The palace had developed a new daily routine.
It began at sunrise with birds chirping, servants sprinting, nobles complaining, and Elira announcing—at full volume—that she was married.
"I AM A WIFE," Elira declared in the corridor, wearing a bright coral dress that made three guards flinch on reflex. "I WILL DO WIFE DUTIES."
Aerin, walking behind her with Mira, whispered, "Why does she say it like a battle cry?"
Mira sipped her tea calmly. "Because to her, peace is a battle."
Elira stopped in front of a maid carrying linens and smiled so brightly it felt like sunlight with teeth.
"Good morning," Elira said.
The maid bowed so fast she almost hit the floor. "Good morning, Your Majesty."
Elira blinked. "I am not a majesty."
The maid froze. "Y-you're… not?"
"I am Wife Three," Elira explained proudly. "There are categories now."
Aerin sighed. "We're not numbering wives."
Elira frowned. "But it is efficient."
Mira's lips twitched. "Just say your name."
Elira nodded solemnly. "I am Elira. I am married. I am peaceful."
The maid nodded so hard her hair shook. "Yes. Peaceful. Wonderful."
Elira leaned in helpfully. "If you ever need protection, I can protect you."
The maid's soul visibly tried to leave her body.
Aerin gently steered Elira away. "Thank you. That's enough protection for one hallway."
Elira looked pleased. "I am contributing."
"You are," Mira agreed, voice calm. "Just… slowly."
Elira clasped her hands. "Slow is good. Slow prevents murder."
Aerin whispered to Mira, "Is she… proud of that?"
Mira nodded. "Very."
In the council hall, the Kingdom of Geb had returned again.
Because apparently they enjoyed suffering.
Their lead envoy sat at the table with the expression of a man who had aged a decade since yesterday.
"I have a simple request," he said, voice tight. "Please, for the love of whatever gods you have… stop adding wives."
Aerin raised a hand. "We aren't adding—"
The doors opened.
A young messenger burst in, panting, holding a sealed letter.
Merrowin took it, broke the seal, and read.
Her face did not change. Which, coming from Merrowin, meant something catastrophic was happening inside her.
"We have received a marriage proposal," she announced.
Aerin slowly turned his head. "From who."
Merrowin's eyes flicked up. "From the Republic of Keth."
The Geb envoy made a sound like a dying kettle.
Aerin blinked. "Keth? The mercantile republic? They don't even have a king."
"They would like to become… closer to our oil," Halbrecht said darkly.
Aerin stared. "They want me to marry an entire republic?"
Merrowin opened the letter. "Specifically, their Trade Duchess."
Aerin's soul tried to climb out of his body again. "A Trade Duchess is a thing?"
Elira perked up immediately. "Is she pretty?"
Aerin looked at Mira for help.
Mira remained calm. "We'll read the letter first."
Elira leaned over Merrowin's shoulder, eyes wide. "Read it to me."
Merrowin began, voice smooth:
"To His Majesty Aerin, Oil King of Aqura—"
Aerin flinched. "They called me that again."
"—We congratulate you on your wise accumulation of spouses and strategic assets…"
The Geb envoy put his head on the table.
Aerin whispered, "This is my life."
Merrowin continued:
"Our Trade Duchess, Lady Solenne of Keth, offers union to strengthen trade and stabilize oil distribution—"
Elira's smile twitched.
Mira noticed immediately.
Elira said, very calmly, "No."
Merrowin kept reading:
"She is prepared to join your royal household under your current legal framework of up to five wives—"
Elira's eye twitched.
Aerin coughed. "We… don't have to accept."
Elira turned slowly toward him.
Her expression was cheerful.
Too cheerful.
"Of course," she said brightly. "You can say no."
Aerin nodded fast. "Yes. I will say no."
Elira smiled even wider. "Good."
She turned back to the letter and added sweetly, "If you say yes, I will be forced to feel."
Aerin swallowed. "Feel what?"
Elira considered. "Various."
Mira placed a calm hand on Elira's arm. "Elira. Breathe."
Elira inhaled.
Exhaled.
"I am breathing," she said. "I am stable."
The Geb envoy lifted his head. "Are we safe?"
Elira smiled. "Probably."
The envoy whispered, "That's not reassuring."
When the meeting ended, Aerin escaped into the corridor like a man fleeing paperwork.
Cassian waited near the archway, posture stiff.
Aerin blinked. "Are you okay?"
Cassian's jaw tightened. "No."
Aerin leaned closer. "Valessara."
Cassian stared at the floor. "She called for me again."
