RONEVAL – GREAT HALL, IMMEDIATELY AFTER BREAKFAST
Kael's faint laugh still echoed in the silence like a dropped coin.
Lysandra, dramatically slumped in her chair, peeked through her fingers.
LYSANDRA (whispering to herself):
"Victory."
She sat up, victorious but wobbly. A nearby soldier quickly passed her water as if she'd actually been poisoned.
KAEL (dryly):
"Try not to martyr yourself before noon. It complicates paperwork."
LYSANDRA:
"No promises. But I do accept tributes in the form of pastries."
Kael rose from the table, his cloak brushing the ground like storm clouds. The generals followed suit, their expressions unsure—still reeling from the sight of their cold duke smiling.
LYSANDRA (teasing as she stood):
"Am I dismissed, or shall I join the next battle council? I've thoughts on bread-based tactics."
KAEL (without turning):
"You'll find more danger in the library today, Princess. Go cause trouble there."
LYSANDRA (muttering with a grin):
"Was that… permission?"
RONEVAL – DUKE'S LIBRARY, LATE MORNING
The Duke's library was less of a room and more of a fortress within a fortress—vaulted ceilings, cold air, and an air of intimidation even the books seemed to share. It was built for silence, for strategy, for minds as sharp as blades.
Which was why Lysandra was speaking to the books.
LYSANDRA (searching the shelves):
"War of the West… Boring. Siege Tactics… Ugh. Advanced Decapitation—truly, Kael, do you sleep at night?"
She pulled a random tome and sneezed violently.
The sound echoed like a cannon in the tomb-like quiet.
She froze. Waited. No one came.
Then she spotted it—half-tucked behind a scroll case labeled Naval Logistics was a plain folder. No title. No markings.
LYSANDRA:
"Oh no. This is absolutely a trap. Which means…"
She pulled it free.
Inside: letters. Dozens, most sealed, but one open.
She scanned it—and frowned. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but formal. Fluid. The words, however, struck like knives.
"Ensure the girl remains a distraction only. The Duke grows too steady, too silent. If he binds himself to the Elliran, we risk losing control. Engage the Black Chamber. Trigger Stage Two."
LYSANDRA (quietly):
"…Elliran. That's me."
Her smile faded.
Before she could tuck the paper away, she heard footsteps.
Panic.
She shoved the letter into her sleeve, stepped back, grabbed the first book she could find (Naval Disasters of the Second Era) and spun toward a chair, planting herself with what she hoped was the serenity of a natural reader.
The doors opened.
Kael entered.
No cloak this time—just black sleeves rolled back, ink on his hands, sword at his side.
KAEL (casually):
"I said cause trouble, not uncover state secrets."
LYSANDRA (blinking innocently):
"I'm just learning about boats."
KAEL:
"Are they more treacherous than jam?"
LYSANDRA (loudly flipping a page):
"Much."
Kael crossed to the table, one hand brushing the back of her chair—not touching, but close. She tensed only slightly. He noticed.
KAEL (calm, but clipped):
"This room is watched."
LYSANDRA:
"Then I'll be sure to smile more."
KAEL:
"Some documents are meant to remain buried."
LYSANDRA (glancing up at him):
"And some roots need sunlight. Or they rot."
That pause again—like the world holding its breath.
Kael leaned close, his voice low enough to be wind:
KAEL:
"Don't trust shadows, Lysandra. Not even the ones that follow you."
And he was gone.
RONEVAL – SPY CHAMBERS, THAT NIGHT
Beneath the fortress, Kael stood before a table of intercepted letters.
The latest one had just arrived. Still warm from the courier's cloak.
Kael unrolled it slowly.
"The girl has begun searching. He may already suspect. Advance the plan. The crown prince is eager to act. Make it appear as treason."
Kael didn't blink.
Didn't move.
He only said, voice like steel drawn in moonlight:
KAEL:
"They're using her as bait."
SPYMASTER:
"And you as the trap."
KAEL:
"Then we play wolves, not lambs."
He folded the letter and turned to the wall, where a map of the empire spread like a bloodstained quilt.
KAEL (coldly):
"Send word to every watchtower and sleeper in the capital. The Black Chamber moves."
SPYMASTER:
"And the girl?"
KAEL:
"Protected. Always."
RONEVAL – LYSANDRA'S CHAMBER, LATER
She sat on the floor with the letter she'd stolen, now open again on her lap.
The words still burned.
"If he binds himself to the Elliran…"
LYSANDRA (softly):
"They think I'm a weakness."
She touched the ink gently, tracing the cruel elegance of the handwriting.
LYSANDRA (firm):
"Then I'll be the most dangerous weakness they've ever known."
Preview – Chapter 5: Red Silk and Silver Blades
Lysandra is invited to a noble luncheon hosted by a Duchess loyal to the crown. What begins with veiled smiles ends with sharper words—and Kael watching from the shadows as court knives glitter beneath silk gloves. Everyone plays a role, but only one knows it's a trap.