The next morning, the palace was quiet, but not peaceful. The air was thick with silence — the kind that comes after a storm. Lords who had spoken loudly in the council now kept their heads down. Servants moved like shadows, afraid to be seen, afraid to be noticed.
Cyrus felt it.
He stood in his room, looking out over the city. The fog had lifted. The sun was weak, pale, but it was there. The city moved below — carts, guards, merchants, beggars — all of them blind to the real war being fought inside the palace.
A knock came at the door.
"Enter," he said.
The door opened. Silas Arren stepped in, his face calm, his one good eye sharp.
"She is here," Silas said.
Cyrus did not turn. "Mira."
Silas nodded. "Lady Mira Corvin. She arrived an hour ago. The Queen's chamber brought her. They say it is a 'chance meeting' in the garden."
Cyrus smiled, cold. "Nothing in this palace is chance. The Queen wants her near me. The lords want her to soften me. Mira wants… something. I don't care what. I only care how I can use her."
Silas studied him. "She is clever. And she is young. That makes her dangerous."
Cyrus finally turned. "Then I will make her more dangerous. But on my terms."
He walked to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a small, sealed letter.
"Give this to her," he said. "Not now. Later. When she is alone, when she thinks no one is watching. And when she reads it, watch her face. I want to know what she feels."
Silas took the letter. "And if she refuses to play?"
Cyrus's voice was flat. "Then she is useless. And useless people do not survive in this court."
Silas said nothing. He bowed and left.
Cyrus sat by the window and waited.
***
The garden was a trap of beauty.
Flowers, trimmed hedges, fountains, statues of old kings and queens — all of it designed to make people feel safe, to make them forget they were still in the palace, still in the game.
Cyrus walked slowly, hands behind his back, his face calm. He did not look for her. He let her find him.
And she did.
Lady Mira Corvin stood near a fountain, dressed in deep green, her dark hair tied back, her eyes sharp. She was nineteen, but she did not look like a girl. She looked like a woman who had already learned how to survive.
She bowed slightly. "Your Highness."
Cyrus stopped. "Lady Mira. I did not expect to see you here."
She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "Nor I you. The Queen said the garden was a good place to clear the mind after yesterday's council."
Cyrus looked at the fountain. "The Queen says many things. Most of them are lies."
Mira did not flinch. "And what do you say, Your Highness?"
"I say nothing. I only ask questions."
She studied him. "Then ask one."
Cyrus turned to face her. "Why are you here?"
She did not answer immediately. "I am here because I was invited."
"That is not an answer," Cyrus said. "You were invited by the Queen. But why did you accept?"
Mira's eyes narrowed. "Because I wanted to see the prince who broke Lord Varn with one question."
Cyrus smiled, cold. "And what did you see?"
"A man who is not afraid to cut through lies."
"And what do you think of that man?"
Mira paused. "I think he is dangerous."
Cyrus stepped closer. "Good. You are not stupid. Most people here think I am cruel. But cruelty is emotion. I am not cruel. I am honest. And honesty is the most dangerous thing in this court."
Mira looked at him, really looked. "And what do you want from me, Prince Cyrus?"
Cyrus did not answer. He only watched her. He saw the way her fingers tightened slightly on the edge of her dress. He saw the small breath she took before speaking. He saw the lie in her eyes when she said she was not afraid.
He knew then: she was not here for love. She was here for power.
And that made her useful.
He stepped back. "I want nothing from you. Not yet. But I will watch you. I will learn you. And when the time comes, I will decide whether you are a weapon… or a corpse."
He turned and walked away, leaving her standing by the fountain.
Behind a hedge, Silas watched, the sealed letter in his hand.
Later, when Mira was alone in her room, he slipped the letter under her door.
Inside, the letter said only three words:
> "You are seen."
***
That night, Cyrus sat in his study, a single candle burning.
He did not read. He did not write. He only thought.
Mira was clever. She would not fall easily. She would test him, watch him, try to use him as much as he wanted to use her.
Good.
He did not want a fool. He wanted a blade.
He opened a drawer and took out a blank sheet of paper. At the top, he wrote:
> **The Harem of Questions**
Below it, he began to list names.
1. **Princess Lysara of Lirath**
- Use: Bind Vaelis to Lirath's wealth and navy.
- Weakness: Ambition. She wants power, not love.
- Plan: Let her believe she controls the alliance. Use her to control Lirath.
2. **Lady Elara Vale**
- Use: Make the people believe I am just, wise, a philosopher-king.
- Weakness: Idealism. She believes in truth and justice.
- Plan: Give her just enough truth to keep her loyal. Use her to control the Academy and the Faith.
3. **Princess Anya of Sarath**
- Use: Delay or control Sarath's interference. Gain access to their intelligence and military.
- Weakness: Loyalty to her Empress.
- Plan: Let her believe she is using me. Use her to feed false information back to Sarath.
4. **Lady Mira Corvin**
- Use: Control the noble houses, spread rumors, eliminate rivals.
- Weakness: Pride. She believes she is smarter than most.
- Plan: Make her believe she is my only real love. Use her to do the dirty work no one else will touch.
He stared at the list.
He did not love any of them. He would never love anyone.
But he would use them.
And when they were no longer useful, he would discard them.
He blew out the candle and sat in the dark.
The first weapon was in place.
The war had truly begun.