The moon hung low like a silent witness, veiled by the shifting mist that wrapped around the palace grounds. Lenora moved like breath itself—silent, deliberate, untouchable. The corridors of the royal estate, dimly lit and steeped in silence, were child's play for someone like her. The guards had long since grown lazy under her influence, their senses dulled, their loyalty borrowed.
But tonight, something felt off.
They wouldn't let her near the queen Luna. Not the council. Not the maids. Not even the ever-docile advisors she had bent to her will. And when the palace began guarding the Queen's chambers as if she were a relic—locked behind silk and silence—Lenora knew something was wrong.
She came when shadows were thickest.
