Back at the palace, the castle stood tall and proud as dark clouds gathered above it, the moon half it's light seeking entrace to display it light.
Servants move with quiet stillness, each doing the task given to them. Aria learned the guards had changed their routes.
That alone set her nerves on edge.
She and Mirelle worked side by side in the west corridor, polishing silver candleholders. Mirelle hummed softly, trying and failing.to lighten the mood.
"You look like you're about to steal something," Mirelle whispered.
Aria didn't look up. "I'm cleaning."
"Yes," Mirelle replied dryly. "Very… suspiciously."
Aria exhaled through her nose. "The guards moved last night. The lower levels are sealed again."
Mirelle stiffened. "That's not normal."
"Neither is moving humans without records," Aria said quietly.
Mirelle's eyes widened. "People?"
Aria hesitated, then nodded. "I overheard guards talking. About transports."
Mirelle swallowed. "Aria… if this has anything to do with prisoners.
"I know," Aria said softly. "Which is why I have to be careful."
They fell silent as footsteps approached.
A senior maid passed, sharp-eyed and watchful. Aria lowered her gaze immediately, heart thudding until the woman disappeared down the hall.
Mirelle leaned in. "You're braver than you should be."
Aria almost smiled. "I'm trying not to be."
That night, while everyone has lay to rest and prepare for the day ahead, lay on her back restless, she heard footsteps coming down the hall way, fear gripped her, heart beating faster and louder out of curiosity, Aria slipped out again, careful not to be caught.
This time, she did not go underground.
She went upward to the old watch gallery overlooking the inner courtyard. From there, she saw something that made her blood run cold.
Carriages.
Unmarked. Heavy. Guarded.
Leaving the palace grounds.
Her fingers tightened against the stone railing.
Whatever Lucien had left to deal with beyond the walls… something dangerous was happening within them.
---
Back in Viremont, Lucien stood alone on a balcony overlooking the city.
The wind carried the distant sounds of night laughter, whispers, hunger. He sensed it then. Not a vision. Not certainty.
Unease.
Something shifting behind his back.
Seraphyne joined him quietly. "You should be careful, Lucien."
He did not turn. "Is that concern?"
"Call it experience," she said smoothly. "Eryndor will move soon. He always does."
Lucien's mouth curved faintly. "Then let him."
Seraphyne studied him. "You sound confident."
"I am," Lucien replied. "But confidence does not mean blindness."
Her eyes lingered on him then, briefly, unfocused. As if considering someone else. Somewhere else.
"Return safely," she said at last. "Your palace is… restless."
Lucien finally turned to her. "So am I."
---
Far away somewhere in the east wing of the castle, Aria stepped back into the shadows as another carriage passed through the castle gates.
The palace lights flickered.
And for the first time since Lucien had left, fear outweighed patience.
Something was coming.
And she had a terrible feeling the king would return to chaos.
The carriage did not creak.
That was the first thing Aria noticed.
It rolled too smoothly across the palace courtyard, its wheels wrapped in enchanted leather, its windows blackened from within. Guards surrounded it in silence no chatter, no laughter, no idle threats. This was not a routine transport.
This was deliberate.
Aria watched from the watch gallery, her breath shallow. Another carriage followed. Then another.
"They're not supplies," Mirelle whispered beside her, pale. "Are they?"
Aria shook her head slowly. "No."
The doors of the first carriage opened just enough for a glimpse inside.
Chains.
Her stomach dropped.
Before she could see more, a sharp voice cut through the night. "You there."
Aria stiffened.
A palace guard approached the gallery stairs, eyes narrowed. Mirelle grabbed Aria's sleeve.
"Go," Mirelle whispered urgently. "I'll distract him."
Before Aria could protest, Mirelle stepped forward, pretending to trip over her skirt, sending a tray clattering loudly across the stone.
The guard cursed and moved toward her.
Aria did not waste the chance.
She slipped away, heart hammering, mind racing. Prisoners. Being moved. Without records.
Someone inside the palace was working against the crown.
---