As soon as Ann reached her office the following morning, the summons was waiting for her on her desk, sealed with the Council's mark.
Ann turned the wax between her fingers, her thumb pressing into the familiar crest. It wasn't the first time they'd sent a summons to her before sunrise and she was well aware that it was a tactic used to drag her from sleep and force her into a situation where she hadn't had time to build an argument or a defence against whatever the issue might be.
"It never works though does it?" Maeve snorted, "There's nothing that we've done that we need to defend against."
She dressed without ceremony, pulling her hair into a braid tight enough to bite at her scalp. The crown stayed on its stand. If they wanted to rattle her, they could face her without the metal reminder of her throne. Adam offered to come, his jaw set in a way that told her he'd rather drag the Elders into the courtyard and solve things with his fists.
"I need you at the border council though," she told him. "They'll try to goad you into an outburst of anger I expect, so I won't give them that chance."
His growl followed her out of their chambers anyway, a low promise that if the Elders pushed too far, he wouldn't hesitate to follow up with them and show them just how far he could go if they pushed.
The corridors to the Council chamber were quiet and runners gave her a wide berth, guards lowered their eyes. News of Derwell still crawled through the palace, but this silence was something else. A waiting hush, as though everyone already knew the Elders meant to draw blood.
The chamber itself was colder than usual, as if someone had thrown open the high vents before dawn. The air smelled of damp stone. Every seat around the crescent table was filled, robes arranged neatly, eyes fixed on her sharply as she entered, their conversations dropping instantly.
"Ooo. This looks like they mean business." Maeve growled softly.
Ann walked the length of the room without hesitation and set her hands flat on the table.
"You summoned me?" Ann stated nonchalantly.
"Alpha Queen," One of the elders began, his tone one of mock formality and Ann didn't miss the disdain that dripped in his voice. "You stand accused."
"That's not exactly very informative. Accused of what, exactly?" Ann asked as she raised an eyebrow.
"You shelter Lycans in these walls," A female elder spat before the first elder could elaborate. Her rings clinked against the arm of her chair as she leaned forward. "You invite their stench into the palace. Do you think the Lycan King will overlook such an insult as you harbor his criminals?"
Another elder narrowed his eyes.
"You legitimize witch-blood. You elevate their gifts as though they were not the very cause of our ruin in the daemon wars. Your compassion is a weakness and you will drown this kingdom in blood if you continue."
A snort came from another, one of the oldest at the table. His voice rasped but still carried clearly.
"Call it whatever you like but to me it looks like you are courting disaster with every refugee that you coddle. You play at being a Queen for all when you cannot even hold your own people and borders alone."
Another elder sighed heavily, her voice less accusatory and more calculating as she leaned back in her chair.
"It isn't your compassion that concerns me, your Majesty. It's your strategy. Every Lycan you harbor is a liability. They may serve you today, but who says they won't return to their King tomorrow and deliver him the entirety of your defenses?"
And from the other side, another voicethat was quiet but dripping with as much disdain as she had ever heard.
"You mistake idealism for leadership. Wolves follow strength, not sentiment. And right now, sentiment is all you show."
Maeve snorted loudly, her hackles rising and canines bared furiously.
"Are they serious? Accused of being a merciful and fair leader?!"
Ann's fingers curled against the table as she narrowed her eyes at them.
"So, that is the charge? Mercy. Inclusion. Strategy. Sentiment. You dress it in many words, but it's all the same fear."
Murmurs swept the circle, and Ann's gaze found Bartholomew as he shifted in his seat, his expression unreadable. He did not speak.
"You think that you're clever," an elder snapped. "You twist words but the Lycan King doesn't care for cleverness. He will bring war to our gates, and your… openness gives him reason enough especially when you harbor those that he has exiled."
Ann leaned forward, meeting the elder's glare head-on.
"Reason? Or excuse? Because if we're speaking of reason, then perhaps we should revisit who it was that set the precedent for hiding Lycans in the first place."
The chamber stilled and a few of the Elders froze, too carefully. Bartholomews lips pressed tightly together but she could see the approval in his eyes and the slight nod that he sent her way.
Ann let the pause hang, then pressed harder.
"Greyson's mother. His brother. Families hidden long before I wore this crown. You kept them out of the King's reach, smuggled them into other packs, built new homes and swore their silence. Or do you deny it?"
A few throats were cleared but no other words came to meet her challenge. Some grunted and looked away and other's avoided looking at her, their hands tightening on their armrest.
"You were the ones who began all of this," Ann hissed furiously, "So don't pretend that I invented this. You," her gaze swept the table, pinning each of them in turn ",were the architects of this 'treachery' that you accuse me of. You facilitated it. You lied. You swore secrecy while preaching purity. Should each of you here also stand accused then?"
Bartholomew's shoulders hunched, his eyes closing briefly as if mirroring the other Elders reactions.
"And it wasn't only Greyson's line," Ann went on, her voice sharp. "What about the family of the disgraced nobles bloodline in the western valley? The ones who vanished without record. Were they not hidden the same way? Or the last remaining heir to a shattered Lycan clan? That boy was fostered in secrecy until he was old enough to be drafted. How many names do I need to list before you stop pretending?"