The High Council chamber was way too hot, smelling of burning beeswax candles, heavy velvet drapes, and dusty parchment that hadn’t been touched in decades.
I sat on the massive oak throne at the head of the crescent-shaped table, trying to look as royal, unbothered, and cold as possible.
I was wearing a heavy court gown of dark crimson velvet, the stiff, high collar forcing my posture into a completely straight, unyielding line.
Kaelen stood right behind my right shoulder like a solid stone wall, his large hand resting casually on his sword pommel.
His sheer size and silent, intimidating presence were enough to keep the old lords across the table completely quiet and on edge.
Lord Silas’s carved wooden chair at the center of the table was completely empty.
“This is an absolute ridiculous outrage!” Lord Bertrand, an old duke with shaky hands and bloodshot eyes, slammed his fist against the polished mahogany table.
“Seizing a council member’s private goods in the middle of the night?
Throwing Lord Silas out of the capital without a real trial by his peers?
Your Majesty, the Crown simply does not possess the legal authority to execute such aggressive actions against the nobility!”
“The Crown possesses whatever authority the numbers dictate, Lord Bertrand,” I said, my voice completely flat and echoing like ice cutting through the warm room.
I reached forward, tossing the thick stack of papers I had taken from the docks right into the middle of the table.
They slid across the polished wood, scattering in front of the lords and revealing the fake numbers and royal receipts.
“Those are the real, audited records from Silas’s warehouse,” I said, leaning back into the throne and crossing my arms comfortably.
“Lord Silas has been systematically underreporting the kingdom’s iron yields by fourteen percent for the last three fiscal years.
He wasn’t just hoarding resources; he was selling royal metal on the black market to pay for his own private mercenary army right here in the capital city.
In my terms, that is embezzlement.
In your terms, it is high treason.”
The room went completely dead silent.
The remaining four lords stared at the documents, their shapes turning a distinct shade of pale as they realized I had compiled a perfect, airtight paper trail.
There was no room for denial.
“Silas has already signed a full confession and is currently packing his bags for a permanent exile in the frozen northern wastes,” I added smoothly, watching their nervous expressions.
“His foundries, his vast lands, and his personal money now belong entirely to the palace.
And eighty percent of that newly acquired cash is going straight to the Silt District to permanently get rid of the grain tax and stabilize the lower-class labor market.”
“The slums?!” Lord Archibald, a thin, rat-faced man with a twitching eye, gasped out loud in absolute horror.
“You are giving royal gold to the peasants?
The rabble in the slums will take that as a sign of weakness from the throne!
They will start a massive riot!”
“They won’t riot because we just signed a legally binding contract,” I said, giving him a deeply bored look.
“The Silt District is now a tax-free manufacturing zone under the direct protection of the throne. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
They will provide the labor for our newly nationalized foundries, and in return, the Crown will guarantee their food supply and stop forcing their young men into the border armies.
It’s a clean, high-yield trade.
We turned a major security risk into a loyal asset.
If any of you have a problem with how I run the numbers, I would be more than happy to audit your personal family banks next.”
Nobody said a single word.
The old lords just sat there, staring at me as if I were a completely different person from the quiet, weak, and terrified girl they used to try and poison with their daily teas.
They didn’t understand half the corporate vocabulary I was using, but they fully understood that I had just backed them into a flawless financial corner.
I had broken their monopoly in less than a day.
“Great,” I said, standing up smoothly and letting my heavy crimson skirt fall into place.
“Meeting over.
Fix your spreadsheets, gentlemen.
I want the new tax distribution papers on my desk by tomorrow morning.”
Without waiting for them to bow or dismiss me, I turned on my heel and walked out of the chamber, Kaelen following right behind me like a shadow.
We walked down the sunny stone hallways of the grand palace, passing by old, towering tapestries that depicted the magical conquests of my ancestors.
For the first time since I woke up in this body, the castle actually felt safe.
The servants bowed significantly lower, the guards stood much straighter, and the constant, suffocating feeling that I was about to get murdered was finally gone.
I had won.
The slums were on my side, Silas was gone, and the high lords were terrified of my mind.
“You handled them exceptionally well,” Kaelen said quietly as we reached the privacy of my royal study.
He shut the heavy oak doors, sliding the brass bolt into place to finally lock the rest of the world out.
“The council is scared to death of you.
They’ve never seen a ruler fight with paper and ink instead of a sword.”
“Swords make a terrible mess, Kaelen,” I said, walking over to my desk and pouring a glass of sweet plum wine from a crystal decanter.
My hands were shaking a little from the pure exhaustion of the day, the adrenaline of the political battle finally wearing off.
“A good audit ruins the enemy’s operational capital before they even know they’re in a fight.
And besides…
I didn’t need a sword today.
Kaelen completely froze in place.
His golden eyes locked onto mine, a strange, intense, and unreadable look crossing his handsome face.
The quiet, respectful guard act completely melted away for a second, replaced by that heavy, dominant presence that always made it incredibly hard for me to breathe.
He took a slow, deliberate step toward my desk, his eyes darting down to my lips before looking straight back into my eyes.
“I will always protect you, Evangeline,” he whispered, his voice incredibly deep, low, and laced with a strange possessive edge.
“No matter what happens in this kingdom.
No matter what secrets are kept in the dark.”
The warm spark behind my ribs flared up again, a sweet, tingling heat that made my skin flush beneath my gown.
We were standing way too close.
The air in the study felt thick and highly charged, and for the very first time, I didn’t want to think about the numbers or the risks.
I just wanted to lean into him and let the logic go.
My eyes drifted past his broad shoulder, accidentally landing on a heavy iron chest sitting in the far corner of the room.
It was an old personal vault belonging to my dead father that the servants had just dug up from the deep castle basements while clearing out Silas’s confiscated properties.
It was covered in a thick layer of dust, wrapped tightly in heavy, rusted chains, and sealed with a weird, dark red crest I had never seen before.
The exact second my eyes hit that red seal, a sharp, blinding pain shot straight through my head like a lightning bolt.
The crystal glass of wine slipped right from my fingers, shattering loudly against the stone floor in a splash of dark red liquid that looked horrifyingly like fresh blood.
“Evangeline!” Kaelen lunged forward with blinding speed, catching me firmly by the waist before my knees could hit the stone.
But his voice sounded like it was underwater, echoing faintly from miles away.
The moment the wine hit the floor, a deafening, terrifying roar exploded inside my brain.
The solid stone walls of the study completely faded away, replaced by a massive, blinding wave of hot, suffocating red smoke.
The heavy smell of burning iron and melting stone filled my throat, and a memory that didn’t belong to Melissa, a horrific memory locked deep inside the cells of the original, evil Evangeline, snapped wide open.
“You are an absolute failure!” a cruel, angry voice screamed through the red smoke, vibrating with pure hatred.
“A powerless, useless parasite!
You will marry the Duke of the North and give him this throne, or I will burn this entire kingdom to the ground myself before I let you ruin my family’s legacy!”
A wave of pure, absolute rage ,an old, suffocating, and monstrous anger that had been locked away for years,exploded violently out of my chest.
In the vision, I looked down at my own hands.
The original Evangeline’s hands were glowing with a blinding, terrifying heat that looked like liquid fire, melting the very air around her.
The math was gone.
The calm corporate analyst was completely gone.
The monster had just woke up.