Her chambers were modest but high up in the eastern wing - close enough to the war room , yet far from the noble's suites . It was a political placement , one she understood instantly : important but not visible . Trusted but not welcomed .
Just as well .
She unpacked her quills , inks and cipher scrolls in silence . Her fingers paused briefly on one worn volume - Histories of the Silver Age , a gift from her late mentor .
Then a knock .
A guard . " The Crown Prince requests you in the strategy room . Now ."
Elira is breath caught .
The room was dim when she entered . War maps unfurled across the table , lit by golden oil lamps . Caelum stood with his back to her , hands behind him , shoulders tense .
He did not turn .
" Read the courier is report ," he said , voice clipped . " There are lies hidden between the lines . I want them rooted out ."
Elira stepped forward , took the scroll . She read fast , eye scanning the coded language , the rhythms of over formality meant to decisive .
She spoke before thinking . " They are
stalling ."
Caelum turned .
" Elaborate ," he said .
She met his gaze . " The envoy from Vaskel . He pads his words with empty praise . Always four sentences between every request . He is hiding something . Likely their movements near the eastern border ."
He stepped closer . Close enough that she could see the thin scar just beneath his left eye .
" Clever ," he said . " Most would miss that ."
" I am not most ."
His eyes stayed on her . " No . You are not ."
And then , without a word more , he handed her another scroll .
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