Aerin's stomach sank. "You don't have to—"
"Yes," Cassian cut in sharply. "I do."
Aerin flinched.
Cassian exhaled, softer. "She has leverage. She always finds leverage."
Mira's calm voice came from behind Aerin. "She's tightening control because she feels it slipping."
Cassian's eyes flicked to Mira.
"You notice everything," he muttered.
Mira shrugged lightly. "Someone has to."
Elira stepped forward eagerly. "I can fix this."
Aerin and Cassian said "No" at the exact same time.
Elira frowned. "Why does everyone hate solutions?"
"Because your solutions involve knives," Aerin said.
Elira held up a finger. "Not today. Today I offer… therapy."
Cassian blinked. "Therapy."
Elira nodded proudly. "I have learned this word. It means you say feelings until you are better."
Mira's mouth twitched. "That's… roughly correct."
Elira nodded. "I will do therapy on Cassian."
Cassian's eyes widened. "Absolutely not."
Elira stepped closer, very serious. "Tell me your feelings."
Cassian backed up. "No."
Elira advanced.
"Tell me," she repeated.
Cassian looked helplessly at Aerin. "Make her stop."
Aerin tried. "Elira, maybe later."
Elira turned to Aerin, offended. "You want Cassian to suffer?"
Aerin panicked. "No."
Elira nodded. "Then he must speak."
Cassian sighed like a man entering his own grave. "Fine. My feeling is: I regret my life."
Elira beamed. "Good start."
Cassian glared.
Elira leaned in, whispering like a professional.
"Is Valessara forcing you?"
Cassian froze.
Aerin froze too.
Mira's calm gaze sharpened.
Cassian didn't answer.
Elira nodded knowingly. "Silence is also a feeling."
"That's not—" Cassian began.
Elira continued, unstoppable: "We will free you. We will use strategy. We will use kindness. If that fails, we will use stairs."
Cassian blinked. "Stairs?"
Elira nodded. "Accidents happen."
Aerin choked. "NO STAIRS."
Mira spoke calmly. "Elira, no threats."
Elira straightened. "Apologies. That was… metaphor stairs."
Cassian muttered, "That's not a thing."
"It is now," Elira said, cheerful.
Aerin rubbed his temples. "I can't keep doing this."
"You can," Mira said. "You're doing it."
That was the most Mira encouragement Mira had ever given.
Aerin tried to hold onto that.
That afternoon, Valessara hosted a "post-wedding unity walk" through the palace courtyard.
Which was not unity.
It was performance.
Foreign envoys gathered. Nobles lined the paths. Citizens watched from the gates, murmuring like they were watching a play where the villain had better outfits.
Aerin stood beside Valessara, wearing ceremonial clothing again.
Valessara's fingers curled around his arm.
Not affectionate.
Possessive.
Mira walked on Aerin's other side, composed, chin lifted, refusing to be diminished.
Elira followed behind them wearing bright yellow and smiling like a sun that had once been a storm.
"I am part of the royal procession," she whispered to a guard. "I am peaceful."
The guard nodded. "Yes. Peaceful."
Elira whispered, "If anyone tries to harm him, I will scream."
The guard whispered back, "Please don't."
Valessara waved at the crowd like a queen who had never been told no.
Then she did something small.
She glanced toward the columned walkway.
Cassian stood there.
Their eyes met.
Valessara's expression changed—just for a moment.
Not queenly.
Not political.
Personal.
She tilted her chin slightly, a silent command.
Cassian's jaw clenched.
He stepped forward.
Aerin didn't notice.
He was trying to smile.
Mira noticed instantly.
So did Elira.
Elira's smile faded, just a fraction.
Her head tilted like a predator hearing a distant sound.
Mira murmured calmly, "Elira."
Elira whispered, "I see something."
Mira kept her eyes forward. "Don't."
Elira whispered, "It is suspicious."
Mira replied, still calm, "It can be useful later. Not now."
Elira's fingers twitched at her side.
Aerin glanced back. "What's happening?"
"Nothing," Mira said smoothly.
Elira smiled brightly again. "Nothing."
Aerin relaxed. "Good. I like nothing."
Valessara led them toward the garden pavilion.
As they walked, she subtly drifted away from Aerin—just a little—so she could pass close enough to Cassian for her hand to brush his sleeve.
It looked accidental.
It wasn't.
Mira's eyes narrowed slightly.
Elira's smile twitched.
Cassian's posture went rigid as a blade.
Aerin still didn't notice.
Because Aerin, unfortunately, had never been good at noticing anything that wasn't directly trying to kill him.
