She turned back to the window, her silhouette outlined against moonlight and distant stars.
"We have ten days until the ceremony," she said, her voice carrying across the frozen study. "Ten days to ensure it never happens. To create circumstances where Soren must choose between this woman and his empire's stability. To make her presence so costly, so dangerous, so absolutely intolerable that even his infatuation cannot justify maintaining it."
The nobles exchanged glances, uncertainty and fear mingling with desperate hope that she actually had a plan beyond their panicked scheming.
"We will move carefully," Vetra continued. "No direct confrontation. No obvious attacks that could be traced back to us. Instead, we will use what she herself provided: doubt. Fear. The very reputation she carries like armor can be turned into a weapon against her."
She glanced back over her shoulder, her expression contemplative.
