"You should have killed that woman when you encountered her in the North," Emily murmured, her voice soft as silk yet laced with a quiet venom.

She drifted toward the window, the light filtering through just enough to cast a fragile glow on her features. Everything about her posture was calculated– from the slow curve of her back, to the delicate tremble of her fingers as they clutched the embroidered handkerchief. She had long learnt that weakness, when displayed right, disarmed even the strongest.

It had earned her Lennox once before, and it kept him too. Her lessons in the North had made her use that feminine power to her own advantage. And her father? He simply wanted to get rid of her but only to the highest bidder. Of course she couldn't stand by and do nothing while he planned to marry her off to that ugly bin, Thadius. So she charmed Lennox and made him believe it was the mate bond.

Her father was a greedy man who only sought after the wealth of others, and a part of her was glad that he was dead too. But if she intended to keep her place in the palace, getting rid of Esme from Lennox's mind was the only option left. The entirety of Illyria is already slowly falling apart, and if she has any intention of surviving what may come, then it is sticking to those who could keep her safe. She had to ensure that Lennox's feelings for her would not fade no matter what, or else, he could discarded her on the spot and go running back to that Montague woman all over again.

Shaking her head at the thought of being abandoned, she knew she had to play her part right.

Pressing the handkerchief delicately beneath her eye as though she was wiping away tears that remained inexistent, she turned to Lennox. "That woman didn't just humiliate me in front of the entire council, she mocked the very idea of unity, of the peace we tried so hard to rebuild all over again. She stood there and claimed to be the Luna of the North as though the rest of us are nothing more than shadows in the kingdom. She looked me straight in the eye and told us she didn't need the court."

Emily paused, taking a deep breath, maintaining a composed but wounded expression– precisely how she wanted him to see her. Lennox stood silent in the center of the throne room, brooding, and she took full advantage of the moment.

"Do you truly believe I have no right to end her after what she did?" Her voice lowered, more dangerous now. "I may be your wife but I am a Queen as well, and she ridiculed me in front of everyone. I could've struck her down in a breath if I wanted."

She took a step closer to Lennox, her teary eyes narrowing. "I could have her head mounted in the capital square and waiting for you like a trophy to welcome you with. Perhaps then you'd see me too."

She finally averted her gaze, the handkerchief squeezing in her grip. "But I didn't. I stayed my hands for you. Because even after all this time, even after she left you and abandoned you on the altar for someone else. I know there's still a part of you clinging to the ghost of her. You know it too, you're just afraid to admit it."

She went quiet, letting that thought linger in the air like a poison.

"You said she wanted peace, and you wanted to give it to her. You wanted to fix what was broken, but now she's using her Luna status like it grants her dominion over all of Illyria." Her voice broke, beautifully, as she turned back to the window. "And you let her."

"Emily," Lennox finally spoke, lifting a hand to silence her. Weariness bled into the gesture, and he had no strength left to counter the storm she was stirring.

He had seen enough on the road back. Fought enough. Lost enough. All he had wanted was a few quiet hours. Maybe even solace in the arms of his mate. Instead, he came home to find his wife dressed in fury and sorrow, spinning stories of Esme and the council chamber in both sides of his ears before he could catch a break.

Still, he chose to understand the gravity of the matter.

"But why did she come here?" Lennox asked, his voice low with confusion and a rage he wasn't eager to vent. "Didn't she read the letter?"

At his question, Emily let out a soft, incredulous laugh, the kind that lingered just enough to sting. She turned to him, as if the very question insulted her intelligence.

"Lennox," her voice was syrupy and wounded all at once. "I just told you— she stormed in, mocked my position as Queen and tore the letter to pieces. Right in front of me. Then threw it at my feet like it meant absolutely nothing."

Emily waited long enough to let the image sink in his head, and she could hardly believe it. "You still think this is some kind of misunderstanding? Still clinging to the idea that she cares about reconciliation?"

Lennox's lips parted like he wanted to defend himself, but he couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. Emily simply nodded and pointed toward the door. "If you won't believe me, ask the council. She stood there and said it herself, that she has no allegiance to this kingdom. No desire for unity and she meant everything word. She wants to fight this battle on her own. There were witnesses. Everyone in the palace heard her."

She watched him, searching his face for any sign of doubts, and she could tell he was feeling conflicted. He raked his fingers through his hair, unease settling in his gut. He knew the meeting with Esme had been canceled last minute due to urgent matters of state. That's why he'd sent the letter earlier to explain his absence and to avoid having her come all the way here. So why did she show up even when he made it clear he wouldn't be around?

And why like this?

Has his Esme truly changed?

Or was someone playing mind-games with her?

The mere thought of Donovan was enough to sour his already ruined mood, and he knew, without a doubt, that that man was influencing his Esme and making her act out of character.

Sensing his hesitation, Emily slid closer. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest and acting shaky for deliberate reasons. "She humiliated me in front of everyone, Lennox. She came to frighten me when you weren't here to keep me protected. She even brought them. Her cursed allies to the palace. We're the enemies in her eyes now."

Her fingers clutched her fabric of his expensive tunic as if to steady herself, her voice quivering slightly.

"What are you going to do?"

Lennox glanced down at her, his golden gaze unreadable. He didn't return her embrace even though he needed them a few minutes ago. Instead, he gently patted her back in a placating manner, then drew away from her.

"I know Esme," he said carefully. "She wouldn't come here without a reason and I stand on it. Something must have happened. What I think is that Donovan is using her to get back at me. He doesn't want an alliance. Not after everything that happened between us. He wants vengeance and I know he's only doing this so he could appear as the good guy in her eyes. That bastard is behind all this."

His eyes narrowed as he stepped away, his tone resolute. "We won't act rashly. Not yet. I was very clear in my letter. I explained the necessity for canceling the meeting and provided a reason. My people needed me. Regardless of their opinion, that does not excuse the insubordination they displayed in my absence. I will speak to them personally, and have someone summon Donovan for me."

Emily's gaze sharpened when she heard he was going to involve Donovan, her pupils dilating, and she struggled to maintain composure. "You mean the leader?"

There was just the slightest edge of distaste in her voice, yet it was soft enough to be mistaken for concern.

"He has no choice," Lennox replied, whilst stiffening his resolve. "Whether or not he recognizes my authority, I am his king. He will answer to me. And this time, he'll bring Esme along."

Putting those two together made his jaw set, his expression hardening. Emily was about to suggest something else when a guard entered the room, bowing low.

"My king," the guard announced, "a lady from the North has arrived. She requests an audience."

Both parties exchanged a look before facing the guard who still awaited orders.

"Send her in," uttered Lennox.

As the guard left, Emily turned her gaze to Lennox. "Were you expecting someone from the North?"

"No," he said slowly, his brows furrowing. "The roads are treacherous now, especially from the North. No one should be traveling at this time."

A moment later, the throne room doors parted, and a young woman stepped forward, her cloak dusted from the road. Emily's gaze swept over the young woman, and she couldn't help but wonder why she looked familiar… like someone she knew. Whoever she was, she maintained her bearing confidence.

"Greetings, my King and Queen of Illyria," the lady said with a graceful bow.

Lennox's gaze simply followed her, finding her unrecognizable. "And who might you be?"

"Anita Hewman," she replied with a polite smile. "I've come with reports regarding your missing advisor. I can tell you where he is, and who he's with."

Upon listening to what the lady had to say, Lennox's breath hitched. His eyes widened slightly as he stepped forward. "Leonardo?"