One Day Before Princess Astrid's Arrival
"Do you understand what I just said?" Lyra commanded firmly, her piercing gaze fixed on the four young maids standing before her. They bowed their heads, nodding in unison.
Another maid hurried in, bowing apologetically. "Please forgive my tardiness, Your Highness. I was out running errands."
Lyra's tone softened. "It's all right. Join the others and follow their instructions. If you notice anything suspicious, report it to me immediately."
"Yes, Your Highness," the maid replied, though her face twisted in confusion. She turned to her colleagues. "Suspicious?"
One maid whispered back, "Her Highness ordered that nothing from Duke and Duchess Nabal should come near His Majesty—food, gifts, nothing. If they send anything, it's to be discarded immediately."
"I knew those two were up to no good!" another added. "Our Crown Princess is so perceptive. She'll protect the King no matter what!"
Lyra, meanwhile, paced her chambers, her mind swirling with questions about the black magic curse afflicting her father. The source had to be uncovered.
Not long after her orders were issued, a maid burst into the room, her face pale. "Your Highness! His Majesty was nearly poisoned!"
"What? Explain!" Lyra demanded, rising from her seat alongside Solon and Delilah.
As they hurried through the palace corridors, the maid recounted the events. "The Duke and Duchess sent tea for the King. Per your orders, we were set to dispose of it, but Duchess Medea insisted it was for His Majesty's health. We swapped the tea and discarded the one from the Duchess. Later, a stray dog licked the discarded tea and began coughing blood. We've sent the dog to the vet and kept the tea powder for examination."
Lyra hugged the maid, surprising everyone. "Thank you for your vigilance," she said earnestly. Turning to Solon, her expression hardened. "Take the powder to Gayle immediately."
As Solon departed, Lyra made her way toward the King's quarters. Passing through the quiet inner corridors, she paused at the sound of whispers. Following the voices, she stumbled upon Medea, Hubris, Karen, and Wily, their conversation dripping with malice.
"We can't let her turn twenty-two," Karen hissed. "We need to act before then."
Medea's voice was calm but cunning. "Dylan has shown interest in marrying her. If she marries and leaves Helios, our problem solves itself."
"Or we could use poison," Karen sneered. "Anthrax, perhaps? It's slow and incurable. We could slip it into her food, clothing—anything."
Lyra had heard enough. Stepping into view, her voice cut through their scheming. "Put what in whose shoes?"
The conspirators froze. Medea quickly recovered, sneering. "Were you eavesdropping? That's unbecoming of a future queen."
Lyra's sarcasm was sharp. "Funny, coming from someone plotting treason against the royal family. How exactly do you plan to kill me and my sister?"
Feigning innocence, Medea scoffed. "We have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're all pathetic liars," Lyra spat.
"What did you just say?" Medea snapped, her voice rising.
"You heard me," Lyra shot back. "And don't think you'll get away with insulting the Crown Princess."
The argument escalated, their voices echoing down the halls until Medea screamed, "You're nothing but a delusional girl clinging to her title! I raised you after your pathetic mother abandoned you!"
Lyra's composure snapped. She slapped Medea hard, grabbing her collar. "Say that again. Did you just admit to killing my mother?"
Before Medea could retaliate, King Derek's commanding voice boomed, silencing everyone. "What is the meaning of this?"
Lyra stepped forward. "Father—"
"Enough!" the King interrupted. "I don't want explanations. I want to know who started this."
"She did," Medea claimed, with Karen chiming in to corroborate.
Lyra's protests fell on deaf ears as the King demanded, "Apologize to your aunt. Now."
Upon the King's demand, Lyra nibbled her lip nervously while Medea and the others waited with smug expressions, expecting her to speak.
Before she could utter a word, Mika and Vile stepped forward.
"Your Majesty, pardon our intrusion, but Crown Princess Lyra is not to blame," Mika began. "Duchess Medea was slandering the former Queen and even claimed to have poisoned you both."
"What?"
Derek's sharp gaze shifted to Medea, who merely shrugged.
"I have no idea what they're talking about," she said dismissively. "Of course, these two would take Lyra's side. They are her knights, after all."
"Even if we weren't," Vile said firmly, "we swore on our honor as knights regarding what we heard."
Medea's composure cracked. "You bastards! To lie so brazenly—are you insane?"
"With all due respect," Mika replied, his tone unwavering, "we are not lying. We are simply reporting what we witnessed."
"You ought to be punished for your insolence!"
"Enough!" Derek's voice cut through the escalating argument.
