The south lawn should have smelled like cut grass and sun. Instead it smelled like smoke, sweat, and too many bodies pressed into too little space.
Ann walked the perimeter anyway, her cloak traded for a plain jacket and her crown left behind. It was just her, boots in the dirt, and a small ring of guards shadowing her steps. The palace rose behind them, its stone bright in the midday glare. Ahead of her lay a mass of: tents and Cooking fires, children's voices cutting high through the low mutter of adults as they ran among the tents.
Adam was gone.
He'd left before dawn, Dark Moon already moving in convoy, wolves shifting between fur and skin as they hauled wagons, supplies, weapons in a line that followed the few trucks he had allowed to escort them. The less attention they drew, the better. At least with wagons there was still the possibility of farmers on the road.
He hadn't wanted to go, not with everything still so raw, but he had. Because she'd ordered it. Because their people needed walls and ground that wasn't three days away if the Lycan King decided to test her defenses.
She hadn't watched him ride out. She couldn't.
Now it was just her.
A knot of workers waited by the skeletal outline of the new foundation...half dug trenches, stacks of stone blocks, the beginnings of wards scrawled in chalk. The site where the portal building would be built. Ann strode toward them and saw that Coral was already there, clipboard in hand, hair pinned up so tightly it gave her an air of strict authority.
"Your Majesty," one of the masons said, bowing quickly. His hands were white with chalk dust. "We've run into… a few issues."
"Issues," Ann repeated, folding her arms.
"Yes. The ground here isn't stable enough for a full anchor structure without reinforcement. We'll need deeper foundations. And more stone. Twice as much."
Coral didn't look up from her notes.
"Which we currently don't have."
Ann pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Then lets look at these options…" she hummed thoughtfully as she thought quickly of possible solutions, "If stone's thin, use reinforced steel and lay the wards into it. We're not building a temple. It just has to hold steady."
The mason swallowed and nodded.
Coral scribbled frantically.
"I'll requisition the steel, but if we cannibalize the east barracks beams..."
"Not the barracks," Ann said sharply. "Our soldiers sleep there. Find another option."
Eva's voice carried from behind her, cool and blunt as ever.
"We could strip the old granary. No one's using it now. But the symbolism..."
"The granary's fine," Ann cut in. "Symbolism doesn't hold portals."
A breeze carried the sound of raised voices from the nearer camp, not fighting...not yet. But a heated discussion all the same.
Ann's shoulders stiffened.
"Jesus…What now." she muttered more to herself than anything.
"Refugees," Coral said grimly. "They want to know if this land belongs to them, or if they're squatters until we throw them back out."
"Did anyone tell them otherwise?"
"Some guards might have… phrased things poorly."
Ann exhaled through her teeth. Of course.
She left the construction crew with Coral, guards fanning around her as she crossed to the tents. The noise sharpened as she approached: a woman's voice carrying, brittle with fear.
"…we fled fire for this? To be penned in and moved on again when it suits?"
A man answered, angrier. "They'll never let us stay. Not with Lycans sniffing the borders. We're no better than pawns, same as before."
Heads turned when they saw her. Silence hit like a drop in pressure.
Ann stopped just close enough to make them crane but not flinch.
"This land," she said, voice carrying, "isn't a holding pen. It isn't borrowed ground. It's yours. If you came here for peace, you keep it. Nobody throws you back into fire."
The woman's chin trembled. "And when the Lycan King's men come? When they say we belong to them?"
Ann met her eyes.
"Then they answer to me before they even get in arms reach of any of you."
Bold statement, Queenie, Maeve drawled. "You better pray that your gihters can cash the cheques that your mouth is writing when they come knocking on our walls."
The tone of the murmur shifted slightly...their doubt turning into something else. Not trust. Not yet. But it was less volatile than it had been before.
A boy stepped out from behind his mother, grubby-faced, voice thin. "What about food?"
Ann crouched so he didn't have to tilt his head back. "We'll ration tighter. It won't be easy, but you won't starve." She glanced at the guards. "Double deliveries tonight. And make sure it's shared evenly. No favorites."
"Yes, My Queen,," one said quickly.
The boy studied her like he wanted to believe. Then he nodded and retreated, clutching his mother's skirt.
Ann rose. "You're not pawns. Not here. You build with us, you fight with us, you eat with us. This land belongs to all of us, or it belongs to none."
Silence stretched. Then a few heads dipped. It was enough for now.
She turned back toward the construction site, her pulse a little too fast.
"Nice speech," Maeve said. Almost believed it myself. Shame you're running on three hours' sleep and tea cold enough to cry over."
"Not now," Ann muttered.
Coral fell into step beside her, eyes bright behind the obvious exhaustion.
"That was good. They needed to hear it."
"They'll need to hear it again tomorrow," Ann said. "And the day after. Until they believe it."
Eva joined them near the scaffolding, arms folded, her silence heavy.
"Belief won't pour foundations. We need this stone. We need strong hands. Half of these people want shelter, not work."
"They'll work," Ann said, sharper than she meant.
Eva's brow arched.
"You're sure? Fear doesn't always make people useful. Sometimes it makes them selfish."
"Then I'll remind them what happens when selfishness runs a kingdom," Ann snapped. "We've all seen it. None of us survived it just to repeat it."
That shut even Eva up.
The masons shifted awkwardly, then bent back to their chalk lines. Coral made another note, jaw tight.
Ann stared at the chalked outlines, at the empty space that would be the portal building. A place to anchor rescues. To open doors. To drag Lexi back through if Brarthroroz found her. Or her body.
Her ribs hurt with how hard she kept breathing.
Adam should have been here, his steady weight at her side, snarling at anyone who doubted her. Instead she had chalk, stone, whispers, and exhaustion like a lead weight dragging at her spine.
"And me," Maeve purred. "Don't forget the helpful voice in your head reminding you this crown doesn't mean a damn thing when disaster hits."
"Shut up," Ann whispered.
Nobody noticed. Coral was arguing with the mason about load-bearing, Eva scribbling figures like she could wrestle reality into balance.
Ann turned back once, watching the refugee tents ripple in the breeze. They weren't pawns. Not anymore.
The thought landed heavy and strange. This wasn't just survival anymore. It was something else.
Her throat tightened, but she forced it down. She couldn't break, not now.
Not with Adam gone. Not with Brarthroroz hunting shadows. Not with Lexi's blood on a burned scrap of cloth.
She stood straighter, voice carrying back to Coral and Eva without looking.
"Make it work. Whatever it takes."
They both nodded, efficient as ever.
Ann looked once more at the camps, the palace, the unfinished building. Everything fragile. Everything waiting to break.
She exhaled, low and even.
"Fine," she muttered. "If the world wants to tear itself apart, it can do it around me. Not through me."
There she is, Maeve whispered, almost pleased. Queen of strays. And they're starting to believe it.
Ann didn't answer. She just kept walking the lines until dusk bled over the horizon, the daylight giving way to evening.