The summons came in the late afternoon.
Delivered not by a footman, but by a white-gloved handmaiden dressed in royal gray—silent, sharp-eyed, and unmistakably from the queen's personal retinue.
Aveline unfolded the note.
Only five words, written in looping calligraphy:
Come. No attendants. No delay.
Her pulse quickened.
She changed quickly—into a gown of ink-blue silk, modest but regal, with sleeves that whispered like secrets. No jewelry but a single pin at her throat.
The walk through the palace felt longer than usual. Quieter.
And when she was led through the doors of the Queen's solar—a chamber rarely entered by anyone not bound in blood or absolute favor—she understood why.
Queen Seraphine stood alone, gazing out over the gardens, her silver-blonde hair pinned in an elegant braid crowned with amethysts. Sunlight laced through the stained-glass windows behind her, casting violet and gold across the marble floor.
She didn't turn when Aveline entered.
"You speak well," the queen said softly. "And you don't tremble when someone tries to cut you down."
Aveline bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"I didn't say it was a compliment," Seraphine replied, finally turning. Her eyes were a striking steel-gray—clear, cold, knowing. "Most women who play with fire end up ash. But then again… ash makes fertile ground."
Aveline stayed still.
Seraphine stepped closer, studying her like a scholar might study a dangerous artifact. "You remind me of someone I once knew. She was clever, too. Clever enough to see traps, but not always to avoid them."
"Your Majesty…"
"I've kept silent while the court circles you like vultures," Seraphine continued. "Some think it's because I don't care."
A pause.
"But I've been watching, Lady Everwind."
She circled Aveline now—once, twice.
"You humiliated Calista without spilling blood. You've aligned with the High Mage, though you think no one knows. You've captured Lucien's attention, and now Thorne's."
She stopped in front of her.
"I want to know what you want."
Aveline met her gaze evenly. "Justice."
"Revenge?"
"They're not always different."
The queen tilted her head. "And if I offered you something greater? Something rarer than both?"
Aveline said nothing.
Seraphine leaned in, voice a whisper. "Influence. Real power. A seat where the true decisions are made. Not the throne. The hands behind it."
A breath passed.
"And in return?" Aveline asked.
Seraphine smiled—slow, serpentine.
"When the time comes, I will ask for a favor. One only you can grant. Until then…" She walked back to the window, her silhouette framed in violet.
"Keep playing your game. But understand—you're not the only one with a plan."
Aveline left the Queen's solar in measured strides, each step echoing louder than the last.
She didn't speak. She didn't glance at the maids or guards.
But her mind was a storm.
A favor.
The Queen never offered alliances lightly—only weapons to those sharp enough not to cut themselves.
By the time she returned to her wing of the palace, dusk had settled over the spires. The air was thick with whispers and perfume from the banquet halls below. But Aveline didn't change. She didn't rest.
She called a meeting.
Lucien arrived first, shadowed by the scent of ink and smoke, his robes half-wrapped, eyes tired but alert.
"You sent word," he said simply.
Elise came next, glancing over her shoulder as if the palace walls had grown ears.
Then Caden. Silent, brooding, lingering in the doorway before stepping in and closing it behind him.
Aveline didn't waste time.
"The Queen summoned me."
That silenced them all.
"She wants something," Aveline continued, "but not now. She offered me support in return for a future favor."
Lucien's brows lifted. "And you accepted?"
"I didn't decline."
"You never should," Caden said. "Not with someone like Seraphine. She collects promises the way men collect coin—and she spends them harder."
Aveline looked at each of them in turn.
"Elise. What have you heard?"
The maid hesitated, then spoke. "There's talk spreading fast—about you. Not scandal. Speculation. Nobles wondering whose side you're on. Some say you're the King's newest favorite. Others say… you're the Queen's weapon."
"She's being watched," Lucien murmured, "from every angle."
"Then let them watch," Aveline replied coldly. "If they waste time watching me, they'll miss what I'm doing."
Caden leaned forward. "And what are we doing?"
Aveline's smile was sharp.
"We're building something. One piece at a time. Today it's the Queen. Tomorrow… perhaps the Court of Mages. Or the military. Or the common houses."
She stood, her voice gaining steel.
"I won't be someone's pawn. And I won't play at survival. I came back to burn out the rot. Every piece of it."
Lucien tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming. "Then let's hope the board doesn't burn with it."
That night, the palace slept.
But not her.
Aveline sat by the hearth in her chambers, a map spread across the table before her—stitched silk, inked with borders and banners. Her fingers traced over each crest, each house, each old alliance built on broken oaths.
She was searching for weak spots.
For leverage.
There would be no second chances.
A knock at the door.
Elise opened it a crack, then stepped aside. "He insisted."
Lucien entered, holding two glasses of something dark and smooth.
"You look like a general," he said, offering one.
"I feel like a threat," Aveline replied, accepting it.
They sipped in silence for a moment.
Then Lucien leaned against the mantel. "You're not sleeping."
"I'm not safe."
"Is it the Queen?"
Aveline shook her head slowly. "It's what comes next. Power doesn't rest. Neither will I."
Lucien's gaze lingered on her.
"You know," he said quietly, "it's a strange thing. Watching someone rise when everyone expects them to fall."
Aveline looked up.
"What are you saying?"
He stepped forward.
"That you don't have to carry all of it alone. I'm not loyal because you're useful. I'm loyal because you frighten the right people—and because you haven't become what they are."
A beat of silence stretched between them.
Aveline nodded once, softly. "Then help me make them regret underestimating me."
Lucien smirked. "With pleasure."