Queen Seraphine did not sleep.
She sat alone in her solar long after the palace lights dimmed, the echoes of applause still ringing faintly in her ears. Applause meant approval. Approval meant loyalty.
And loyalty was slipping from her grasp.
"She endured the ritual," the king said quietly from the shadows. "Publicly. Cleanly."
Seraphine's fingers tightened around the stem of her goblet.
"Yes," she replied. "She did."
The king hesitated. "Perhaps we misjudged—"
"No," Seraphine snapped, then stilled herself. She rose slowly, smoothing the folds of her gown. "We underestimated her timing."
She turned to face him, all softness gone from her expression.
"She is no longer hiding," Seraphine continued. "She is choosing when to be seen."
The king frowned. "What do you intend to do?"
Seraphine smiled.
Not kindly.
"We stop asking," she said. "And we stop testing."
The order went out before dawn.
Princess Aelira was stripped of ceremonial privileges.
No more public appearances without approval. No private movements after sunset. All correspondence reviewed. All visits recorded.
Protection, rewritten as confinement.
Aelira learned of it from the guards outside her door.
Two of them now.
Permanent.
She regarded them calmly. "Is this the queen's order?"
"Yes, Your Highness," one replied, eyes fixed straight ahead.
"Of course," Aelira said softly.
When the door closed, the silence pressed in.
Not fear.
Resolve.
Kael found her later that morning, anger tightly leashed beneath his composure.
"This wasn't agreed upon," he said flatly.
Aelira looked up from the window. "It never is."
"She's isolating you again," he continued. "Only now she's not pretending it's kindness."
"No," Aelira replied. "Now she's calling it authority."
Kael stepped closer, voice low. "Say the word, and I'll remove the guards."
She turned to him sharply. "No."
His jaw tightened. "She's provoking you."
"Yes," Aelira said. "And if you move now, she wins."
Silence stretched between them.
"She wants me alone," Aelira continued quietly. "Visible. Watched. Restricted."
Kael met her gaze. "And you?"
"I want her impatient."
A beat.
Then Kael nodded. "Then we change tactics."
That evening, Queen Seraphine received word.
Princess Aelira had complied without protest.
No outburst. No plea. No visible resistance.
The queen frowned.
"She's too calm," Seraphine murmured.
She turned toward the window, staring out at the palace grounds.
"Prepare the next phase," she ordered. "If she won't break under pressure—"
Her smile sharpened.
"—we give her something she cannot refuse."
In her chambers, Aelira stood before the mirror, removing her ring slowly.
The warmth inside her stirred at once—alert, coiled, waiting.
She slipped the ring back on.
"Soon," she whispered to her reflection.
Outside her door, guards stood watch.
Inside her chest, something far more dangerous did.
Because the mask had fallen.
And now the war was honest.