DamonThe numbers stared back at me, neat and sharp and final.I tapped the edge of the parchment with the corner of my ring, the metallic clink loud in the otherwise quiet chamber. The candidate standings.An elegant way of saying who was rising, and who the court had begun to forget. And who I was
She was in four separate reports this time. Two from nobles praising her composure, one from the royal scribes noting her popularity spike in the northeastern packs, and one from an anonymous court whisper suggesting she was "already operating as if she’d won."Zane’s reaction didn’t fade. If anythi
LilaI wasn’t supposed to be in the servants’ corridor, not this late, not alone, and definitely not lingering near the warm sliver of light spilling from the kitchen doors.But I’d heard them. A pastry maid and one of the older chefs, speaking in hushed tones over cooling racks and sugar-glazed par
By the time I returned to my room, dawn had fully broken. The palace buzzed with early activity, none of it touching me.I curled up on the edge of my narrow bed, the scent of caramel still clinging to my fingertips.After a short nap, I took the long way to the council wing. I told myself it was to
LilaI knew something had shifted the moment I stepped into the hall.It was in the silence that followed my footsteps. The way the girls at the end of the corridor stopped talking the second I came into view. A glance. A smirk. One of them leaned into the other’s ear like they couldn’t help themsel
LilaThe trial room smelled like butter and cinnamon—warm, rich, deceptively comforting.Long tables stretched across the marble floor, already dusted with flour. Each station bore a small placard with a candidate’s name and a challenge directive: Create a dessert that reflects your roots.I stared
LilaThe gardens had never looked more curated.Even the air felt arranged—light, perfumed with blooming roses and honeysuckle, touched with just enough breeze to stir the silk banners strung between marble columns. Golden sunlight filtered through carefully trimmed topiaries and glittered against p
DamonThe garden party was a performance. And I was its unwilling centerpiece.Music hummed from the far end of the garden—just loud enough to distract, not so loud it could mask the real conversations happening in whispers behind jeweled fans.I stood beside the advisory circle, a cluster of nobles
I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “You’re manipulating the trials. The council.”Asher tilted his head. “Big accusation.”“You said it yourself.”“I said nothing that would hold in a courtroom,” he replied, stepping closer. “But you… Lila… you’ve got secrets of your own, don’t you?”My heart stu
LilaThe gardens were different at night.They breathed slower. Softer. The scent of blooming jasmine drifted thick on the air, curling around the trimmed hedges like a secret. Moonlight spilled in silver pools across the stone pathways, catching on the edges of statues and fountain rims.The usual
Now, sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, catching on the edges of the candle wax I hadn’t cleaned up and the corner of parchment still poking out from beneath my pillow. I shoved it back under to hide it from myself.I dressed slowly, my hands a little clumsy as I pulled on a soft, neutral
LilaThe candle had burned down to a puddle, flickering low enough that shadows danced along the walls of my room, stretching long and uncertain.Unable to sleep, I sat cross-legged on the floor, the marble cool against my legs even through the thin fabric of my nightdress. The original letter reste
LilaThe candle on my nightstand had burned down to a stub, its flame trembling like it, too, wasn’t sure whether it should keep going.I lay on my side, fully dressed atop the blankets, my hair still damp from rinsing off the bathhouse steam. The air in my room had cooled, but heat still clung to m
I sat on one of the low, cushioned benches by the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, fingers absently tracing the embroidery on my gown. The moisture in the air clung to my skin, kissed my throat and collarbone, but couldn’t soften the burn sitting in my chest.The ranking hadn’t changed everything
LilaIt was like Emma had become a ghost. I searched for her everywhere but after an hour it was clear she wasn’t in any of the usual places, or any unusual ones either.So I settled into the archives to do a little light brooding and maybe learn a little more before the next trial, whatever it woul
LilaThe package was small—no larger than a folded napkin—but it gleamed like treasure in Emma’s hands.We sat in the lounge, the windows cracked to let in the early light. Morning wind carried the scent of fresh lemon blossoms from the courtyard, soft and sharp all at once. My tea sat cooling on th
DamonThe garden party was a performance. And I was its unwilling centerpiece.Music hummed from the far end of the garden—just loud enough to distract, not so loud it could mask the real conversations happening in whispers behind jeweled fans.I stood beside the advisory circle, a cluster of nobles