The tension in the room thickened as he continued, "We will address this matter later. For now, Lyra should apologize for her behavior."
Medea smirked triumphantly as Lyra muttered a barely audible "sorry" before turning and marching out of the room. Mika and Vile followed close behind.
As Derek's cold glare fell on Medea, he said curtly, "Do not think my silence means I am unaware of what's going on. Be mindful not to overstep your bounds."
Medea's expression hardened, but before she could respond, Derek walked away.
Hubris, who had watched everything in silence, ran after Lyra as she stormed down the hall.
"Lyra, wait!"
She didn't stop. Instead, she quickened her pace, pretending he didn't exist.
"Are you okay?" Hubris asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.
It was the first time Lyra had ever heard him speak to her with such care, and it only disgusted her.
When she didn't respond, he continued, "I apologize on behalf of my mother. They were wrong. I promise I won't let them harm you again."
Still, Lyra said nothing.
"I know my behavior may seem strange," Hubris pressed on. "But after that night in jail, I realized who my real enemies are. I was blinded by their greed before. Lyra, I—"
Lyra abruptly sped up, cutting him off. Her mind raced with thoughts of her father's reaction and the humiliating scene Medea orchestrated. The possibility that Medea had murdered her mother, whom she had believed died accidentally, consumed her.
"Lyra, are you mad at me?" Hubris asked, trying to keep up.
When Lyra reached the King's chambers, he stepped forward to open the door for her. Instead, she snatched the handle from him and glared.
"Get lost," she spat before slamming the door in his face.
Inside, Derek was seated on the sofa when Lyra stormed in.
"What was that?" she demanded, her voice trembling with anger.
"What was what?" Derek replied calmly.
"You knew Medea was wrong! Why did you side with her?"
"It's easier to diffuse the situation quickly," he explained. "Medea always makes a scene."
Lyra scoffed. "That's your excuse? So, we're just going to let her do whatever she wants because she throws tantrums? What happens when she sets her sights on the throne? Will you hand it over to her for the sake of convenience?"
Her words stung, but Derek didn't reply.
"You have no self-respect," Lyra snapped before storming out.
As she marched back to her chambers, her anger solidified into determination. Medea had gone too far. Lyra vowed to make her pay for everything she'd done—and beg for forgiveness.
Lyra entered her office, brushing off Solon's concerned questions.
"Gather everyone," she ordered.
"Everyone?"
"All my allies—Duke Atlas, Duke Wren, Count Edwin, Viscount Vile, Count Javis, Count Hildred, Baron Ford, and the council's other five members. Bring them through the secret door. Now."
Solon nodded and hurried to carry out her orders as Lyra began drafting a message for the meeting: It's time to step up.
Astrid, who had overheard the earlier commotion, burst into Lyra's office, her face pale with worry.
"Lyra! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Lyra replied curtly, gathering her files.
"Are you really going to fight back?" Astrid asked, her voice trembling.
"Yes."
"But it's dangerous! You should be trying to protect yourself, not provoke her!"
"I'll handle it," Lyra said dismissively, brushing past her sister.
Astrid grabbed her by the shoulders. "We're leaving for Helios tomorrow. Forget this for now. We'll be safe there. Please, Lyra, don't take any more risks."
Lyra met Astrid's worried gaze and nodded slightly, though her resolve hadn't wavered.
The next morning, Astrid sat alone in the carriage bound for Helios.
She should have known. Lyra was not one to let things go.
As the carriage began to move, Astrid called out for the driver to stop, demanding they wait for her sister. But her protests were ignored. Instead, she was handed two letters—one for her and one for Dylan.
Frantically, she tore open the letter addressed to her.
"𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮, 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻. 𝓜𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓿𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓾𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼.
𝓘 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓸 𝓭𝓸 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮. 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓰𝓸. 𝓦𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝔂 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓬𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝔀𝓪𝔂. 𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓪𝓬𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝔀𝓪𝔂? 𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝓭𝓲𝓭 𝔀𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓮𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓯 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓫𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮?
𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮. 𝓦𝓮 𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓲𝓯 𝔀𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸. 𝓘 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻. 𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓹𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓪𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝔀𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓭 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓵𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼.
𝓘 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮. 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀, 𝓱𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮. 𝓟𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝔂 𝓪𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮. 𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮."
The next evening, during the secret meeting, everyone gathered in a small, run-down, abandoned school. Despite its dilapidated state, the building technically belonged to Lyra as part of her personal property. She had preserved it as it was, having built a newer, better school nearby.
