Roderic
“You’ve lost your mind, Roderic.”
Caelan’s voice sounded through the room, filled with annoyance.
I leaned back against my desk, arms crossed over my chest, watching him.
My Beta, Harwick, stood by the window with an equally exasperated look on his face.
“I’m not being reckless,” I said.
“It’s a direct approach. We expose the entire scheme to Eldric, tie it to Lord Aven as the mastermind, and strike a bargain. Eldric gets the truth about his daughter, and in exchange, he helps us dismantle House Sorvane from the outside while we—”
“While we what?” Caelan spun to face me.
“You think Eldric would just take the news of his missing daughter lying down? Smile and thank you for telling him?” His voice rose.
“Are you thinking about your people, Roderic? The women, the children, those whose trust is in you to make the right decisions and give them another day to live?”
“Of course. I’m not saying it’s without risk, but it’s worth a shot. Eldric does the heavy lifting, and we’re finally rid of House Sorvane.”
“While we burn every alliance we’ve spent three years building?” Caelan jabbed a finger toward the window.
“We’ve just proven to the Eastern Kingdom that you’re not to be taken lightly. The western lords are about to pledge. Harwick has turned the northern packs. All of that — all of it — collapses the moment you drag Eldric into this prematurely.”
Harwick turned from the window.
“He’s right, Your Majesty. The political infrastructure we’ve built is fragile. One misstep and it’s gone.”
I clenched my teeth.
“And what about Lysara? That woman attacked her and nearly killed her. I need to make sure she’s secured before—”
“Oh, for the love of the goddess.” Caelan stopped pacing and stared at me with an expression I’d never seen him wear before — something between fury and pity.
“That’s women’s fight, Roderic. It’s normal. But you trying to upend all our plans — everything we’ve worked for, everything we’ve risked — because of a woman? That makes you stupid.”
“Watch your mouth, Caelan.”
“I’ll watch my mouth when you open your eyes.” He crossed the room and stood directly in front of me.
“Lysara has always been unhinged when it comes to you. She’s obsessive, she acts without thinking, and you know this. I wouldn’t be surprised if she staged the entire thing to make the queen look bad.”
I shot to my feet.
“Don’t you dare disrespect Lysara in front of me. She would never—”
“She tried to kill herself, Roderic.” Caelan’s voice dropped low.
“She knows your heart belongs to her and knows how the Sorvanes have you in a straitjacket, but she went ahead and made an attempt on her life. For what?”
“She wasn’t happy about the marriage to Princess Esmira—”
“Knowing that putting herself in harm’s way would have destroyed you, she did it anyway. Consideration is the highest form of love, Roderic. Lysara is capable of extremes, and you know that. The only person who refuses to see it is you, because you love her too much to look clearly.”
The sting from the words silenced me, and I sat back down, running a hand through my hair.
Caelan exhaled and lowered himself into the chair across from me.
When he spoke again, the anger was gone.
“I have reports from Dunmere.”
I looked up.
“What did you find?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
“The house where Enora’s family lived was gutted by fire a few days ago and burned to the ground. No survivors. The neighbours’ homes were destroyed too. The entire section of the village is ash.”
“Not a single soul.”
Harwick stepped forward.
“That’s not a coincidence, Roderic. Someone cleaned up, and that has Lord Aven’s signature written all over it.” He paused.
“There’s more. I’ve received reports that over the past few days, my uncle, Lord Jon, has been quietly rounding up palace maids, particularly those from Ceranthia and those who worked in Esmira’s chambers. They’re taken for questioning, and they don’t come back.”
“They’re eliminating witnesses,” Caelan said flatly.
“Anyone who might have known the real Esmira or the real Enora Hale. That’s the only explanation.”
“Not finding anything about Enora could prove she’s lying,” I said, though the conviction in my voice was fading.
“She could be Aven’s spy, planted to gain my trust.”
“My uncle would never use a woman like that,” Harwick shook his head.
