Queen Seraphine did not summon Cassian Vale.
That would have been too obvious.
Instead, she sent for his debts.
The invitation arrived at dusk—an unsigned note delivered with impeccable timing, requesting his presence in the western council chamber. No seal. No guards. No witnesses.
Cassian knew better than to refuse.
The chamber was dimly lit when he entered. Only a single candelabra burned near the long table, casting shadows that stretched and twisted across the stone walls.
The queen stood at the far end, back to him, gazing out the narrow window.
"You were warned," she said softly, without turning.
Cassian froze.
"I—Your Majesty—"
"You are clever," Seraphine continued calmly. "But clever men often mistake silence for safety."
She turned then, her gaze sharp and cold. "Did you truly believe Commander Draven would confront you without consequence?"
Cassian swallowed. "He overstepped."
"No," the queen said lightly. "He acted exactly as expected."
She moved closer, her presence tightening the air. "Which makes you useful again."
Cassian's pulse quickened. "Useful… how?"
Seraphine smiled. "By doing what you do best."
She placed a sealed parchment on the table and slid it toward him.
"A trade agreement," she said. "Harmless on the surface. You will sponsor it publicly."
Cassian glanced at the document, unease crawling up his spine. "And privately?"
"You will invite Princess Aelira to attend," the queen replied. "Insist. Flatter. Push."
Cassian stiffened. "Commander Draven—"
"Will not interfere," Seraphine interrupted. "Because this time, he will not see the blade coming."
Cassian hesitated. "And if the princess refuses?"
The queen's smile never wavered. "She won't. You will make sure of that."
Cassian exhaled slowly. "And if I fail?"
Seraphine leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Then you will discover how quickly protection disappears."
Silence fell.
Cassian bowed deeply. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
Aelira received the invitation the next morning.
A formal proposal. A council-sponsored gathering. Cassian's name stamped prominently at the bottom.
She read it once.
Twice.
Then smiled.
"They always think subtlety belongs to them," she murmured.
Kael stood across the room, arms crossed, eyes dark.
"This is bait," he said.
"Yes," Aelira agreed. "Carefully chosen."
"Cassian is being used," Kael added.
"And so are we," she replied.
Kael's jaw tightened. "I can end this."
Aelira shook her head. "No. You can't."
She folded the parchment neatly. "This time, we let the queen think she's directing the play."
"And when the trap closes?" Kael asked.
Aelira's gaze lifted—calm, precise, unafraid.
"Then," she said softly, "we decide who it closes on."
Kael watched her for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"Tell me what you need."
Aelira smiled—slow and dangerous.
"Everything," she said.
Outside the chamber, the palace buzzed with anticipation.
None of them realized—
The queen had just revealed her hand.
And the princess was already planning how to break it.