RONEVAL – GARDENS OF THE WEST WING, LATE MORNING
It was the first time Lysandra had seen flowers in Roneval.
The war fortress did not favor beauty, but someone had carved out a corner of it and filled it with white roses, trimmed hedges, and a fountain that babbled like it had secrets to share. Birds even dared to sing here.
It felt... wrong.
So naturally, she'd been invited.
A formal luncheon, hosted by Duchess Marienne Valcoran—a noblewoman from the capital who had arrived the night before, draped in silk and perfumed threats.
Lysandra was escorted by two silent guards and a maid who kept glancing at her as if she'd explode into scandal at any moment.
LYSANDRA (sotto voice):
"Relax. I only do that after dessert."
The maid dropped her eyes, trying not to smile.
RONEVAL – GARDEN LUNCHEON, MINUTES LATER
The long table under the roses gleamed with silver and crystal. Six guests had already arrived. Highborns from various border houses, all loyal to the capital. Each one looked Lysandra up and down like she was a misbehaving wine stain on a wedding dress.
At the head of the table sat Duchess Marienne. Regal, sharp-cheeked, and smiling with the warmth of a knife dipped in honey.
DUCHESS MARIENNE:
"Princess Lysandra. What a delight. We've heard so much about you."
LYSANDRA (sitting delicately):
"All lies, I assure you. The better stories are still being written."
The duchess's lips curled.
DUCHESS MARIENNE:
"Indeed. Let us hope they end with honor."
LYSANDRA:
"I prefer a plot twist."
Servants poured wine. Laughter murmured. But beneath it all was tension—the kind that threaded through every blink and word.
RONEVAL – FROM ABOVE, KAEL'S BALCONY
Duke Kael stood unseen above the garden, arms crossed.
He said nothing as General Erwin stepped beside him.
GENERAL ERWIN:
"Why is she among wolves?"
KAEL:
"Because I want to see who bites."
RONEVAL – LUNCHEON, MIDWAY
LYSANDRA:
"Oh, this roast is excellent. If this is what loyalty to the crown tastes like, perhaps I should reconsider."
DUKE FARREN (a sneering man with too many rings):
"You speak lightly of dangerous things, Your Highness."
LYSANDRA (smiling):
"Only because the heavy things tend to be swords."
DUCHESS MARIENNE (leaning in):
"Do you enjoy it here, among warriors? Or do you miss the velvet chains of your former court?"
LYSANDRA:
"I miss the books. But not the liars."
Pause.
LYSANDRA (tilting her head):
"Present company excluded, of course."
There was a flicker—a single beat—where expressions faltered.
Duchess Marienne raised her glass.
DUCHESS MARIENNE:
"To clarity. However brief."
They drank.
Lysandra only pretended to sip.
RONEVAL – UNDER THE TABLE
A note was passed—folded, sealed with wax.
From one noble to another.
Intercepted by a servant loyal to Kael.
RONEVAL – BALCONY, LATER
KAEL read the note as the ink dried in his mind.
"She suspects. Delay action until she is moved. Black Chamber awaits in Marinth. Use the masquerade."
He burned the paper in his gloved palm.
KAEL (coldly):
"They want to remove her from Roneval."
GENERAL ERWIN:
"Shall I order her kept here?"
KAEL:
"No."
GENERAL ERWIN:
"No?"
KAEL (grim):
"I want them to think they've won."
RONEVAL – LYSANDRA'S PRIVATE QUARTERS, THAT NIGHT
Lysandra tore the pins from her hair and let it fall.
The luncheon had shaken her. Not because of their words—but because of the way they smiled. Like cobras waiting for warmth.
She opened the drawer. Inside lay the stolen letter.
And beside it now... a second one.
Unmarked. New.
She picked it up slowly.
Inside, a single line, in a hand she did not recognize:
"They will wear masks. You must not."
Her breath caught.
LYSANDRA (whispering):
"Who…?"
But there was no signature.
Just the faint scent of lavender and smoke.
Preview – Chapter 6: The Masquerade in Marinth
Under the guise of diplomacy, Lysandra is sent to a masquerade in the city of Marinth—a glittering event where masks conceal motives and knives hide behind compliments. But Kael is not far behind. And he is not wearing a mask