The guests arrived, their expressions a blend of suspicion and curiosity, much like a cat's or even a newborn's, eagerly anticipating the reason behind their summoning. Lyra, however, remained composed, waiting patiently until everyone had assembled before making her entrance.
The room they sat in was modest and functional, but to the distinguished crowd present, it seemed markedly beneath their status—a stark contrast that only heightened the tension in the air.
"Is everything all right, Your Highness?" Duke Atlas finally broke the silence, voicing the question that lingered on everyone's mind.
Lyra nodded solemnly. "For now, yes. But soon, it won't be." She paused, her voice steady but resolute. "As you all know, I am approaching the age of my crowning. Let me be frank: Duke Nabal has been taking over my father's duties, and Duchess Medea intends to keep it that way, maneuvering to ensure her eldest son becomes the next King. This is no secret—I expect you all are aware of this?"
A ripple of silence passed through the room as the guests subtly nodded, confirming her suspicions.
Lyra's gaze sharpened. "I will not let that happen. Not in this lifetime. I have remained silent until now, not because I was forced to, but because I chose to run. I am ashamed to admit this, but I once thought of abdicating the throne altogether. However, I can no longer turn my back on my responsibilities. There are reasons for this."
She took a deep breath before continuing. "First, some of you may not know the name 'Miss Belle,' but let me make it clear: that person is me."
Gasps escaped from a few as others exchanged startled glances. Though some had suspected, her open confession still came as a shock.
Anticipating their reactions, Lyra pressed on. "After my mother passed, I felt suffocated within the palace walls. I began sneaking out for fresh air, and one thing led to another. I saw how much the people were suffering. The guilt overwhelmed me, so I began helping them—thus, the rumors of Miss Belle were born."
Her voice grew heavier. "The second reason is far graver. I believe my mother was murdered. Moreover, my father's illness is not natural. I have evidence that his condition was deliberately caused. And while I don't think I need to name names, I'm certain you all understand who is responsible."
The room erupted in murmurs, the weight of her revelations crashing down on the attendees. Shocked, they clamored for more details, but Lyra raised a hand to silence them.
"I am handling it," she assured them. "When the time comes, I will share everything. For now, our focus must be on Duchess Medea. She is the largest obstacle in my path to the throne. While I trust the people in this room, I must be clear: if any word of what was discussed here tonight leaks, leaving this meeting will be the last decision you make."
Her lips curved into a faint, almost dangerous smile. "I'll give you five minutes to decide where your loyalties lie. Those who wish to remain neutral may leave now."
With that, Lyra stepped out of the room. Solon, her trusted aide, stood by her side, noting the shift in her demeanor.
"Pray tell me," she asked, glancing at him anxiously. "Did I seem confident? Were my words convincing enough? Well, I'm sure they were, but still…"
Solon chuckled softly, catching her off guard. "You were perfect, Your Highness."
Lyra pouted. "Don't laugh at me! I'm asking for serious feedback."
"You were perfect," he repeated, more earnestly this time.
She smiled faintly. "There is no such thing as perfection, but I'll take the compliment. Thank you."
Checking his pocket watch, Solon added, "There's still half a minute left."
Lyra laughed lightly. "By the time I step back in, half a minute will have passed."
She opened the door and walked back into the room, her expression once again composed and regal. The chatter ceased immediately as every pair of eyes turned toward her. As expected, no one had left.
"Since you all remain, I take it you have chosen to side with me. Thank you for your trust and loyalty," she said firmly.
"Your Highness, it is we who should thank you," one noble replied. "Please tell us the next steps."
"Should we strike now? Eliminate them all?" someone else suggested heatedly.
"How dare they murder our Queen and poison our King?" another added.
Lyra raised a hand to calm the room. "All in due time. First, we must strip the feathers from the bird so it cannot fly." She smirked at her own metaphor. "Let us start with Wily."
Duke Atlas spoke up. "Why go after the ducklings when we can target the whole duck?"
Lyra nodded. "Exactly. Duchess Medea is our primary focus. But for now, we need to gather every piece of information about her. Her allies, her assets, her movements—everything she holds dear. Baron Ford, Count Hildred, and the rest of you, I entrust this task to you. Can I count on you?"
The named individuals bowed. "Your order is our command."
As they departed, a meek voice broke the silence. "Your Highness, may I make a suggestion?"
Lyra gestured for the councilwoman to speak.
"It may be a bit petty, but Duchess Medea's birthday party is coming up soon," Lady Helen remarked.
"Ah, right. I'd forgotten about that," Lyra replied casually.
