Six weeks into my intensive training with Master Voss, Queen Victoria made her first direct move against me.
It began innocuously enough—an invitation to a private dinner in the Queen's personal chambers, delivered by a servant who waited patiently for my response. The parchment was expensive, the handwriting elegant, and the tone perfectly polite.
"Her Majesty would be delighted to become better acquainted with Lord Winters, given his growing reputation at court."
I studied the invitation while the servant waited. Every instinct screamed that this was a trap, but refusing a direct invitation from the Queen would be tantamount to declaring open hostility.
"Please inform Her Majesty that I'm honored by her invitation and will attend at the appointed time," I told the servant.
After he left, I immediately sought out Master Voss, finding her in the old tower where we'd been conducting our most dangerous training sessions.
"She knows," I said without preamble, handing her the invitation.
Master Voss read it twice before responding. "Perhaps. Or perhaps she's simply curious about a young noble who's been making waves at court." But her expression suggested she believed the first option far more likely than the second.
"Should I go?"
"You don't have a choice. Refusing would confirm her suspicions and give her justification for more direct action." She set the invitation down and began pacing, a habit she'd developed when working through complex problems. "But we can use this to our advantage."
"How?"
"Queen Victoria is a creature of control. She'll want this dinner on her terms, in her space, surrounded by her advantages." Master Voss stopped pacing and faced me directly. "Which means she'll underestimate your abilities and overestimate her own position."
We spent the rest of the day preparing. Master Voss taught me techniques for detecting poison, resisting mental manipulation, and projecting false magical signatures to hide my true capabilities. By evening, I was as ready as six weeks of intensive training could make me.
Queen Victoria's private chambers occupied an entire wing of the palace, decorated with a luxury that bordered on the obscene. Tapestries worth more than most noble estates covered the walls, while furniture crafted by master artisans filled rooms larger than houses.
The Queen herself was waiting in her private dining room, seated at a table set for two. She was younger than I'd expected—perhaps forty, with the kind of beauty that spoke of both natural gifts and magical enhancement. Her dark hair was perfectly arranged, her dress was a masterpiece of silk and jewels, and her smile was warm enough to melt steel.
She was also one of the most dangerous people I'd ever encountered.
"Lord Winters," she said, rising gracefully to greet me. "Thank you so much for accepting my invitation. I've been so curious to meet the young man who's been causing such a stir at court."
"Your Majesty honors me with her attention," I replied, offering what I hoped was an appropriately respectful bow.
"Please, sit. I've had the kitchen prepare some of their finest dishes." She gestured to the chair across from her. "I do hope you're not one of those young men who's afraid to eat in the presence of royalty."
I took the offered seat, immediately noting that my chair positioned me with my back to the room's main entrance—a classic power play designed to make guests feel vulnerable. The Queen resumed her own seat with fluid grace, never taking her eyes off my face.
"Wine?" she asked, lifting an elegant decanter.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
I watched carefully as she poured, noting that both glasses came from the same bottle and that she drank from hers first. Either the wine was safe, or she had developed immunity to whatever poison it might contain.
The first course arrived—a delicate soup that smelled of herbs and something I couldn't quite identify. Queen Victoria began eating with apparent pleasure, maintaining casual conversation about court life, the weather, and my adjustment to palace living.
"I understand you've been taking private lessons with Master Voss," she said between spoonfuls.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I have much to learn about proper magical education."
"Indeed. Elena is quite skilled, though she has always been perhaps too... ambitious in her teaching methods." The Queen's smile never wavered, but something cold flickered in her dark eyes. "I do hope she hasn't been filling your head with dangerous ideas."
"Only the fundamentals, Your Majesty. Control, discipline, responsibility."
"How refreshing. So many young people today seem to believe that raw power is more important than wisdom." She set down her spoon and leaned back slightly. "Tell me, Alex—may I call you Alex?—what do you hope to accomplish during your time at court?"
The question felt loaded with hidden meaning. I chose my words carefully.
"I hope to honor my father's memory by serving the crown faithfully, Your Majesty. Perhaps in time, I might prove worthy of greater responsibilities."
