Katerina's POV
They're going to eat you alive.
Damien's warning doesn't help my nerves as we walk toward the council chamber. I can hear voices inside—loud, confident, male voices discussing war strategy like it's a game.
I can handle myself, I say, trying to sound more certain than I feel.
Can you? He stops just outside the door, turning to face me. His eyes search mine with unsettling intensity. Because if you embarrass me in there, our arrangement ends. Immediately.
My chest tightens. This is a test. He's throwing me to the wolves to see if I survive.
I won't embarrass you, I promise.
He studies me for one more heartbeat, then pushes open the door.
Twelve men sit around a massive table covered in maps and battle reports. Their conversations die the instant they see me.
Gentlemen, Damien says coldly. This is Lady Raven Blackwood, my new advisor on Celestrian affairs.
The silence that follows could cut glass.
Then Lord Cassian—a heavyset man with cruel eyes—laughs. Your advisor? Damien, this is a joke, right? She's a woman. From the Neutral Territories.
The way he says woman makes my blood boil.
She's also standing right here, I say sharply. And perfectly capable of speaking for herself.
Several men snicker. One whispers something to his neighbor that I can't hear but can definitely imagine.
Lady Blackwood, another lord says, his tone dripping with false politeness. What exactly qualifies you to advise on matters of war and diplomacy? Have you studied at a military academy? Served in government?
It's a trap. If I claim formal training, they'll demand proof I don't have. If I admit I haven't, they'll dismiss me completely.
I've survived in the Neutral Territories for three years, I say evenly. That requires more strategic thinking than most military academies teach.
Surviving is not the same as leading, Lord Cassian counters. Prince Damien, with all respect, this is foolishness. We're planning responses to Celestrian aggression. We need someone who understands—
I understand perfectly. I step forward, ignoring Damien's sharp look. You're planning to reinforce the eastern border because that's where the recent attacks have concentrated. But you're making a mistake.
Every eye turns to me.
Excuse me? Lord Cassian's face reddens.
I move to the map, pointing to the eastern border markers. Adrian wants you to reinforce the east. That's why he's attacking there. He's baiting you into pulling troops from the southern trade routes.
That's ridiculous, someone mutters.
Is it? I meet their skeptical gazes. When has Crown Prince Adrian ever been straightforward? He's been planning this for months. The eastern attacks are a distraction. The real threat is here, I tap the southern routes. Where your supply lines are weakest. Cut off your supplies, and it doesn't matter how many soldiers you have on the eastern border. They'll starve.
The room goes silent.
Lord Cassian leans forward. And how exactly would you know Adrian's strategy?
My heart races. I've said too much. Revealed knowledge that Lady Raven shouldn't have.
But I can't back down now.
Because I've studied him, I say carefully. I've made it my business to understand how the major players think. Adrian doesn't attack where he wants to win. He attacks where he wants you to look while he wins somewhere else.
One of the generals, an older man with gray in his beard, nods slowly. She's right. The southern routes have been too quiet lately. That's suspicious in itself.
It's more than suspicious, I continue, gaining confidence. Check your merchant reports from the last month. I'd bet half your regular suppliers have suddenly 'delayed' their shipments. That's not coincidence. Adrian's been buying them off or threatening them.
Damien's eyes narrow. How could you possibly know that?
Because Adrian did the same thing to my mother's kingdom before starting the war three years ago. Because I watched him strangle Celestria's economy while pretending to be a peaceful prince.
Because I'm his sister, and I know exactly how he thinks.
I pay attention, I say instead. Information is currency in the Neutral Territories. You learn to read patterns.
For a long moment, no one speaks. Then the gray-bearded general stands.
Lord Cassian, send scouts to verify the southern supply situation. If Lady Blackwood is correct, we need to know immediately.
Lord Cassian looks like he swallowed something bitter, but he nods.
The meeting continues, and I force myself to stay quiet, to not reveal any more dangerous knowledge. But I catch Damien watching me with an expression I can't read. Impressed? Suspicious?
Both?
When the council finally ends, I head for the door, desperate to escape before someone asks more questions I can't answer.
But Lord Cassian blocks my path.
Lady Blackwood. His smile doesn't reach his eyes. That was quite a performance. Tell me, where did a merchant's daughter learn to think like a royal strategist?
My mouth goes dry. I told you
You told us you pay attention. But there's paying attention, and there's knowing intimate details of Celestrian court politics. He steps closer, and I smell wine on his breath. Who trained you? Who sent you here?
No one sent me
Lord Cassian. Damien's voice cuts like a blade. He appears beside me, his presence suddenly protective. Is there a problem?
Just curious about our new advisor's... qualifications, Cassian says smoothly. Surely you've asked the same questions, Your Highness?
Lady Blackwood's qualifications are my concern, not yours. Damien's tone could freeze fire. And I suggest you learn to respect my advisors, or find yourself reassigned to the northern outposts. Permanently.
Cassian's face pales. He bows stiffly and leaves.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
Thank you, I whisper.
Don't thank me yet. Damien takes my elbow, guiding me down the corridor away from listening ears. His grip is firm but not painful. You were brilliant in there. Too brilliant.
I thought you wanted me to prove myself.
I wanted you to advise, not demonstrate expert knowledge of Celestrian military strategy. He stops walking, turning to face me. His eyes search mine with unnerving intensity. You predicted Adrian's exact tactics. You knew about the supply manipulation. You spoke like someone who's been inside Celestria's war council.
My pulse hammers. I'm just good at reading people
No. He steps closer, so close I can see the gold flecks in his gray eyes. You know too much. The trade routes, the political strategies, even the way you said Adrian's name—like you know him personally.
I can't breathe. Can't think. He's too close, and he's looking at me like he can see through every lie I've ever told.
The merchant family you claim to come from, he continues, his voice dropping lower. I've had people checking. There's no record of any Blackwoods in the Neutral Territories. No merchant licenses, no trade agreements, nothing.
Ice floods my veins. That's because
Because you're lying. It's not a question. His hand moves to my arm, not quite gripping but close. You've been lying since the moment you walked into my palace.
My heart races so fast I think it might explode. This is it. This is where everything falls apart.
I need to know who you really are, Raven. His voice is rough, almost desperate. Because everything about you feels familiar. The way you move, the way you argue with me, even the way you stand when you're trying to be brave but you're actually terrified.
Tears burn behind my eyes. He's so close to the truth. So close to seeing through the disguise to the girl he killed three years ago.
You remind me of her, he whispers, and there's so much pain in his voice. My wife. And I don't know if that's coincidence or if you're deliberately
He stops himself, jaw clenching.
Deliberately what? I challenge, even though my voice shakes.
His eyes lock onto mine, and the intensity there steals my breath.
You know too much about Celestria for a Neutral Territories merchant's daughter, he says quietly. Dangerously. So I'll ask you one more time, and I want the truth.
He leans in close enough that I can feel his breath on my face.
Who are you really?