Duke Axel frowned. "What does her birthday party have to do with anything?"
Lady Helen smirked. "As we all know, one thing Duchess Medea craves is attention. She ensures everyone is sent a list of specific gifts to present during her party, just so she can feign surprise at their extravagance. Additionally, no one is allowed to wear the same color as her, and everyone must dress modestly to avoid outshining her or her daughter."
"True enough," Axel said. "But what exactly are you suggesting?"
"We take the spotlight away from her. This will be just a taste of the humiliation she inflicts on others," Helen said with a hint of glee.
"I like the way you think," Lyra said approvingly. "Good. Tell me what you have in mind."
Helen's eyes sparkled. "The main highlight of her party is the gifts she receives. We can disrupt that."
Lyra fell silent, deep in thought. After a moment, an idea struck her. "Get me a list of the people in her faction who present gifts, focusing on those in the middle ranks. Most of them are likely traders or businessmen, aren't they?"
"You're right," Helen confirmed.
"Contact them," Lyra instructed. "Tell them they must present me with the gift she expects from me. Helen, I'll assign you to oversee this. Find out who belongs to the middle faction and report back. Take as much help as you need."
Helen nodded. "I'll need the support of the other council members and board leaders."
Lyra glanced at the people in question, who all nodded their approval.
"Good. Now, we need to convince these nobles," she continued.
"They won't cooperate, Your Highness," Solon interjected. "They're loyal to her."
"No, they're loyal to the wealth and status they gain from her," Lyra countered. "With the stricter tax regulations I recently imposed, they're already feeling the pinch. They'll agree to anything that eases their burden."
"What should we offer them?" Helen asked.
"Start by proposing a 3% tax reduction. If they resist, raise it to 5%. Note their reactions carefully. If necessary, go as high as 7%," Lyra said firmly.
"Is that even legal?" one council member questioned.
"It's a calculated risk," Lyra replied. "I won't let them evade taxes entirely. In exchange for their cooperation, they'll provide unpaid labor for our construction projects, including the bridge connecting Anemoi to Helios. In return, we'll adjust their taxes by up to 13%."
"Technically, it won't be unpaid," Solon added. "The labor will count as payment toward their taxes."
"Exactly," Lyra agreed. "Duke Axel and Viscount Vile, you'll handle this. Monitor their actions closely."
"Understood," Axel replied.
"What can I do to assist?" Duke Atlas offered.
"For now, focus on Hubris," Lyra instructed. "Let him act freely, even if it's illegal, but keep me informed. Also, with Count Javis, track down anyone who has taken bribes from Aunt Medea. Target only those directly tied to her for now. You may enlist Axel and Vile if needed."
"Understood," Atlas affirmed.
"There's one more task," Lyra added. "I'll soon be officially named second-in-command. To solidify public support, we must revive the abandoned complaint center my father established. Renovate it into an open space with a roof, seating for the elderly, and accommodations for pregnant women. I'll sit there personally from 7 a.m. to noon to address complaints. It will operate 24/7, and I'll need daily reports. Select reliable staff to manage this."
The council members nodded their agreement.
"Good. That's all for now," Lyra concluded. "Keep this strictly confidential."
As the others began to leave, Lyra called out, "Uncle Javis, a word, please."
Javis, her maternal uncle, stayed behind. "What is it, dear?"
"As you've probably noticed, Father has been wary of you," Lyra said.
Javis chuckled. "Oh, he's always been like that. Ever since I opposed his marriage to your mother, he's seen me as untrustworthy."
"And why did you disapprove of their marriage?" Lyra asked with a curious smile.
"Your parents were opposites," Javis explained. "Your father, forged in war, embodies distrust and aggression. Your mother, raised in luxury, was the epitome of grace and naivety. Their union seemed doomed."
Lyra chuckled softly. "It amazes me they made it work. Anyway, I have a favor to ask."
"Anything, dear," Javis replied warmly.
"I need trustworthy maids and staff. The previous ones were spies for Aunt Medea, so I dismissed them."
"How many do you need?"
"For now, 26 maids, 13 helpers, 3 gardeners, 2 chefs, and 5 kitchen staff. Plus, I have 7 personal knights."
"That's far too few for a crown princess." Javis protested.
"The fewer, the better. It reduces the risk of betrayal," Lyra insisted.
"Very well. They'll be at your service by morning," Javis promised.
"Thank you, Uncle," Lyra said gratefully.
"Always, my dear," Javis said with a fond smile.