Night had fallen over the palace, and Argider sat perched on her bed, gnawing on her nails like a squirrel working through a tough nut.
Who in this gilded labyrinth of scheming sycophants could she possibly trust?
Every time she thought she'd found an ally, the universe smacked her with a "surprise!"
Uzak? Oh, he wasn't just Esmeralda's loyal retainer; turns out he was her actual dog in human form.
Faeralys? Probably bipolar, which was fine, but also incredibly inconvenient when she needed consistency.
Callista? Off. No other way to put it.
And sure, the nobles' approval was slowly thawing, but beneath their polite nods and awkward compliments was a simmering hatred she could practically taste.
And announcing her intentions with magic? If anyone caught wind that she was dabbling in that, it wouldn't just be a scandal. It would be a war.
The endless parade of fake smiles and obligatory "yes, my lieges" would bury her alive.