Later, the palace hosted a small tea gathering to "stabilize public mood."
Which meant nobles came to drink tea and judge everyone.
Aerin sat at a table with Mira and Elira.
Valessara sat across the room, surrounded by admirers like a queen collecting proof of her power.
Elira stirred her tea intensely.
"I do not like that woman," she announced.
Mira sipped calmly. "We know."
"She does not love Aerin," Elira continued.
Mira nodded. "We know."
"She has a secret," Elira added.
Mira's cup paused.
"What secret?" Mira asked, still calm but attentive.
Elira leaned in, whispering loudly—because Elira did not know what whispering was.
"She looks at Cassian like a hungry wolf."
Mira blinked slowly.
Aerin nearly spit out his tea.
"What?"
Elira nodded solemnly. "Yes. Hungry."
Aerin stared, horrified. "Elira, that's—"
"It is true," Elira insisted. "I saw it."
Aerin's face went pale.
Mira set her cup down carefully, calm as stone.
"That," Mira said softly, "explains a great deal."
Aerin looked between them. "Cassian would never—"
Elira tilted her head. "Cassian is handsome. Women are foolish."
"That's not—" Aerin began.
Elira continued, "Valessara is also foolish, but in an evil way."
Mira almost smiled. Almost.
Aerin whispered, "This is a disaster."
Elira nodded brightly. "Yes."
Aerin blinked. "Why are you happy?"
Elira smiled. "Because if she has a secret, she can be defeated. Secrets are weak points."
Mira's calm gaze sharpened. "Elira is right."
Aerin slumped. "Why is the assassin always right?"
Elira patted his hand. "Because I pay attention."
Mira added, "Because she's motivated."
Elira nodded. "Love is motivating."
Aerin stared at them.
Then whispered, "You two are terrifying."
Mira smiled faintly. "Thank you."
Elira smiled brightly. "Thank you."
That night, Aerin tried to sleep.
He failed.
He paced the corridor outside his chambers, robe swishing, hair a mess, looking like a king whose kingdom had become a romantic disaster he couldn't arrest.
Mira appeared beside him, calm.
"You're spiraling," she observed.
"I'm always spiraling," Aerin whispered. "It's my personality."
Mira nodded. "Then spiral quieter. Elira is asleep."
Aerin blinked. "Elira sleeps?"
Mira pointed at the doorway.
Elira was curled in a chair outside Aerin's room like a guard dog in bright clothing, clutching a pillow and smiling faintly even in sleep.
Aerin's heart softened.
"She really is trying," he whispered.
Mira's voice stayed calm. "Yes."
Aerin looked at Mira. "And you?"
Mira met his eyes. "I'm trying too."
Aerin swallowed. "Are you… okay?"
Mira's expression didn't crack. "I understand the situation."
That was Mira language for it's difficult but I won't break.
Aerin nodded. "I hate that you have to understand."
Mira's gaze softened slightly. "We'll shape it. We always do."
From behind them, a soft voice chimed in.
"And if we cannot shape it," Elira whispered suddenly, eyes open in the dark, "we will reshape it."
Aerin jumped. "YOU WERE AWAKE?"
Elira smiled sweetly. "I woke when you said Valessara."
Aerin groaned. "Of course you did."
Elira stood, smoothing her bright robe.
"I have decided," she announced.
Aerin braced himself. "No."
Elira ignored him.
"I will follow Valessara," she said. "Not with knives. With eyes."
Mira nodded slowly. "That could help."
Aerin stared. "You're supporting this?"
Mira remained calm. "Surveillance is not murder."
Elira nodded proudly. "Yes. It is romantic justice."
Aerin whispered, "This palace is insane."
Elira patted his shoulder. "But it is ours now."
Aerin didn't know if that was comforting or terrifying.
Probably both.
In the far wing of the palace, Valessara stood alone at a window.
Cassian entered silently at her command.
She didn't turn.
"You're late," she said.
Cassian's voice was tight. "I shouldn't be here."
Valessara smiled slightly. "And yet you are."
She stepped closer.
"You will keep appearing when I call," she murmured. "Or I will remind the council who kept you in this palace after everything."
Cassian's hands clenched. "You're using me."
Valessara turned at last, eyes cold.
"Of course I am," she said. "That's what power is."
Cassian's jaw tightened.
Behind the half-open curtain in the corridor, Elira crouched silently.
Watching.
Smiling—just a little.
No knife.
Not yet.
But she was learning something far more dangerous.
Truth.
And truth, in this palace, was sharper than any blade.