"Greater responsibilities." She repeated the phrase thoughtfully. "How interesting. And what form might these responsibilities take?"
Before I could respond, I felt a subtle pressure against my mind—not quite an attack, but definitely a probe. Queen Victoria was testing my mental defenses, searching for thoughts and memories I might prefer to keep hidden.
I allowed her to encounter the surface barriers Master Voss had taught me to construct while keeping my deeper secrets locked away. To her magical senses, I would appear to be exactly what I claimed—a minor noble's bastard with modest magical abilities and conventional ambitions.
"Perhaps administrative duties," I said aloud while silently reinforcing my mental shields. "Or military service, if I prove capable enough."
"Military service." The Queen's probing intensified slightly. "That would require considerable skill with combat magic. Have you had much training in that area?"
"Very little, I'm afraid. Master Voss has focused primarily on theoretical knowledge."
The lie came easily, backed by false memories I'd learned to project. Queen Victoria would sense confidence in basic magical theory, uncertainty about practical applications, and the kind of eager ambition she'd expect from someone in my supposed position.
"Pity. Combat magic is so important for young nobles these days, given the... unsettled nature of the eastern provinces." She withdrew her mental probe and resumed eating. "Perhaps I could arrange for additional instruction. Duke Kane has some excellent tutors among his personal staff."
The offer was clearly another test, perhaps even a trap. Training with Duke Kane's people would put me under constant observation, making it impossible to hide my true abilities.
"Your Majesty is too generous," I replied. "Though I wouldn't want to impose on His Grace's time."
"No imposition at all. Robert is quite interested in your development." Her smile grew sharper. "In fact, he's mentioned you several times in our recent conversations."
My blood chilled, though I kept my expression neutral. If Duke Kane had been discussing me with the Queen, then my secret was already compromised.
The main course arrived—roasted fowl with herbs that made my mouth water despite my growing unease. Queen Victoria continued her gentle interrogation while we ate, probing for information about my background, my goals, and my connections among the younger nobles.
"I understand you've become quite friendly with Lady Sarah Blake," she said casually.
"Lady Sarah has been very kind in helping me adjust to court life."
"The Blakes are a good family. Loyal, wealthy, influential." She paused meaningfully. "Though young Thomas has been somewhat... impulsive in his political associations lately."
The reference to Thomas Blake's imprisonment was subtle but unmistakable. Queen Victoria was reminding me that she held the lives of my friends in her hands.
"I hope Lord Thomas recovers quickly from his illness," I said carefully.
"Oh, I'm sure he will. With proper treatment and... guidance... he should be back to his normal self soon enough." Her dark eyes glittered with malicious amusement. "Though some illnesses can be quite persistent if left untreated."
We finished the main course in relative silence, both of us weighing the subtext of what had been said. Finally, as servants cleared the dishes, Queen Victoria set down her wine glass and fixed me with a direct stare.
"Alex," she said, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "I'm going to be frank with you, as one adult to another. There are rumors circulating about you—rumors that suggest you might be more than you appear."
My heart hammered against my ribs, but I forced myself to meet her gaze steadily. "What kind of rumors, Your Majesty?"
"The kind that suggest exceptional magical abilities running in bloodlines thought extinct." She leaned forward slightly. "The kind that make people wonder about the true parentage of certain... foundlings."
The trap was springing. Queen Victoria knew exactly who I was, and this entire dinner had been an elaborate setup to force a confession or catch me in a lie that would justify whatever action she planned to take.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Your Majesty."
"Don't you?" Her smile turned predatory. "Then perhaps you can explain how a tavern keeper's bastard learned to create shadow constructs solid enough to overpower trained guards?"
The question hung in the air like poison gas. She knew about my confrontation with Duke Kane, which meant she knew about my abilities, my heritage, and probably my plans.
I had perhaps three seconds to decide how to respond before her patience ran out and the evening turned violent.
"Your Majesty seems remarkably well-informed about private conversations," I said finally.
"I make it my business to know about threats to the kingdom's stability." Her voice hardened, losing all pretense of warmth. "And young men with impossible magical abilities definitely qualify as threats."
"Even if those young men have no intention of using their abilities against the crown?"
