The embassy walls felt colder that morning, holding a kind of stillness that precedes dangerous conversations. Lysandra dressed in formal state robes—deep Valenfirth blue edged with silver—while Serene fixed the clasp at her shoulder with meticulous care.
"The Union council will try to corner you," Serene murmured.
"They may try," Lysandra replied, "but they will not succeed."
Daren waited outside the chamber, already wearing the black-and-steel uniform of Valenfirth's royal guard. When she stepped out, his posture straightened.
"Ready, Your Majesty?"
Lysandra nodded.
The entourage—Lysandra, Daren, Serene, Rhedon, and two scribes—set out for the Union Hall.
The hearing would be contentious. Asterfell had demanded "clarification" regarding the assassination attempt, twisting the narrative to imply they had been framed. The council had granted the hearing with unusual haste—too much haste.
Mavren's influence was already reaching places it shouldn't.
THE UNION COUNCIL HEARING
The Union Hall towered above the diplomatic quarter, a domed structure of pale stone and carved pillars. Inside, the main chamber was circular, with raised tiers for each kingdom's representatives.
As Lysandra entered, conversations dampened into uneasy silence.
The presiding Arbiter—an elderly man named Yhull Rasten—struck his staff.
"The Council recognizes Her Majesty Lysandra Arvella of Valenfirth… and King Mavren of Asterfell."
Mavren rose slowly from his seat. Dressed in white and gold, he radiated smug confidence. His entourage smirked behind him.
"Your Majesty," he said with a mocking bow, "may we finally uncover the truth behind these inflammatory accusations?"
Lysandra remained standing. "The truth needs no theatrics, King Mavren."
Several councilors exchanged glances.
The Arbiter raised a hand. "Proceed."
Mavren Presents First
Mavren's envoy stepped forward with an exaggerated display of grief.
"Esteemed council, we come here seeking peace. Yet Valenfirth has accused Asterfell of attempted regicide—without evidence."
Asterfell officers carried forward two sealed documents.
"These letters," the envoy continued, "show the Empress herself instructing her captains to fabricate claims of Asterfell aggression. We submit them as evidence."
Murmurs rippled across the chamber.
Lysandra did not move, but Daren felt the tension in her shoulders.
Because those letters were hers—private communications written days before the attack. And she had never sent them outside her palace.
A leak. A betrayal from inside Valenfirth's own walls.
The Arbiter looked at Lysandra. "Your response?"
Lysandra stepped forward, her voice steady.
"The documents are real," she said matter-of-factly.
The chamber gasped.
"But their interpretation is false. The letters were contingency instructions—measures of caution during a time of rising hostility. Nowhere do they accuse Asterfell without evidence."
Mavren smiled thinly. "And yet those letters reached my diplomats before even your own Council."
"That," Lysandra said, "is evidence of infiltration or theft. Not guilt."
The Arbiter frowned. "Do you have proof of this?"
"No," she replied. "Not yet."
But the conviction in her tone carried weight.
Asterfell Pushes Harder
Mavren rose again.
"Your Majesty, if Valenfirth has nothing to hide, then why refuse an independent investigation into your palace affairs?"
Lysandra spoke before he finished.
"Because Valenfirth is sovereign. We do not let foreign agents rummage through our halls under the guise of diplomacy."
Half the chamber murmured agreement. The other half whispered unease.
A councilor from the desert state of Velnor leaned forward.
"King Mavren, is it true your troops mobilized along the eastern border three days ago?"
Asterfell's envoy stiffened. "Routine drills."
Another councilor scoffed. "Four battalions? That is not a drill."
Pressure shifted—slightly, but noticeably.
Mavren's jaw clenched.
Lysandra seized the moment.
"Asterfell's sudden 'concern' for peace seems conveniently timed," she said. "Perhaps we should instead question why their soldiers stand a day's march from our villages."
Eyes sharpened toward Mavren.
The Arbiter raised a hand. "Enough. The council recognizes the need for fairness. We do not find evidence to punish Valenfirth."
Asterfell's envoy bristled.
"But," the Arbiter continued, "we also do not find grounds for full censure against Asterfell."
Mavren smirked.
"A warning will be issued to both kingdoms. De-escalate. Maintain diplomacy. This hearing is now adjourned."
His gavel struck.
Daren leaned toward Lysandra. "That was lighter on him than expected."
"It's the Union," she whispered. "They balance compromise like a blade."
Still—
The leak haunted every step as they left the chamber.
RETURN TO THE EMBASSY
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the embassy courtyard when they arrived. Aira Thorne and Zelda Marquette were already waiting inside the main hall—dust-covered from travel, posture straight despite exhaustion.
Their arrival would have been uplifting under different circumstances.
But today, the weight of the hearing shadowed everything.
When they saluted, Lysandra acknowledged them immediately.
"Captain Aira. Scholar Zelda. Your return is well-timed."
Aira bowed. "Your Majesty. We heard whispers about the council hearing on our way through the quarter."
Zelda added, "The rumors are moving fast, even outside the Hall."
Lysandra gestured for them to follow her into the secure council chamber.
THE SHADOW MEETING
Chairs scraped softly as everyone took their seats around the crescent table.
Lysandra remained standing.
"We begin with a single truth," she said. "The council hearing revealed more than it resolved. Asterfell has eyes inside our court."
A heavy silence answered her.
Daren stepped forward. "We found inconsistencies in the guard schedule the night before the attack. A forged reassignment order removed Officer Halden from post."
Aira's eyes widened. "Halden would never abandon station."
"He didn't," Rhedon said. "Someone made it look like he did."
Zelda leaned in. "Which means someone with access to internal seals—documents, logs, signature plates."
"Someone trusted," Serene murmured.
The realization tasted bitter.
Lysandra exhaled slowly. "We proceed carefully. Quietly. Until we know who the traitor is."
Daren added, "And the letters leaked to the council… that traitor is bold. And close."
Aira straightened. "If Your Majesty permits, I'll re-examine the clerk rotations from the past month."
Zelda raised her hand. "I'll handle diplomatic containment. If we don't counter Asterfell's narrative within days, smaller states will drift toward neutrality or—worse—Mavren's side."
Serene flipped open her notes. "The merchant guilds too. They're already uneasy."
Rhedon added, "And we must strengthen border readiness. Quiet preparations. No troop movement unless commanded."
Lysandra nodded. "Make arrangements."
She paused. Then added, softer:
"And none of this leaves this room."
Everyone bowed.
AFTER THE COUNCIL LEAVES
One by one the others departed—Aira, Zelda, Rhedon, Serene—until only Daren remained with her.
They stood near the window overlooking the dimming courtyard.
"You fought well today," Daren said.
Lysandra didn't answer at first.
"The letters… seeing them held up in that hall…"
She closed her eyes briefly. "Someone is playing a long, deliberate game."
Daren stepped closer—not enough to break decorum, but enough that she felt the steadiness of him.
"We will find them," he said.
Lysandra looked up at him, the weight of the day finally showing in her eyes.
"Stay close tonight," she whispered.
Daren's voice softened. "Always."
She turned toward her chambers. He accompanied her to the door.
Only when she had entered safely did he allow himself to breathe.
Because the hearing had changed everything.
Asterfell had made its move.
Now Valenfirth had to survive it.