The throne room was silent.
Too silent.
Liana stood alone at its center, the scent of blood still clinging to her skin. The marble floor beneath her reflected fractured light through the stained glass above, casting red and gold shadows around her.
Her fingers curled around the scroll—proof of royal betrayal—still warm from the tension in her grip.
This place once held memories. Her father's laughter. Her mother's songs. Now it reeked of ghosts and lies.
She had imagined this moment for years—standing where her family once ruled. But she felt no triumph.
Only the crushing weight of what came next.
---
"I don't understand," Dominic said quietly, pacing behind her. "If you have the scroll… why not bring it to the Council now? Expose them."
"Because evidence doesn't topple kingdoms," Liana whispered. "Power does."
He stilled.
She turned to face him. "We're not dealing with logic, Dominic. We're dealing with monsters who wear crowns. Who rewrite truth every time it threatens them. If I bring this to the Council, it will vanish. Or worse—they'll brand it a forgery and paint me the traitor."
"You don't trust anyone?"
"I can't afford to."
His jaw tightened, but he nodded. He understood too well.
"But there's another way," she added, walking toward the steps. Her boots echoed. "We use the scroll—but only after we've built enough influence to make them listen. We can't just show them the fire. We need to become it."
Dominic's brow furrowed. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
She turned to him with a small, grim smile.
"By tearing down the Queen's alliances… one mask at a time."
---
That Night
The moon hid behind a curtain of clouds as Liana slipped through the shadows.
Tonight was not for courtly games or elegant gowns.
Tonight was for poison and whispers.
Leonidas waited for her at the edge of the slums—where the scent of soot and rebellion clung to the air.
"You're late," he said, not looking up from the map spread across the crates.
"Had to sneak past two council spies and a maid who talks too much," she replied, pulling down her hood.
"Sounds like a normal day for royalty."
"Not for long," she muttered, peering at the map.
He tapped a marked location. "This is where House Merrow stores their private ledgers. Off-books finances. Smuggling records. If we can leak those—"
"—we can unravel their influence over the grain trade and destabilize their alliance with the Queen," Liana finished.
Their hands brushed as they both pointed.
She pulled away first.
Leonidas smirked. "You're learning fast."
"I don't have the luxury of learning slow."
They exchanged a look—an understanding forged from vengeance, not affection. But beneath it, something else simmered. Trust. Fragile, but growing.
---
They moved swiftly, cloaked in darkness.
By midnight, they were inside the Merrow estate's archive room.
Stacks of ledgers surrounded them—binding generations of corruption.
Liana worked in silence, her gloved fingers dancing over the spines until she found it: a black leather book marked only with a sigil. She opened it—and almost recoiled.
Trafficking routes. Bribery lists. Names of nobles bought and sold like currency.
"This could destroy them," she breathed.
Leonidas stepped closer. "Then let's make sure it does."
She hesitated. "If we do this, it's war."
He looked at her. "It already is."
They didn't speak again as they slipped into the shadows with the ledgers.
But as they disappeared into the night, Liana knew one truth for certain:
She had crossed the line.
There was no going back.
---
Days Later
The fire spread faster than they'd expected.
The ledgers were leaked to a radical printing press in the lower quarter. By dawn, copies circulated across every major district in the capital.
Merrow's estate was stormed by angry citizens.
Three council members resigned.
And Queen Ilyana's silence roared louder than any denial.
Liana watched it unfold from her balcony, dressed in mourning black, a twisted tribute to what the kingdom was becoming.
Dominic entered without knocking. "You've started a revolution."
"I started justice."
"They won't let this go unanswered."
"I don't expect them to."
She turned, handing him another letter. "This needs to reach Lord Cael of the Southern Province. We need his support next. If we get the southern armies on our side, we break the Queen's control of the roads and ports."
Dominic glanced at the seal—her father's, resurrected from ashes.
"You're not just taking back the throne," he said quietly. "You're burning the entire system down."
Liana met his eyes. "The system burned my family alive. I'm just returning the favor."
---
That Evening
The court held a mandatory assembly—Queen Ilyana's first public appearance since the scandal broke.
Liana arrived fashionably late.
The grand hall was suffocating with tension. Nobles whispered behind gloved hands. Councilors shifted uneasily. And there on her throne sat Ilyana, calm as a still blade.
The Queen stood.
"A crime has been committed," she said, voice cold. "Our kingdom has been struck from within. Documents stolen. Lies spread. Chaos unleashed."
Her eyes found Liana instantly.
"And yet," she continued, "I wonder… who benefits from such destruction?"
Liana didn't flinch. "Perhaps those who have nothing left to lose."
The Queen smiled. "How poetic."
Then she snapped her fingers.
Two guards emerged, dragging a prisoner between them.
Liana's blood froze.
It was her old tutor. Master Veren.
He had taught her history as a child. Had hidden her during the coup. He had helped her recover the scrolls.
And now, his face was beaten. His mouth gagged.
"This man was found with forged documents," the Queen said sweetly. "And messages tied to rebels. He confesses to plotting against the crown."
Liana stepped forward. "That's a lie."
"Is it?" Ilyana's smile never wavered. "Then prove it."
The guards raised their blades.
"NO!" Liana shouted.
But it was too late.
The blade fell.
Blood splattered the marble.
The Queen sat again.
Unbothered.
Unmoved.
Liana stared at the lifeless body of a man who once read her bedtime stories. Rage built in her chest. Hot. Suffocating.
This wasn't power.
This was butchery.
And she would end it.
Even if it meant becoming a monster herself.
---
That Night
Rain poured like a warning.
Liana stood at her window, the storm outside mirroring the one inside her.
A soft knock.
Leonidas entered, soaked to the bone.
"I heard."
"I saw."
He stepped closer.
"Ilyana killed him to provoke you. To make you lose control."
"She succeeded."
"You can't let her."
She turned sharply. "You think I care about playing nice anymore?"
"No," he said. "But I think you still care about winning."
The room crackled with something unsaid.
Then he crossed to her.
Close.
Too close.
"Don't let grief blind you," he whispered.
"And don't mistake my grief for weakness."
Their breaths mingled.
Outside, thunder cracked.
Inside, something broke open.
He reached out, brushing her cheek.
She didn't pull away.
Not this time.
But just as their lips almost touched—
A knock shattered the moment.
Dominic's voice.
"They've summoned you to the Hall of Oaths. A formal challenge has been issued."
She stiffened.
Leonidas stepped back, jaw tightening.
"From who?" she asked.
Dominic hesitated. "From the Queen
As Liana turned to face the mirror, she didn't see a girl anymore.
She saw a blade.
Forged by betrayal.
Sharpened by vengeance.
Ready for war.