[Lavinia's POV—Imperial Palace—Moments Later]
The newspaper crumpled in my hand, not from fear, but from fury.
"Traitor from Astreon," I repeated softly and dangerously.
My voice was calm—but the room felt colder. Theon swallowed, and Ravick stiffened in anger; this was not rumor.
This was strategy.
A blade wrapped in ink. They did not attack Haldor with swords; they attacked him with the one thing more poisonous than magic—public doubt.
I exhaled slowly and handed the paper back to Ravick.
"So," I said, turning toward the window where the city stretched golden and unaware, "they've decided to make my husband their battlefield."
Ravick's jaw tightened. "Your Highness… the streets are already whispering. The nobles will use this to—"
"To test me," I finished coldly. I turned back to them, my voice sharpening like a drawn blade. "They are not questioning Haldor. They are questioning my judgment."
A dangerous smile curved my lips.
