The sun hung low in the lavender sky, casting a soft golden hue across the palace windows. But within Aurora's chamber, the morning had started in a low, dull rhythm. She had sat by the window as she had for the past few days, eyes distant, fingers idle against her lap. Her heart remained tethered to a far-off forest trail, where Aldric had ridden out alongside the other kings on a royal hunt.
He had been gone for days now.
She prayed for his safe return in the quiet hours, whispered his name before sleep, clutched the locket he had gifted her beneath her gown.
Faye burst into the chamber, cheeks flushed and apron smudged with flour, Aurora sat up sharply.
"My lady," she gasped, clutching the doorway, "I overheard something—while I was in the kitchen. One of the guards... he was speaking to one of the visiting lords' squires."
Aurora stood quickly. "What is it, Faye?"
"They said something about Elareth." Faye took a deep breath. "Apparently, one of the His Majesty's men passed through on their way here. He said... he said the drought may be over. The streams are flowing again."
Aurora's eyes widened. Her hand flew to her chest. She nearly laughed with relief, her eyes shining with unspilled tears. "Oh... thank the stars."
Her spirits lifted, the gloom in her chest easing.
"My lady, you must attend the dining this morning," Faye said softly. "You have avoided it for too long."
"Yes, I should," Aurora replied. A faint laugh escaped her. "Bring me my dress."
Velmora's royal dining hall for the queens was an airy space, adorned with gleaming crystal chandeliers, soft velvet curtains, and silver-gilded tableware. A spread of fruits, golden bread, and delicate meats lined the table.
The table was smaller than usual, arranged by the windows where golden morning light poured in. But the air was cold.
Aurora stepped into the chamber with deliberate grace, head held high. Faye's news about Elareth had ignited something in her—hope, a flicker of joy.
But she knew the instant she entered, her joy would be tested.
She dipped her head in greeting. "Good morning, Your Majesties."
Selene was already seated, swirling her tea. Her gown was a muted mauve, her expression unreadable. Virelda stood by the window, her back to them, adjusting a ring on her finger.
"Good morning," Selene said flatly, without looking up.
Virelda turned at last, her gaze sharp. "You finally chose to dine with us. How generous."
Aurora ignored the jab, taking her seat with careful poise. "It is customary, is it not? To join one's fellow queens in the king's absence?"
Selene gave a dry laugh. "You are only a slave, dear. Though I suppose, with the way you roam this palace, the titles have begun to blur."
"A slave?" Aurora replied quietly. "Well, I sit at this table now. With you. That makes me a queen."
A hush rippled through the chamber.
"Queen," Virelda echoed, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. "I advise caution with how boldly you wear that title."
Aurora's expression did not change, but she felt the slow coil of anger in her chest.
Selene leaned forward slightly, her eyes like a vulture's. "People are beginning to talk, you know. About the time you spend with His Majesty. It is not proper."
"You care for propriety now?" Aurora asked mildly.
Selene stiffened. Even Virelda's smirk faltered for a beat.
But Aurora did not press further. She took a sip of her tea, letting silence settle again.
Selene said, sneering, "Do not get too comfortable. This palace has a way of chewing up sweet girls who think they matter."
Aurora answered quietly, "I do not think I matter. I simply do." She rose from her seat. "Now, if you will excuse me. I lost my appetite."
Virelda's smile was icy. "You matter? Not for long."
Aurora did not reply. She gave them a single, composed nod, then walked out—each step measured, each heartbeat strong. Outside the door, her maidens waited for her with a worried glance.
"Should I prepare a tea to calm you, my lady?" Faye whispered.
Aurora gave the faintest smile. "No, Faye. Let them worry about calming themselves."
-
The fireplace crackled low, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Queen Selene poured herself a goblet of red wine, her fingers twitching slightly as she turned toward Virelda, who lounged on the velvet chaise.
Selene sipped her drink, gaze sharp. "Aurora is getting out of hand. She once avoided the royal dining like fire. Now she walks in as though the table bends to her will."
There was a pause. Virelda drummed her fingers against the armrest. "Do you remember… the day she was found in the woods?"
Selene looked up sharply.
"When she disappeared overnight," Virelda continued. "And returned pale and shaking, claiming she had no memory of how she got there."
Selene's eyes darkened. "You think something happened to her?"
"I think," Virelda said slowly, "she saw something. Or someone. And whatever it was… changed her."
"She is not just bold," Selene muttered, moving toward the window. "She is glowing. There is something unnatural in her calm. As if she is holding back power."