“I checked the palace register. The timeline Enora gave us- her arrival date, her assignment, her placement- it all checks out. She was registered six days before the wedding as a temporary kitchen and décor assistant.” He paused.
“My uncle is not planting a spy in the register days in advance and then burning down her village to cover tracks. He’s erasing her identity because something happened to the real princess. Something as terrible as death.”
The room went quiet.
I shook my head slowly.
“Aven would not go to such lengths. Esmira being missing is one thing. But killing her? He needed her for the alliance.”
“Exactly my point,” Caelan said.
“I don’t think Aven killed her either. He’s calculated, not stupid. But something happened that night, something he didn’t plan for, and he’s been scrambling to contain it ever since.” He leaned back.
“For now, we focus on finding the real Esmira. Dead or alive, we need to know. And we keep the fake Esmira close, because she came to us first. That girl is the only reason this kingdom isn’t at war right now.”
I leaned heavily in my chair.
If Esmira was dead, we were sitting on a secret that could ignite a continent.
“Eldric didn’t react at all today,” I said quietly.
“When he saw the fake Esmira. There was no suspicion or hesitation. He called her darling. He was completely fooled.”
I turned to Harwick.
“Did you get the portrait?”
He reached into the leather case beside his chair and unfurled a rolled canvas on the desk.
Princess Esmira of House Eldarion stared back at us.
The portrait was formal.
Shoulders straight, chin lifted, a thin gold circlet resting on dark hair.
Her expression was composed and regal, and it carried the faint arrogance that had been my first impression of her.
But the face.
I stared at it, and my breath caught.
It was Enora’s face: the same bone structure, the same shape of the eyes, the same line of the jaw.
The resemblance was so close that it made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
The portrait’s eyes were hard, entitled, certain of their place in the world.
Enora’s eyes carried something different.
Something the portrait couldn’t capture because it didn’t belong to Esmira.
The three of us stared in silence.
Then Caelan shook his head slowly.
“No… no… no.” The disbelief in his voice was real.
“This wasn’t improvised. Aven didn’t grab the nearest maid and throw a crown on her head. He chose this girl. He knew about the resemblance.”
“If that is true, then it means he’s been watching her,” Harwick said.
“For months, possibly longer. If he identified a common girl in a remote village who could pass for a Ceranthian princess—”
“Then he’s had a contingency plan for Esmira’s removal long before she died,” I finished.
The silence that followed was the heaviest the room had held.
“It seems Aven has had this coming for a long time,” I said, dropping the portrait onto the desk.
“And now it’s our duty to find out exactly what it is.”
“Agreed,” Caelan nodded.
“But we move carefully. No more talk of exposing anything to Eldric. At least, not until we have the full picture.”
“Fine. We continue as planned. The feast, the blessing, Soren’s access to the study. But we add one more objective. We need to find out how Aven knew about the resemblance. That trail leads somewhere, and wherever it ends is where the truth is buried.”
A knock at the door interrupted us.
Harwick rolled the portrait away as I called out.
“Enter.”
A servant stepped inside and bowed.
“Your Majesty, Alpha King Eldric and Lord Aven are waiting in the dining hall. They wish to begin the evening meal.”
I stood and straightened my coat.
Caelan gave me a look that said, “Keep it together.”
I was halfway to the door when the servant cleared his throat and said again.
“One more thing, Your Majesty. A message from the Luna Queen’s chambers. She sends her regrets and says she is unable to attend tonight’s dinner. She is… resting.”
I stopped.
“Is the queen unwell?”
“Her maid said she appeared distressed, Your Majesty. She hasn’t left her chambers since this afternoon.”
Since Lysara’s attack?
Since I’d asked the guards to arrest her?
Guilt tugged at my heart.
I dismissed the servant and stood in the corridor, the dining hall in one direction and the queen’s chambers in the other.
Why was I this bothered about the strange girl playing Esmira?
I hadn’t felt this much concern for the real Esmira when she was alive.
I shook my head as if to clear the thought and turned toward the dining hall.