The dawn after her coronation broke not with music, but with the groan of iron gates dragging open.
The city was quiet.
Too quiet.
Birdsong had vanished.
Merchants stayed behind shutters.
The people of Veredon held their breath, as if even the wind feared speaking her name.
Because something had changed in the palace last night.
And they all felt it.
A shift.
A fracture.
A new weight in the air, like smoke coiling just beneath the skin of the sky.
Selene didn't wear a crown that morning.
She didn't need it.
She walked the halls in black.
Her hands were bare, her hair pinned in braids lined with steel beads.
Each footstep echoed like a sentence.
Behind her trailed Ingrid, Elric, and a silent scribe carrying a scroll almost two meters long.
Not of laws.
Of names.
The list of traitors extracted from Marrow's captured envoy.
Thirty-two names.
Nineteen of them still lived inside the palace walls.
And Selene would not tolerate parasites where power was being reborn.
The throne room remained closed.
The court was dismissed for the day.
The guards posted at each entrance were hers now, not Cassian's.
That had changed quietly, months ago.
But now, it was absolute.
She had no time for ceremony.
Only fire.
Each name on the list was summoned individually.
No explanation.
No public accusations.
Just: "The queen requires your presence."
Some came smiling.
Others sweating.
But none left.
Selene watched from behind the obsidian veil of the upper gallery as the first ten were brought forward.
She didn't ask questions.
She read the names.
Observed their posture.
Looked into their eyes.
Then nodded once.
And Elric carried out the order.
Swift. Silent. Clean.
A needle between the ribs.
A blade drawn across the throat.
Each body removed by silent guards trained not for war, but for cleansing.
Ingrid read the next name:
"Lord Halvar of the Blackwell estates."
Selene leaned forward.
Halvar had dined at her table just a week ago.
He had toasted her coronation.
Had kissed her hand.
Had called her "light of the flame."
He stepped forward now with false calm, his eyes darting like moths near a torch.
"Your Majesty, surely there's a..."
Selene raised a hand.
He froze.
"You sold troop movements to Marrow," she said.
"No!"
"You told them about the border outpost east of Kessin."
"I swear I...."
"You let them slaughter forty-six of our soldiers."
Now his face paled.
Selene rose from her seat.
"You deserve a trial. You won't get one."
Elric stepped forward.
This time, the blade was slower.
More deliberate.
Selene didn't look away.
And she made sure the court's aides watching from behind hidden panels didn't either.
By noon, seventeen were gone.
The rest?
Vanished from their rooms.
Poisoned before they could run.
Hung in cellars.
Bled dry in private baths.
Veredon had seen executions before.
But never with this level of precision.
This level of coldness.
Selene was not wiping out opposition.
She was sterilizing a kingdom.
That night, she stood over the fire pit in the war chamber.
The list of names, now blood-spattered, lay in her hand.
She tossed it into the flames.
Watched it curl.
Burn.
Vanish.
"I've finished cleaning," she said softly.
Ingrid, across the room, hesitated.
"Finished for now."
Selene didn't answer.
Because she knew.
The Circle wasn't done.
Marrow wasn't done.
But this phase?
The part where she waited to be attacked?
That part was over.
Cassian entered the chamber just after midnight.
He looked older than she remembered.
Exhausted.
Beaten.
Not physically.
But by truth.
By silence.
He didn't speak for a long time.
Just stood across from her while the fire burned low.
Then:
"You could've told me."
Selene didn't look up.
"You could've earned it."
"You've become someone I don't recognize."
"Good."
"Is this the woman you wanted to be?"
Selene turned.
Her expression unreadable.
"This is the woman who survives."
He stepped closer.
"You killed nineteen nobles today."
"I killed spies."
"You're not afraid?"
"I'm beyond fear."
Cassian shook his head.
"You're burning bridges we may need later."
Selene approached him, step by slow step, until only inches remained.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"Let them burn."
"We'll build new ones with ash and iron."
He stared at her for a long time.
Then walked away.
And Selene?
She didn't stop him.
Because the king she had once admired no longer stood beside her.
Now she stood alone.
And that was how she would rule.
The next morning, the bells rang again.
This time not for trial.
Not for execution.
But for announcement.
Selene appeared on the palace balcony just before sunrise.
Her voice, amplified by hidden runes, reached across the capital.
"Veredon has been cleansed."
"The Circle thinks itself a phantom."
"But fire reveals all shadows."
"To those who still hide, you have three days to show yourselves."
"After that…"
She let the silence fall like a blade.
Then spoke the final words:
"You won't burn alive."
"You'll simply cease to exist."
No one cheered.
No one booed.
No one moved.
Because they all knew:
Veredon no longer had a queen who asked for loyalty.
It had a queen who commanded obedience.