"Exactly," Virelda added.
They both went quiet, the only sound the soft pop of the fire.
Then Selene murmured, almost to herself, "Perhaps the forest gave her something."
Virelda tilted her head. "Or someone did."
Selene turned, her voice colder now. "Either way… we must find out what—before she becomes a problem we cannot contain."
Virelda gave a soft, humorless laugh. "She is already a problem. The question is—how do we deal with her?"
Their eyes met, a silent pact hanging in the air between them.
-
They began their quiet campaign.
They never confronted her outright — too obvious, too crude. Instead, they watched. Observed. Sent their most discreet handmaidens and loyal guards to gather anything: letters, strange items, herbs—anything to prove Aurora's sudden composure had unnatural roots.
Servants were questioned under false pretenses.
One of Aurora's handmaidens lingered longer than usual. Her steps were followed discreetly when she went to the gardens. Her chamber was searched under the guise of cleaning — books flipped, drawers opened and closed. Meals were watched for changes. Her routines were charted. Even her baths were timed.
And yet, Aurora gave them nothing. Every step, every gesture, every word remained pure, appropriate, poised.
Once, Virelda herself sent a handmaid to hide beneath the drapes in Aurora's chamber during the night, instructed to listen for any muttering, any name spoken in sleep, anything unnatural.
But still, nothing.
She remained her usual self — gentle in tone, calm in presence, always in the gardens or tending to her royal duties. She spent her mornings assisting Queen Ava with some matters, her afternoons quietly reading or walking near the stream. She never strayed far. She never said too much. She moved with grace, kept her routine, and yet…
There was something they could not name. Some shift in the air around her.
"She is aware," Selene whispered one night as she stood by Virelda's window. "She knows we are watching."
"Then why does she not falter?" Virelda snapped, her frustration finally showing.
"Because she is clever. Because she wants us to waste our time chasing shadows," Selene said through clenched teeth.
In truth, Aurora had known from the start.
She had felt the shift among her handmaidens, the way doors opened half a heartbeat before she entered. She had grown up under suspicion and had learned long ago how to play a long, quiet game. Now, she simply played better.
She told her maids nothing of her suspicions. She continued smiling during morning tea, continued offering small, pleasant words when she passed the queens in the hall.
But in her heart, she was deeply unsettled.
-
After weeks of silent watching, the queens reconvened in the rose chamber. A summer storm brewed outside, echoing their mood.
"Nothing," Selene muttered bitterly. "Her journals are clean. Her books are religious. The garden she tends grows nothing but harmless herbs. She keeps no charms, no relics, no correspondence we can question."
"She does not even whisper after dark," Virelda added.
Selene paced. "Then where is her strength coming from?"
A long pause passed before Virelda said what they were both thinking.
"It is His Majesty."
Selene stilled.
Virelda continued, voice low. "His Majesty cares for her. It shows in how he looks at her, how he calls her name. She knows it. That is why she does not cower anymore."
Selene sank into her chair, fingers tightening on the edge. "So this is what she builds her confidence on," she whispered. "Favor."
"And favor," Virelda murmured, "is harder to destroy."
A long pause followed before Selene broke the silence.
"His Majesty is away. There is no better time to take her down."
Virelda did not speak at first, only watched her with narrow eyes.
Selene continued, her voice sharp but quiet. "She has nothing without him. No power. No protection. If we strike now, there will be no one to defend her."
"And how exactly do you plan to strike?" Virelda asked.
"A planted charm. Something small. Sinister. Subtle. Enough to destroy."
Virelda's lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. "And where shall this charm come from?"
"I already have something. A token from an old healer's pouch — reeks of dark enchantments. The maids might not know what it is, but Mother will. She will recognize it instantly."
Virelda considered, then nodded. "Do it. Tonight."
One of Aurora's maids was summoned — the one who used to feed the other queens' servants information about her. She obeyed silently. Slipping into Aurora's chambers while Aurora walked in the gardens with the other maids, she moved like a shadow.
The chamber was still. Peaceful. Easy.
She crept to the bed and, with a trembling hand, placed the dark charm beneath the pillow — a twisted root tied with black string, soaked in ash and wax. It held no true power. But it did not need any. It only needed to be seen.
She returned quickly to the queens, breathless and triumphant. "It is done."
Not wasting a moment, Selene and Virelda marched to Queen Ava's private sitting chamber, feigning grave concern.
