CHAPTER 305: A MEETING

Her private chamber?

I couldn’t believe my ears for a second. My feet froze in place even as my head tilted slightly, as if I hadn’t heard right.

The Queen summoning me into her private chambers? That was an honor nobles begged for and rarely received, a breach of the usual rigid formalities. But my disbelief quickly curled into something sassier—what game was she playing, dragging me into the very heart of her sanctum?

Around me, murmurs rippled through the nobles who lingered in the inner court. They hadn’t bothered to cloak their voices with magic; perhaps they thought I was too flustered to notice. But my ears were sharp, sharper than they credited me for.

"She dares to receive a girl like her in the private chambers? The Queen must be losing her mind."

"A sign of weakness. A dangerous weakness."

"Or favoritism. That upstart hasn’t earned it. What does she have that we don’t?"

"She has Raul, that’s what." A snicker followed. "And you know what that means. The Queen intends to make her family."

My jaw tightened, though outwardly I smiled faintly, letting the words glide over me as though harmless. They weren’t harmless. They were poisoned darts laced with envy, fear, and contempt. But instead of piercing, they only hardened me.

I straightened my back, lifted my chin, and let my gaze sweep across them with cool indifference.

Their whispers grew louder as I passed. I could feel their eyes crawling over me, dissecting me, reducing me into nothing more than speculation and insult.

"Arrogant little witch. Look at the way she walks—like she owns the marble she steps on."

"Mark my words, she won’t last long in this palace. The Queen will regret this folly."

I let them enjoy their bravado—until I had enough. Without turning my head, without breaking my proud stride, I let a thin thread of magic slip from my fingertips, invisible, sharp, and precise.

It wound its way across the floor like a snake, tripping the ankles of three nobles who had gotten too bold, their voices rising too brazenly.

They stumbled in unison, sprawling face-first onto the polished marble with a chorus of startled yelps.

The room stilled. Eyes widened. Gasps rose.

I didn’t pause. I didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. I walked on, regal, unbothered, a faint smile touching the corners of my lips as though the entire thing had been beneath my notice.

When a few of them recovered and dared to approach me, their hands lifting with spells already simmering at their fingertips, I was ready. My shield snapped up around me, silent and seamless, a dome of shimmering force they couldn’t penetrate even with their strongest pushes.

Their magic hit it and fizzled into nothing, leaving them frustrated, teeth clenched, and their pride bruised.

They couldn’t reach me.

Their stares followed me, brimming with anger, confusion, and reluctant awe. My smile widened as I let my eyes slide lazily across them, daring them to try again.

None did.

The idiots.

–

The guard, who showed no indication that he had seen anything, led me onward, out of the courts and into the winding compound that stretched toward the Queen’s residence.

Morning light filtered through high archways, soft and golden, chasing away the last traces of night. The air here was hushed, quieter than the courts behind us, as though even the stones knew they were drawing near to the Queen’s domain.

The pathways were lined with manicured gardens—hedges trimmed to perfect symmetry, blossoms of rare flowers unfurling their petals despite the hour. Their fragrance mingled in the air, a heady mix of roses, jasmine, and something sharper, almost metallic, that hinted at wards and hidden spells woven into the soil itself.

We crossed under a row of arching trees, their leaves silver-veined and glittering faintly as if kissed by dew made of starlight. Birds with jeweled feathers darted from branch to branch, their wings catching the sun in flashes of emerald and sapphire.

The palace walls that flanked us were alive with carvings—murals etched deep into stone, depicting battles long past, victories carved into history. Warriors with spears, queens with crowns, gods watching from above. Their eyes, like those statues in the court, seemed to follow me as I walked.

We reached a broad staircase that curved upward, each step inlaid with veins of crystal. My sandals clicked softly against them, the sound echoing faintly in the vast silence.

At the top, the hallway stretched wide, lit by lanterns suspended in midair without chains, their flames burning blue instead of gold. The air shimmered faintly here, thick with protective magic.

The guard knocked on a massive door bound with iron and gold. The sound reverberated through the hall like a drumbeat.

A servant answered, bowing low, and ushered me into what seemed like a common room of sorts. The chamber was large but less ostentatious than the courts, its walls hung with tapestries of soft silk, its floor covered with plush carpets. A fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth spilling into the room, chasing the chill of the stone. Low couches were arranged in circles, small tables set with trays of fruit and goblets of untouched wine.

We didn’t stop here. The servant led us through another hallway, narrower this time, quieter, with fewer decorations. The silence grew heavier, pressing against my ears, the sense of secrecy thickening.

Finally, we reached another door. The servant pushed it open with careful reverence, stepping aside and lowering her head as she gestured for me to enter.

"Her Majesty awaits," she murmured.

The guard gave a final nod, then turned away, his footsteps fading as he left me in the servant’s care.

I stepped inside—and there she was.

The Queen lounged upon a bed carved from dark wood, its canopy draped with gauzy silks that shimmered in the dim light. Pillows embroidered with gold thread cradled her as though the entire bed had been built to hold not just a woman, but a throne in softer form.

Her robe was loose, silk that clung in some places, slipped in others, revealing skin pale as moonlight. Jewels glittered at her wrists, her fingers, her ears—even in her repose, luxury clung to her like a second skin.

"Welcome," she said, her voice rich with command, though softened by the haze of morning.

The servant bowed low, waiting, until the Queen’s hand flicked with lazy dismissal.

"Leave us."

The servant obeyed immediately, shutting the door with a soft click that left me alone in the private chamber with her Majesty.

The Queen shifted, rising slowly, her movements fluid as silk sliding across marble. Her lips curved faintly, though her eyes were sharp, assessing me as though I were a piece of rare jewelry being weighed for flaws.

Without another word, she turned and moved toward an adjoining room.

"I will change," she said lightly, almost conversationally. "These sleeping garments are not suited for the matters we must discuss."