queen Lyssandra, her presence regal and commanding. The elusive and reclusive King, as usual, was absent.

  She noted another absence, too: Esther, Theodoric’s betrothed, was nowhere to be seen.

  An hour into the banquet, Cassie’s vigilance was rewarded. Amid the flow of wine and music, she caught a whispered exchange near the queen’s table. Two nobles leaned in close, their voices low and urgent. She inched closer, her movements casual yet purposeful.

  “...tonight, before the hour turns,” one said, passing a small vial to the other.

  Cassie’s pulse quickened. She followed the second noble discreetly as he crossed the hall, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. He stopped near a servant carrying a tray of goblets and slipped the vial into the folds of his sleeve.

  The servant moved toward the queen’s table, and Cassie’s heart slammed against her ribs.

  She intercepted the servant just as they reached the queen. Her hand shot out, knocking the goblet to the floor. The liquid spilled across the marble tiles, hissing as it ate into the surface.

  Gasps rippled through the hall.

  Queen Lyssandra’s sharp eyes fixed on Cassie, then on the sizzling stain. A flicker of recognition crossed her features.

  “Interesting,” the queen said coolly. “Nightshade and venomroot. A potent combination, but not for me.” She turned to the stunned servant, her tone deadly. “You were just a distraction, weren’t you?”

  The servant trembled, their lips moving soundlessly.

  Before anyone could react further, the double doors of the hall slammed open. Masked figures poured into the room, their weapons gleaming in the candlelight.

  “Protect the queen!” Theodoric’s voice cut through the chaos as he drew his sword.

  Cassie spun, her blade already in her hand. One of the attackers lunged toward her, and she parried with precision, the clang of steel ringing in her ears. Around her, the hall erupted into chaos—nobles screamed, tables overturned, and guards rushed to fend off the intruders.

  Theodoric and Dietrich found themselves back-to-back, their mutual animosity eclipsed by the immediate threat.

  “You’re slow,” Dietrich muttered as he blocked a blow aimed at his shoulder.

  “Focus,” Theodoric growled, driving his sword through another assailant.

  Cassie dodged a heavy strike, her movements fluid and calculated. As she disarmed her opponent, her eyes locked onto a noble standing near the edge of the fray. Their face was half-hidden by shadows, but she recognized them instantly—a member of the council, someone who had vocally opposed Theodoric.

  The noble met her gaze and smirked.

  “Long live the new order!” they shouted before vanishing into the chaos.

  Cassie didn’t hesitate. She pushed through the melee, her movements swift and purposeful, cutting through the chaos. The conspirators wouldn’t escape—not tonight.