"Mother," Virelda said, clasping her hands, "we bring troubling news about Aurora."
"We have reason to believe something dangerous is hidden in her chamber," Selene added. "Something dark."
Ava's eyes sharpened. "You are certain?"
They both nodded solemnly.
Ava rose without another word, summoning two of her own maids. The three queens — Ava, Selene, and Virelda — made their way to Aurora's chambers with quiet haste.
Aurora was seated when they entered, brushing her long white hair as Lira and another maid folded silks into a chest nearby.
She stood quickly and bowed.
"Mother," Aurora greeted, lowering her head respectfully. "You honor my chamber. May I ask what brings you here?"
Ava, regal and composed, looked her in the eye. "I received a report. That something ominous has been hidden in this chamber. I have come to see for myself."
Aurora blinked once. "Ominous?" she asked, but her voice was calm. Her eyes flicked, just for a moment, toward her pillow.
Ava signaled to her maids.
They moved at once, heading straight for the bed and lifting the pillow.
Nothing.
The bed was clean. The sheets were smooth. The pillow — empty.
Selene's eyes widened. Virelda straightened.
"Check the chamber well," Selene ordered sharply, stepping forward. "Check everything. The wardrobe. The desk. Under the rug."
The maids obeyed, checking every inch of the chamber, while Aurora stepped aside, saying nothing, her hands folded gracefully in front of her.
Still nothing.
Queen Ava turned to the two women slowly.
"Well?" she asked, her voice low and heavy. "Where is it?"
Neither queen answered. Selene's face had gone pale. Virelda's mouth opened but no sound came.
"You dragged me here for nothing," Ava said coldly.
Virelda dropped to her knees first. "Forgive us, Mother. We… we were misinformed…"
Selene followed, kneeling quickly. "Please Mother…we only wanted to protect the crown."
Ava waved a hand sharply. "From what? A girl sitting quietly in her chambers? You have embarrassed yourselves—both of you."
She turned to Aurora, her voice softening. "Forgive them. Some people let fear cloud their judgment."
With that, she turned and swept from the chamber, leaving the two queens kneeling behind her.
Virelda stood up slowly, shame burning through her cheeks. She gave Aurora's maid one last unreadable look and walked out. Selene followed, her pride wounded and her mind already racing with excuses.
When the chamber was finally clear, Aurora exhaled.
The silence was broken as Faye and the other maid rushed toward her.
"My lady, thank heavens you checked first!"
Earlier, just before returning from the gardens, Aurora had felt a strange heaviness in her chest — a quiet tug, a whisper of warning. As soon as she stepped into her chamber, she had gone to her bed… and lifted her pillow.
She found the charm sitting there, smelling of smoke and rot.
Without a word, she had handed it to Faye. "Hide it. Quickly. Somewhere outside the palace."
Now, Aurora sat heavily on the edge of the bed, her composure cracking just slightly. She studied her maids and spoke quietly.
"I have eight of you. Five were with me in the garden. Three were not." Her gaze fixed on the other three. "Which one of you did it?"
The three shifted uneasily.
"I was in the laundry chamber," one said.
"I was in the lower chamber, my lady," another said.
"I—I was in the kitchen," the last stammered.
Aurora rose and walked to Myla, the quietest of her maids. "Myla. You did it, did you not?"
"No, my lady! I did not!" she trembled.
"Myla, you did it," Aurora snapped, eyes flashing.
The other maids shifted uneasily. They had never seen Aurora like this.
"Look at me," Aurora commanded.
Myla hesitated, lifting her gaze. The moment her eyes met Aurora's, something pierced her gut. She sank to her knees, sobbing.
"I—I am sorry, my lady. I was threatened."
Aurora's voice cut through her tears. "No. You were not threatened. You chose to do it."
"No, my lady! I did not—"
"Still lying?"
Myla's gaze dropped. Tears streamed down her face. "I did not know what came over me… forgive me, my lady."
Aurora sighed. "Did you know what this could have caused?"
Myla sobbed harder, the others stood frozen, eyes wide.
"You are dismissed. I do not wish to see you near my chambers again."
"My lady, please—"
"Leave now," Aurora said, voice cold.
Myla left, head bowed, regret weighing her down.
"I want to be left alone," she said.
"But, my lady—" Lira began.
"Everyone leave."
They filed out silently, heads bowed.
Aurora sank back onto the bed, heart heavy. Queen Ava had been right, an enemy outside is perilous—but an enemy within? She closed her eyes, letting disappointment settle like a stone.