Elara’s POV
I had learned to recognize the sound of small, careful footsteps.
They were lighter than a guard’s, quieter than a servant’s, hesitant in a way that belonged only to a child who knew she was somewhere she was not supposed to be. When I heard them just beyond the council chamber doors, my pen paused mid-stroke.
I did not look up immediately.
I finished signing the decree, pressed the seal into the wax, and then spoke calmly into the echoing chamber.
“Elena,” I said.
Silence. Then, reluctantly, the door creaked open.
She stood there stiffly, hands folded behind her back, chin raised in that familiar, stubborn way that reminded me so painfully of myself at her age. My eldest daughter. My shadow. My future queen, if she had her way.
“I wasn’t spying,” she said quickly.
I sighed and set the parchment aside. “You were listening.”
Her jaw tightened. “I was learning.”
The chamber felt too large suddenly, too heavy with words meant for adults who carried swords and secrets. I gestured toward the long table.
“Come here.”
She obeyed, though her steps were defensive rather than obedient.
I waited until she stood beside me before speaking again. “How long?”
“Only the end,” she said. “When they were arguing.”
Of course she had come at the worst moment. The raised voices. The tension. The threat beneath every sentence.
“Elena,” I said carefully, “you cannot wander the palace alone right now.”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m not afraid.”
“I am,” I replied honestly.
That surprised her into silence.
I knelt in front of her so we were eye to eye. “The kingdom is unstable. People are angry. Dangerous things happen when fear spreads faster than reason.”
She hesitated. “You’re scared too.”
“Yes,” I said. “But fear doesn’t mean weakness. It means caution.”
She looked away, chewing on her lower lip. “I just wanted to understand.”
My chest tightened. “You will,” I promised. “But not like this. Not alone. Not yet.”
She nodded slowly, the defiance softening into something more vulnerable. “I’ll stay with the maids,” she said. “For now.”
I kissed her forehead, breathing in the faint scent of parchment and ink that clung to her hair. “Thank you.”
Footsteps echoed behind us.
Caden entered the chamber, his presence immediately shifting the air. He looked tired—lines etched deeper into his face than usual—but his eyes softened when he saw us.
“Elena,” he said. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”
She straightened. “I know.”
He crouched beside me. “You’re brave,” he told her. “But bravery also means knowing when to listen.”
She nodded solemnly.
When she left with a maid, Caden turned to me. “You handled that well.”
I exhaled. “I’m terrified of raising rulers in a kingdom on the brink of tearing itself apart.”
“You’re not alone,” he said quietly.
I reached for his hand, grounding myself in the familiar weight of it. “Where’s Lise?”
His brow furrowed. “With the tutors?”
I shook my head slowly. “She was supposed to be.”
A pause stretched between us.
“Elena,” I called, stopping her before she could leave the corridor entirely.
She turned.
“Where is your sister?”
Her eyes darted away.
“Elena,” I warned.
“She said she wanted to help,” she whispered. “She didn’t want to just sit and listen anymore.”
My heart skipped.
“Help how?” I demanded.
“She said the refugees near the lower quarter needed blankets,” Elena said quickly. “She said she’d only be gone a little while.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Caden straightened instantly. “How long ago?”
Elena swallowed. “Hours.”
The word rang in my ears like a bell of doom.
Caden was already issuing orders, calling guards, voices echoing down the corridor. I barely heard him.
Lise. My youngest. My dreamer. The child who believed love alone could fix what swords had broken. I moved before thinking, my pulse roaring, fear clawing up my spine.
“Find her,” I said, my voice shaking despite myself. “Find her now.”
As guards scattered and the palace erupted into motion, a single thought burned through me, sharp and unforgiving:
If Alexander had touched my child—
I didn’t finish the thought.
I couldn’t.
And as the hours stretched on with no sign of her, panic took hold like a living thing, tightening its grip with every passing breath.
Lise was gone.
And the kingdom suddenly felt far too dangerous for innocence.