–
The scream tore through the palace before the bells could.
Elara was in the west wing, reviewing grain tariffs with Lucien, when the sound reached her—raw, panicked, unmistakably human. A heartbeat later, the alarm bells rang out, their iron tongues clanging against the stone silence.
"Fire," a guard shouted, bursting through the doors. "Eastern wing!"
Elara was already moving.
---
Smoke curled like serpents through the marble corridors. Servants ran with buckets, guards shouted orders, and the scent of burning parchment and silk filled the air. Elara's slippers slid on the polished floor as she reached the eastern wing, Kael at her side, his sword drawn though there was no enemy in sight.
Flames licked at the tapestries, devouring history. The library annex—where the archives of the Sovereign Assembly were kept—was ablaze.
"Get the ledgers!" Elara cried. "The treaties!"
Kael pulled her back as a beam cracked overhead.
"Lyria!"
She stumbled, coughing, eyes watering.
And then—just as suddenly—the fire was contained. Buckets, spells, sand. The eastern wing was scorched, but not lost.
Not yet.
---
Hours later, the palace was quiet again.
Too quiet.
Elara stood in the ruins of the annex, ash clinging to her gown. The treaties were gone. The Valean trade scrolls—gone. The minutes from the last Assembly session—gone.
Kael approached, his face grim.
"It wasn't an accident," he said.
Elara didn't need confirmation.
She already knew.
---
That night, in their chamber, the silence between them was heavier than smoke.
"You should have let me go in," Kael said.
Elara turned. "I'm the queen."
"You're my wife."
She flinched.
Kael stepped closer. "You think I don't see it? The way you carry everything alone?"
Elara's voice was brittle. "Because I have to."
Kael's jaw tightened. "No. You choose to."
She looked away.
He didn't stop.
"You don't trust me."
"I do."
"Then why do you keep shutting me out?"
Elara's breath caught. "Because if I fall, I need to know you'll still be standing."
Kael's voice broke. "I would burn for you."
She turned.
And kissed him.
But it tasted like ash.
---
The next morning, Lord Renar stood in the council chamber, untouched by smoke.
"I propose a temporary restructuring of the Assembly," he said. "Until the archives are restored."
Lucien frowned. "You mean a power shift."
Renar smiled. "I mean stability."
Elara's gaze was ice. "And who would lead this 'stability'?"
Renar bowed. "You, of course. With Vale's guidance."
Kael's hand twitched near his sword.
Elara spoke slowly. "We'll consider it."
Renar nodded. "Time is a luxury we may not have."
---
Later, Elara found a note tucked beneath her goblet.
No seal.
No signature.
Just a line:
> "The fire was a message. The next will be a reckoning."
She folded it.
And didn't speak.
---
In the garden, Kael waited.
She joined him, silent.
He didn't look at her.
"I'm afraid," he said.
She blinked. "Of what?"
"That I'll lose you to the crown."
Elara's voice was soft. "You won't."
Kael turned. "Then let me fight beside you."
She nodded.
And for the first time in days, the air felt clean.
---
That night, Renar met with Councilor Vess in the shadows of the east wall.
Elara watched from the balcony above.
She couldn't hear the words.
But she saw the coin exchanged.
And the nod.
And the smile.
---
The confrontation was not planned.
Elara found Councilor Vess in the east corridor, his robes still faintly scented with smoke. He bowed, too quickly.
"Your Majesty."
She didn't return the gesture.
"I saw you," she said. "With Renar. After the fire."
Vess paled. "A coincidence."
Elara stepped closer. "Don't insult me."
He swallowed. "He asked for a conversation. I obliged."
Elara's voice was ice. "You exchanged coin."
Vess hesitated. "A token of goodwill."
Elara leaned in. "You're playing a game you don't understand."
Vess bowed again, lower this time. "Forgive me."
She didn't.
---
The Sovereign Assembly met in fractured silence.
The fire had scorched more than stone. Trust was brittle. Alliances frayed.
Renar stood, calm as ever.
"We must rebuild," he said. "Together."
Elara watched him.
Kael sat beside her, his hand near hers but not touching.
Lucien spoke. "We need transparency."
Renar smiled. "And unity."
Elara's voice cut through. "Then let's begin with truth."
No one moved.
---
That night, Elara returned to her study.
The door was ajar.
She froze.
Inside, the candles were lit.
And on her desk—a mask.
Porcelain. White. Expressionless.
Beside it, a note.
> "You see the mirror. But not the face behind it."
Elara didn't touch it.
She called for Kael.
He arrived in seconds.
His eyes narrowed. "Who was here?"
Elara shook her head. "I don't know."
Kael stepped forward. "This is a warning."
Elara nodded. "Or an invitation."
---
Later, in their chamber, Kael sat on the edge of the bed.
Elara joined him.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Kael looked at her. "For what?"
"For pushing you away."
He took her hand. "You carry too much."
She leaned into him. "I don't want to lose you."
"You won't."
But she was still worried, All the fights happening now was completely different from the original novel she had wrote,so she was completely lost, unlike in the beginning when she had entered the novel she knew the faith of Lyria and could prevent anything happening to her, but as the novel began to change and re write itself so did her fear began to grow.
They kissed.
And this time, it tasted like hope.
---
In the morning, the mask was gone.
No one had entered.
No one had seen.
But the message remained.
And Elara knew—
Someone else had joined the game.
---
The next morning, The arrow missed her throat by inches.
Elara didn't flinch.
She stood on the marble dais, the crowd frozen in horror, the air thick with silence. Guards surged forward. Kael was already moving, sword drawn, eyes scanning the rooftops.
The second arrow struck the banner behind her.
Then nothing.
Just smoke.
And fear.
---
They cleared the square in minutes.
Elara was unharmed.
But trust was not.
---
In the war chamber, Kael paced.
"You should have canceled the address," he said.
Elara sat, calm. "That would've shown weakness."
Kael turned. "You nearly died."
Elara's voice was quiet. "But I didn't."
Kael slammed his hand against the table. "You don't get to gamble with your life."
She rose. "I'm not gambling. I'm ruling."
Kael's voice cracked. "And I'm losing you."
Elara froze.
Kael stepped closer. "You don't let me in. You don't tell me what you see. What you fear. one minute you tell me,your sorry for pushing me away and the next minute you do just that. "
She looked away. "Because I fear losing you."
Kael's breath caught.
They stood in silence.
Then he kissed her.
Hard.
Desperate.
Real.
---
Later, Elara found a note in her study.
No seal.
No signature.
> "The arrow was a whisper. The next will be a scream."
She burned it.
---
Renar requested an audience.
He arrived with a scroll.
"Vale proposes a joint intelligence task force," he said. "To root out threats."
Elara's eyes narrowed. "You mean control information."
Renar smiled. "You say control. I say clarity."
Kael stood behind her, silent.
Elara spoke slowly. "We'll consider it."
Renar bowed. "Time is a luxury we may not have."
---
That night, Kael sat beside her in the garden.
"I don't want to fight you," he said.
Elara leaned into him. "Then fight with me."
He kissed her.
And this time, it felt like a promise.
---
In the morning, a new mask appeared on her desk.
Porcelain.
White.
Expressionless.
Beside it, a single line:
> "The mirror cracks. The game begins."
Elara folded the note.
And didn't speak.
---