📍 Chapter 62 – The Fall of a Crown
The sun had barely risen when the Queen was summoned.
She was in her private chambers, sipping tea by the balcony, draped in layers of pale gold silk. Her eyes swept lazily over the garden below, unaware — or pretending to be — of the soldiers assembling beyond her gates.
Captain Varyn approached with a dozen guards behind him, each one handpicked by Zaire himself.
The Queen glanced up as the door opened.
"Captain," she said calmly, placing her teacup on its saucer. "You're early. Has the Prince requested my presence?"
Varyn didn't return the pleasantry. He stepped forward and held out the scroll.
"By order of the High Council and Prince Zaire himself, you are to be detained and placed under royal investigation for crimes of treason, attempted assassination, unlawful conspiracy, and use of foreign agents within the kingdom."
The Queen's hand paused mid-reach.
"Treason?" she repeated. "You've gone mad."
Two guards stepped forward.
"Please rise, Your Grace," Varyn said. "You are no longer permitted to command from this chamber."
The Queen stood slowly, her spine stiff with fury.
"Zaire would never—"
"He has," Varyn said. "This order bears the seal of five lords. Your power ends today."
For the first time, something flickered in the Queen's eyes — not fear. But calculation.
She looked past Varyn, toward the hallway beyond.
"Where is she?" the Queen asked. "Send her in."
Varyn frowned. "Who?"
"Zara," the Queen said. "She's the one who started this. Let her finish it."
---
Zara was already waiting in the council chamber.
She stood beside Zaire, one hand resting over her belly, the other pressed against the cold edge of the table. The chamber was lit with tall windows and the sharp smell of ink and law. Five nobles stood in silence. None dared speak yet.
When the doors opened, and the Queen was escorted in, the air turned heavy.
She walked without protest, head held high.
Zara met her gaze.
Neither of them looked away.
"Sit," Zaire said.
The Queen did not. "I will not bow to a woman who poisoned my son's mind."
Zara's voice was calm. "You poisoned his wine first."
The Queen smiled faintly. "So dramatic. I only ever did what was necessary to protect the kingdom."
"By killing your own blood?" Lord Thalos snapped.
The Queen turned to him. "Zaire was always weak. I did what needed to be done while he grew into his throne."
Zaire stepped forward, jaw clenched. "I am not weak. And this—" he held up the leather ledger— "is proof you never believed in me at all."
He opened it, flipping to the marked page.
Zara's name. The poison plots. The shadow council. All of it.
The nobles leaned forward, reading in horrified silence.
When Lord Rulin limped forward on a cane — still pale but standing — the chamber shifted.
He placed a trembling hand on the table.
"I nearly died carrying this woman's secrets. I will not let her twist the crown one more day."
The Queen's mask cracked. Just slightly.
"You little men," she said softly. "All of you. You think you've won? You think this child bride and her bastard royal seed will save you from what's coming?"
Zara stepped forward.
Every eye turned.
"I'm not a child," she said. "And that 'bastard seed' will be born into a kingdom free from the claws of women like you."
The Queen's gaze snapped to her stomach.
"You're pregnant," she said quietly.
Zara didn't flinch. "Yes. And I will raise this child with the strength you tried to erase from this court."
Zaire stood beside her now. "You'll be confined. No titles. No power. From this moment forward, you are a prisoner of the Crown."
The Queen didn't scream. She didn't fight.
She simply said, "Then I hope your child learns to sleep through war. Because you've just invited one."
---
That evening, the palace felt like it was breathing again for the first time in weeks.
The guards rotated cleanly. The kitchens returned to their rhythm. The servants began to speak louder, freer. Rumors ran like water through the halls — the Queen had been arrested, the Prince had declared Zara his formal consort, the unborn child was to be named heir upon birth.
Zara walked through the courtyard in a dark cloak, alone but watched from every corner.
Not as prey.
As power.
She met Leva beneath the garden arch, where roses bloomed through iron thorns.
"You did it," Leva said softly.
Zara nodded. "No. *We* did it."
Leva tilted her head. "You could've been a quiet wife. Hidden in gowns and candles. Why didn't you choose peace?"
Zara turned her face toward the stars.
"Because I've never known peace," she said. "Only what I can build with my own hands."
Leva smiled faintly. "And what now?"
Zara touched her stomach.
"I raise my child. I rebuild this palace. And I make sure the next queen never has to learn how to wield a dagger just to survive."
---
Later that night, Zaire came to her chambers with no crown, no guards — just himself.
He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, their fingers laced together.
"She's gone," he said. "It's over."
Zara looked at him. "It'll never be over. But we bought time."
He rested his hand over hers, then moved it to her stomach.
"When do we tell the kingdom?"
She smiled tiredly. "Soon."
"We'll protect this child," he whispered. "No matter what."
"We will," Zara agreed. "But promise me something."
"Anything."
"If I fall," she said softly, "you raise our child strong. Don't let the palace break them."
Zaire swallowed. "You're not going to fall."
"But promise me anyway."
He leaned forward, kissing her forehead.
"I swear it. On every piece of the crown I wear."
---
Outside, the palace slept.
But deep in the dungeons, the Queen sat in silence — her hands bound, her eyes closed.
Waiting.
Watching.
Because a crown may fall…
…but a serpent never dies quietly.