For a time, it seemed things were improving.
Alexander stood beside me in court now—not just physically, but vocally. He supported my decisions. He echoed my insights. Ministers had grown more careful in how they responded to me, and their interruptions had lessened. To the uninformed observer, it might have looked like progress. Like the Veridian prince was finally being woven into Avaloria's ruling body.
But court politics had never been that simple. And neither had hate.
In truth, the knives had only gone underground.
The whispers didn't vanish—they just changed tone. Where once they were muttered in defiance, now they were spoken with careful precision, tucked behind fans and goblets, beneath laughter and protocol. My presence in the room might have gained formality, but it had not earned acceptance.
And I began to notice.
