The rumors began quietly.
Not in whispers, not in polite hints, but in glances. A tilt of a head. A double-take as Aurelia walked past a servant. A tightening of the lips among ladies-in-waiting as she passed the kitchens. Even the palace cats, she joked to herself, regarded her with cautious curiosity.
I shouldn't exist, she thought, recalling Kael's warning. Not after what they've seen.
By midmorning, the murmurs had taken shape.
"The queen… she is alive," someone said in the market beneath the palace walls. The voice was low, hesitant. "But… why? How? It isn't right."
"And they say she walks in the gardens with the king," another whispered. "The curse should have ended her long ago."
Aurelia tightened her cloak around her shoulders and moved through the corridors, aware of the weight of eyes upon her. It was almost worse than the curse itself—the unspoken expectation that she would falter, that her body would betray her, that death would claim her quietly while everyone looked away.
They aren't expecting a queen. They're expecting a ghost, she thought. And perhaps that was her advantage.
The High Council gathered once again in the midafternoon. Unlike the previous inquiry, this assembly was public among the palace elite, though still formally conducted under Kael's watchful eye. The hall smelled of polished wood and incense—a scent meant to inspire reverence, yet Aurelia found only tension in it.
Varin's eyes were sharp, calculating. He had no illusions about the rumors. He had heard them, and everyone in attendance had too. The queen who shouldn't exist, the one who survived the curse, the anomaly.
"Your Majesty," he said, turning his attention to Kael, "we must address the… unusual circumstances surrounding the queen. There are… questions regarding her survival and the king's actions."
Kael's expression darkened. "There are no questions," he said. "Only assumptions. And assumptions are dangerous in this palace."
Varin's lips tightened. "The court may view them otherwise."
Aurelia could see it—the slight shift in power dynamics, the subtle realization among the councilors that she was a variable none of them understood. And that, for her, was a weapon.
"I exist," she said, voice clear, "and I intend to remain so." Her eyes swept across the council, daring them to challenge her. "Any other consideration is speculation. Dangerous speculation."
A stunned silence followed. Not all, but most, of the councilors recognized that this queen was unlike any before her—unflinching, self-possessed, and unafraid to confront authority directly.
Later, as the council dispersed, Aurelia walked through the palace gardens, her mind alive with strategy. Each footstep on the cobblestones reminded her that she had survived, that the curse had hesitated, and that her very presence was unsettling the carefully constructed balance of fear and control in the court.
A soft rustle from the hedges drew her attention. Kael emerged from the shadows, his cloak whispering against the stone path.
"You walk too openly," he said, voice low, eyes scanning the trees for unseen watchers. "The court sees everything. They are waiting for proof that you cannot survive."
"Then they will be disappointed," Aurelia replied, keeping her tone even, her gaze steady. "I will not make it easy for them to remove me from this world."
He studied her, as if measuring her for a second time. "You are reckless," he said, finally.
"I am alive," she said softly, "and I intend to remain so. Isn't that more important than caution?"
Kael's jaw tightened. He said nothing for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled faintly—a gesture brief, fleeting, almost imperceptible, but enough to unsettle her in ways the curse never had.
"Survival has a cost," he said. "And I will ensure you understand it before the council does."
Aurelia tilted her head. "I think I'm ready."
That evening, Aurelia returned to her chambers to find a note slipped beneath her door. The handwriting was unmistakable—sharp, deliberate, and unmistakably Kael's.
Do not underestimate them. They will test you in ways the curse cannot. Be vigilant. I will come to you at midnight.
She tucked the note into her gown and let her thoughts drift. The palace was alive with tension, and every corner whispered warnings. The servants spoke quietly of queens who had vanished, and the nobility murmured about curses, survival, and the dangerous anomaly that was now the queen.
Aurelia walked to her window and looked out at the moonlit gardens. Shadows stretched long and serpentine across the palace grounds. Somewhere in the darkness, the curse waited, curious but restrained. Somewhere else, Kael watched—protective, dangerous, and enigmatic.
She was not helpless. She was not alone. But the palace was watching, and it would not forgive mistakes.
If they find out the truth about me, she thought, it will not be death alone—they will demand understanding, explanation, and control. I will not give them any.
And for the first time, she felt not fear, but a fierce clarity.
The queen who shouldn't exist had no intention of disappearing quietly.