"Intentions can change. Power corrupts, Alex, especially power that comes without proper guidance or restraint." She stood gracefully, moving to a cabinet that I now realized contained more than decorative items. "Which is why such power must be carefully controlled—or eliminated entirely."
Queen Victoria turned back to face me, holding what appeared to be an ornate crystal pendant. But my enhanced senses detected the magical energies radiating from it—this was a weapon, designed specifically to disrupt and bind magical abilities.
"You have a choice," she continued. "Submit to magical binding that will suppress your abilities permanently, or face the consequences of being declared a threat to royal security."
I remained seated, projecting calm while my mind raced through options. The pendant she held would indeed suppress my magic, but permanently binding my abilities would be tantamount to a death sentence. Without magic, I'd be defenseless against any number of "accidents" that could befall me.
"What about my friends?" I asked.
"What about them?"
"If I agree to your terms, will Thomas Blake and the others be released?"
Queen Victoria's laugh was like breaking glass. "Oh, my dear boy. Did you really think this was a negotiation?" She raised the pendant, its crystal beginning to glow with binding energy. "Your friends will remain exactly where they are, as insurance against any future... complications."
The truth hit me like cold water. She'd never intended to honor any bargain. This dinner had been nothing more than an elaborate execution, designed to eliminate the Blackwood threat once and for all.
Which meant I had nothing left to lose.
I allowed my carefully constructed mental barriers to dissolve, letting my true power flow through me for the first time since arriving at court. Shadows erupted from every corner of the room, wrapping around Queen Victoria like living chains before she could activate the binding pendant.
Her eyes widened in shock as she realized the full extent of what she faced. "Impossible. You're barely seventeen—no one your age should have this level of control."
"I'm not just anyone, Your Majesty." I stood slowly, darkness swirling around me like a living cloak. "I'm the last of the Blackwood line, and I carry the accumulated power of every mage who came before me."
Queen Victoria struggled against the shadow bindings, her own magical defenses flaring to life. Light blazed from her hands, pushing back against my darkness in a display that would have been visible from outside the palace.
"Guards!" she shouted, even as she fought to break free.
"They won't come," I said calmly. "I've warded this entire wing against sound and magical detection. As far as the rest of the palace knows, we're having a pleasant dinner conversation."
For the first time since I'd arrived, genuine fear flickered across her face. Queen Victoria was accustomed to being the predator, not the prey.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Justice. For my parents, for Thomas Blake, for every person who's died because of your ambitions." I stepped closer, letting her see the cold fury in my eyes. "But mostly, I want the truth."
"What truth?"
"About Prince Ryan. About his real father. About the lies you've built your entire reign upon."
The color drained from her face. "How could you possibly know—"
"Because the people you murdered to hide that secret left behind evidence. Detailed, documented proof that Ryan isn't the King's son." I tightened the shadow bindings slightly. "The question is, what are you willing to do to keep that secret?"
Queen Victoria was quiet for a long moment, weighing her options. When she finally spoke, her voice carried the cold calculation of someone making a devil's bargain.
"What do you propose?"
"A trade. Your confession, delivered publicly, in exchange for Ryan's life and your own exile from the kingdom."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I present the evidence to King James myself, along with a full accounting of every murder you've committed to maintain your lies." My smile was sharp as broken glass. "Either way, Your Majesty, your reign ends tonight. The only question is whether it ends with your death or your disgrace."
The silence stretched between us, heavy with the weight of sixteen years of accumulated lies and blood. Finally, Queen Victoria closed her eyes and made her choice.
"Very well," she whispered. "But I want guarantees. Safe passage out of the kingdom for myself and my son, and enough gold to live comfortably in exile."
"Agreed. Provided your confession is complete and public."
"It will be." She opened her eyes, and I saw something that might have been relief mixed with the defeat. "Though I doubt the kingdom will thank you for this revelation."
"The kingdom deserves the truth, regardless of whether they thank me for it."
As I released the shadow bindings and prepared to escort Queen Victoria to what would certainly be the most dramatic court session in the kingdom's history, I couldn't help but wonder if she was right. Sometimes the truth was more dangerous than comfortable lies.
But after tonight, that would be someone else's problem to solve.