Vidalia
That night, I dreamt of roses.
Not blooming ones, no. These were blackened, thorny, weeping crimson from their stems. The petals curled like ash. At the center of them all was a mirror. And in the mirror—
I woke before I saw.
The sheets were tangled, the moonlight pale against the marble floor. I sat up, pressing my palm to my forehead. Lady Senra's words hadn't left me—they curled around my thoughts like vines.
One wears his beast. The other hides his deep within.
Kyren. Geo.
It had to be them.
And yet… what if it wasn't? What if there were more beasts than even she could see?
I needed air.
I slipped into my slippers and drew on a cloak, careful not to wake Tyla. The corridors were dimly lit, torches flickering as if disturbed by some unseen breath. The east wing was silent.
I told myself I was only walking.
But my feet took me toward the north wing.
To his chambers.
I stopped just short of Kyren's door, hand raised—only to freeze at the sound of footsteps. Heavy. Controlled.
I ducked behind a column.
Geo.
He didn't see me.
But what chilled me wasn't his presence.
It was the direction he was headed.
Kyren's war room.
He shouldn't be there. Not at this hour. Not unannounced.
Curiosity betrayed caution. I followed.
Geo
The door creaked as I let myself in, the war room empty save for the low-burning oil lamp and the scent of old maps.
I closed it behind me and walked to the central table, trailing fingers along the edges.
Everything Kyren planned was spread here. Border markers. Supply routes. Guard shifts.
Predictable.
I pulled a slender silver device from my sleeve. A tiny spike, no longer than a finger. Slid it under the edge of the map. Harmless enough. Until it recorded sound.
One beast likes his war loud.
I preferred mine… whispered.
But before I could place a second one—a breath.
Behind me.
I turned fast.
Vidalia stood in the doorway. Her eyes wide. No cloak to shield her. No excuse to offer.
"Well," I said with a soft smile, "this is awkward."
Vidalia
"I could say the same," I replied, though my voice came out thinner than I liked.
Geo didn't flinch. He merely straightened and stepped away from the table. "Couldn't sleep?"
"You're not supposed to be in here," I said, ignoring the question.
"And yet, here we are."
The warmth that usually danced behind his words was gone. Something else had replaced it—cool calculation.
I stepped forward slowly. "What were you doing?"
"Admiring Kyren's obsession with war." He gestured to the table. "So meticulous. So… beastly."
"That's not what it looked like."
He tilted his head. "No?"
I glanced at the spot where he'd just stood. A tiny glint of silver peeked from the map's corner. I moved toward it.
Geo's voice turned low. "Careful, Vidalia."
I reached down. Picked it up. Cold. Smooth. Wrong.
I looked up at him, the truth clawing up my throat. "You're spying on him."
His smile returned—but it didn't reach his eyes. "No. I'm protecting you. From the monster you're being fed to."
My heart thudded.
"You think planting these makes you a savior?" I asked.
"I think," he said, stepping closer, "you don't know what he's capable of. Not truly."
I held my ground. "And what are you, Geo? A man who watches in silence, whispers in shadows, and follows girls since they were children?"
Something in his face twitched. "You remember."
"Enough."
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he leaned in, close enough that I could smell the bitter herbs on his breath.
"I'm not the one you should fear," he whispered.
"I already do," I said back.
Kyren burst into the room.
The tension snapped like a blade against steel.
He took in the scene—me, clutching a silver device. Geo, too close.
His voice came out sharp. "Step away from her."
Geo slowly backed off, raising both hands.
"I wasn't hurting her," he said. "Just… having a conversation."
Kyren's eyes never left him. "You'll leave this wing. Now."
Geo hesitated. Just for a second. Then bowed slightly, mockingly, and strolled out like he hadn't just torn through the last sliver of trust.
I turned to Kyren, heart pounding.
He looked at me—not angry, not victorious, just… tired.
"What did he say to you?" he asked.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. "Nothing I didn't already suspect."
Outside, the rain finally began to fall.
But it wasn't gentle.
It slammed against the windows, hard and relentless.
The kind of storm that promised more than water.
It promised ruin.
Kyren
I stood in the war room long after she left.
The silver spike she'd found still rested in my palm, cold and damning. I stared at it—not because I didn't understand its purpose, but because I did. Far too well.
Geo didn't just step over a line tonight.
He declared war.
He underestimated me. Believed me the brute, the hammer that swings, not the hand that guides.
And that… was his first mistake.
I'd been watching him longer than he realized. Even before he approached Vidalia, even before his sudden "coincidental" presence at court. Geo was a skilled liar, but he was no ghost. Ghosts don't leave footprints.
And he left plenty.
Still, what I hadn't anticipated was how easily he could slither. Into the court. Into Vidalia's mind.
And into her eyes.
I'd seen it tonight. The confusion. The hesitation.
Fear.
Not of me, no. Not anymore. But of the truth twisting behind Geo's pretty words.
That's what stung.
Not jealousy. No—I had no space in me for such weakness.
It was doubt.
And doubt was a poison.
I moved to the windows as thunder cracked in the distance. Rain struck the glass like fingers trying to claw their way in.
Behind me, Mark's voice broke the silence.
"You should've gutted him."
"He'd enjoy that," I said. "He wants us angry. Sloppy. Predictable."
Mark leaned against the doorway. "You have a plan?"
I turned slightly. "Not yet. But I will. And this time… he'll be the one walking into a trap."
Mark studied me a beat, then gave a slow nod. "What about her?"
I didn't answer immediately.
Vidalia.
The moment I saw her with that spike in her hand, I felt something rise inside me. Not rage. Not even protectiveness.
It was certainty.
She's in this now. Caught in the web.
Whether she likes it or not.
"She stays close," I said finally. "No more wandering at night. No more unguarded walks. If she breathes near Geo, I want to know."
Mark arched a brow. "You sound like a jealous lover."
I shot him a look. "I sound like a man watching wolves circle someone who doesn't know she's bleeding."
Mark straightened. "Understood. But be careful. She's not a pawn."
"I know," I said quietly.
She's the only one I can't play.
Later that night, I sat alone in my chamber, the fire crackling behind me.
A map spread across my table—this time not of borders or battlegrounds, but of people. Connections. Nobles. House loyalties. Geo's past.
I circled three names. All quietly connected to Geo. All in positions to shift the tide of power should something happen to me.
I began writing letters.
Not threats.
Invitations.
A beast who only bares his fangs is easy to predict. But one who wears silk and smiles?
That's the one you never see coming.
Geo wanted to play a deeper game?
Fine.
He just forgot who built the board.