At Aeloria's castle, the former seat of wealth and power, and home of the aristocracy, the hall established itself not as a centre of the court, but of secrets and suspicion. Elara sat on the throne—not her father's throne, but a temporary seat at the foot of the dais. The symbolism was deliberate. She would not openly confess it until the throne stood firm on its real stability.
In the hall's dampness, her retinue came together, nobles and ladies of noble lineage, generals, and counselors all in attendance. Bael stood to her right, his large mass a silent witness to her determination. All around her, the courtiers fought like barbarians over a dead dog.
"We must fortify the southern borders, barked Lord Durnhold, his booming voice cutting through the murmurs. "The Jade Lotus will not stop with mere assassins."
"And abandon the capital? scoffed Lady Irelia, her sharp features twisted in disdain. "That would invite rebellion. Didn't you forget the Fireborn Dynasty is just an opportunist, waiting for us to make a mistake?
Elara's gaze flicked between them, her expression unreadable. Let them squabble. The more (relative) time, the more she worked out which of them would break and which she could depend on.
At last, she raised a hand, silencing the chamber. The nobles fell quiet, their eyes turning to her.
"We will not weaken our borders," she said firmly. "Nor will we abandon the capital. But, "We will destroy rats from the architecture, etc.
But, Your Highness? asked Lady Irelia, her voice quivering with disrespect. "These assassins move like shadows."
"Then we shine a light on them, Elara replied, rising to her feet. "Aeloria's court will be cleansed. Every advisor, servant, and guard will be questioned. Those who are loyal will have nothing to fear."
"And those who are not?" Lord Durnhold asked.
Elara's voice dropped to an icy edge. "They will answer for their betrayal."
A heavy silence followed. The nobles exchanged wary glances, murmurs beginning again. They understood the implication. Unlike being a point of discussion, loyalty itself would be a point of study and evidence. Criminals and informers no longer require to be feared in court.
Bael stepped forward. "The Princess speaks wisely. We will begin tonight. Trust will be earned, not assumed."
Elara cast the eye of a mouse checking on a tin roofer before letting out a saw of a big grin to Bael in answer to the silent nod passed between them. His support—his loyalty—was as unbreakable as the mountains, and she depended on that steadfastness in such circumstances.
The Red Lantern District
With the palace in turmoil from Elara's pronouncement, the other side of the city hummed a new tale. Within in the Red Lantern District, where rumors were traded as money, shapeshifters would come in and out of the dark with a mission.
The shrouded, indistinct form squeezed through the cramped alleyways and the sound of their feet on the slippery cobblestones infused with melted snow remained unheard. Bending over, just beside him, a translucent humanoid, wearing jadegreen clothing, conjoined its movements.
They hear us, the robed man murmured in a low, nervous tone. "The Princess is no fool. Her net is tightening."
The cloaked figure halted, turning slightly. Beneath the hood, a cruel smile twisted his lips. "Let her tighten it. She's a birds in a cage, acting at a palace," this one explained.
"And if the Silver Fangs come to her aid? You've heard the whispers—they shut her off from our last walkout.
The Fangs are not driven out of the Mountains, but they are confronted, the person said. Varik Stormclaw has his own game, and the Princess has not yet won his blade.
The robed man hesitated. "And the Fireborn? If they—"
"Enough," the figure snapped. "The Princess' resolve means nothing without allies. We will strike again—soon. This time, we'll ensure there's no escape."
Undiagnosed by mankind from the black depths, a single pale cold silver eye blinked before vanishing into the night.
The Palace, Midnight
Elara private areas were surrounded by deepest darkness with the single candle glowing in her desk. Maps and reports littered the surface. Every attack, every breach of trust and the increasing clamor for the destabilising of the political economy. Her mind swam with thoughts of the Jade Lotus. Every shadow turned out to be a living thing, every corridor turns out to be room from which knives cannot be suppressed.
That knock at the door really pulled her from the daze.
"Enter," she said, her voice steady.
Bael stepped inside, his face grim. "We caught one."
Elara stood, her heart thudding. "A spy?"
"A servant. He was arrested for trying to slip a message through at the east gate. He claims innocence, but—" Bael hesitated. "He was carrying this."
He then made a small, rolled parchment, sealed with a black lotus symbol, to her. Elara untied it and her eye traveled along the words the script contained.
'The bird sings, but the cage weakens. Not long ago the rupture of frost and the garden could not be separated.
She crushed the note in her fist. "Take me to him."
The Dungeons
Dungeons of Aeloria were just as ferocious and cruel as the Frostlands. In the shadow of the flickering torchlight, the serf wasowerer, wrists chained with iron. Sweat streaked his face despite the chill, his lips trembling as Elara approached.
"Your Highness," he whimpered, "I swear, I know nothing! I was only following orders—"
"Whose orders?" Elara's voice cut like a blade.
The man shook his head violently. "I don't know! I swear it—I was paid! Just coin, nothing more!"
Elara studied him. It rolled off of him like a steam, but the fear might be a sham. Lies came easily to desperate men.
Bael stepped forward. "Who paid you?"
"I don't know!" the man wailed. "A hooded figure—black cloak, silver mask. I swear it's all I know!"
Elara's gaze narrowed. A silver mask. She'd heard that description before—whispers from guards and informants. In Aeloria, all of the Jade Lotus leaders wore the masks.
She crawled onto her hands and knees to the man's level, voice a comfort but as hard as a block of ice. "If you are lying, your life ends here."
The servant sobbed, shaking his head. "Please… I speak the truth…"
None anymore," Bael shouted, ordering the guards to take the man. Elara rose, her face impassive as she faced Bael.
"Whoever this masked figure is, they grow bolder. The Lotus moves within these walls. Every spy we catch is another clue."
Bael nodded. "We'll search harder. Double the watch."
"No," Elara said. "Not just the watch. Every noble, every servant. We'll flush them out like rats."
Bael studied her for a moment, then nodded again. "As you say, Princess."
And that evening Elara sat alone, in her own chambers, with a gaze toward the snowstorm that swept in through the window. The words of the note echoed in her mind.
'The bird sings, but the cage weakens.'
The Jade Lotus believed she was trapped. They thought they had the upper hand.
They were wrong.
Quietly fuming, Elara's eyes flickered with fury as they murmured into the void, "I am no bird. I am the storm."
Snow fell heavier outside, covering the city in white. Yet something far worse than storms was brewing inside the castle walls themselves, which was to engulf them all.