Chapter Twelve: Letters and Lies
The day after General Arden's warning, the palace was restless. Servants moved faster. Guards stood stiffer. Even the air felt thicker.
I spent the morning in the royal library—not to read, but to search. Lorenzo once said everything worth knowing in the palace was hidden in plain sight. So I wandered the rows of gilded bookshelves and ran my fingers along the leather spines until one gave way.
A false book.
Inside was a velvet pouch. And inside the pouch—a stack of letters. All unsigned. All written in the same sharp, elegant hand.
> "She is colder than we anticipated. But cold things do not break. They crack."
"Her bloodline still matters. We must act before the queen binds her to the throne completely."
"We have one chance. Midnight. The garden."
Elira gasped softly as I handed her the final note.
"These are from them?"
"The Thorn Circle," I said. "They've been watching me since the first night."
Elira whispered, "How did these end up in the library?"
"Someone hid them. Someone wanted them found."
I didn't know who.
But I knew what to do.
I made a copy of each letter. Then I burned the originals.
Let the Circle know I found them.
Let them wonder how much I now knew.
---
That evening, I walked the garden alone.
Just before midnight.
I passed the roses. The cold fountains. The shadowed hedges. The marble statues of forgotten kings.
And there, beneath a flowering tree, stood a girl no older than sixteen.
She didn't bow. She didn't speak.
She handed me a folded parchment, then vanished between the bushes like mist.
I opened the note.
> "You were never meant to survive the palace. And yet you persist.
We are watching.
Choose your mask, Princess.
We offer you one last gift."
Beneath the letter was a pin—silver, with the hourglass insignia.
And a drop of red on its tip.
Poison.
Or warning.
I left it on the bench.
Let them know I wasn't afraid.
Chapter Thirteen: The Crown Returns
The next morning, the bells rang.
Not for prayer. Not for death.
But for return.
I ran to the balcony, heart in my throat.
Lorenzo rode through the gates with four guards behind him, his black cloak dusted in frost, his hair tousled from wind. But his eyes—those fierce, dark eyes—found me in an instant.
He dismounted before the stable boy could assist and stormed into the palace like a man who knew it might burn behind him.
I was in the main hall before he reached the steps.
"Zara," he breathed, his voice sharp with relief.
He crushed me against him. His armor was cold. His scent was wild and wind-bitten.
"You're safe," he whispered. "Gods, you're safe."
I pulled back. "You left without a word."
"I had to. There was no time."
I studied his face. It was harder. Sharper.
"What happened?"
"Rebellion stirs. And worse—someone here is feeding it."
He looked over his shoulder. Then back at me.
"Come. We talk in the solar. Alone."
---
Inside the solar, he poured wine for us both.
"The Thorn Circle is real," he said. "They're deeper than I thought."
"I know. They've approached me. Twice."
He froze. Then looked at me with new eyes.
"And?"
"I said no. But they haven't stopped. They won't."
Lorenzo sat heavily in his chair. "We have enemies in every hallway. Even the Queen Mother is not blind to it."
"She knows?"
"She knows. But she thinks she can