> Day one: the Queen plays with blood. The court plays with knives. I play to win.
---
The Queen dismissed the court within an hour of my acceptance.
I expected ceremony. Celebration. Wine. Perhaps even a feast to mark the return of her infamous outcast. But there was nothing, only silence, like a blade waiting in the dark.
I was led through the fortress to a tower chamber meant for a royal general.
Lavish. Decorated in black and crimson. Every wall watched me.
I didn't sleep.
Instead, I mapped out the terrain in my head.
Four major noble houses still held the eastern front. The capital was weak. The economy fractured. Magical ley lines unstable from the last war. Yet despite all this, Queen Elyra ruled.
And no one could explain why.
---
At dawn, a knock at my door.
Not a servant. No tray. No guards.
A letter. Hand-delivered. Sealed with molten red wax.
> Not from the Queen.
I cracked it open.
> General Velcrath,
We welcome your return. Perhaps this time you will serve Virellia rather than destroy it.
Meet me in the Mirror Garden at dusk. Come alone.
—Lord Kaelthorn
An invitation. Polite. Insulting. Veiled threat.
> First move belongs to the court. Of course it does.
I spent the morning reading the castle's layout. Its bones were old. Older than the Queen. Older than the curse. Beneath the grand halls ran tunnels carved in war, passageways meant for assassins and cowards.
I marked the exits.
I counted the ravens in the towers.
I waited.
---
Dusk fell like a velvet guillotine.
The Mirror Garden sat atop the western spire. Ivy climbed obsidian walls, and black lilies bloomed where no light touched. At the center stood the mirrors, dozens of them, old and cracked, positioned to reflect moonlight in eerie fractals.
> This is where Kaelthorn plots? He always did have flair.
Lord Kaelthorn was already there. His robes shimmered like oil on water, and his smile was too practiced.
"You've aged," he said. "But not enough to forget what you owe me."
"I owe no one," I replied.
"Not even for sparing your name during your exile?"
I stepped forward. "I recall your mercy being more… self-interested."
He chuckled. "Ah. Still sharp, Lirien. That's good. That's why I need you."
I let him speak.
He offered gold. Power. A private command.
All in exchange for subtle disobedience. Delay a campaign. Misinterpret a message. Nudge the Queen toward failure, nothing overt, just enough to weaken her.
> Classic noble sabotage. Disguised as pragmatism.
"Think of it," he said, stepping closer. "She wears the Crown. The curse will break her. All we need is to guide her fall."
I didn't move. Didn't answer.
Instead, I turned my gaze to the nearest mirror.
There, in the fractured glass, I saw something else.
Her.
Queen Elyra.
Dressed in midnight, standing silently at the garden's edge. Watching.
She didn't interrupt. She didn't speak.
She just watched.
> A test. She let this happen. She wanted to see if I'd sell her out on day one.
Kaelthorn noticed my eyes shift and turned.
But by then, she was gone.
---
> Move made. Response required.
I looked Kaelthorn in the eyes and smiled.
"I'll consider your offer," I said. "But you should consider something too."
"What's that?"
"Next time you meet me in a garden of mirrors," I said, stepping past him, "ask yourself who's really being reflected."
---
I returned to my chambers without guards.
There, waiting on the table, sat a single black rose.
Not natural.
Magically preserved.
Tied to it: a note in the Queen's own hand.
> You passed.
> You're already inside the game, Lirien. The next move is yours.
---
> Clever. She doesn't trust me. But she knows I didn't betray her.
And more importantly… she knows I saw her. She wanted to be seen.
I held the rose for a long moment before setting it in a glass of water.
I wasn't sure if it was a gift or a warning.
But I knew this:
The Queen doesn't bluff.
And I don't fold.
---
> Let them plot. Let them tempt me.
I didn't come here to serve.
I came to conquer.