Chapter 106 The Traitor Speaks II
Chapter 106 The Traitor Speaks II
The realization spread like winter on glass. The conspiracy never needed magic. It needed trust.
Evelyne leaned back, exhausted. “Then Mira found out.”
Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “She joined them?”
“No.” A bitter smile. “She blackmailed them. She found proof certain council members fabricated trials. She offered a bargain: they remove her enemies quietly, and she buries their crimes.”
Cael’s jaw tightened. “So neither side trusted the other.”
“They didn’t need to. They only needed each other.”
The room felt airless.
Mira hadn’t built her faction on strength.
She built it on secrets. Every elder with something to hide became an ally she controlled. Every forged execution became another chain. Every silence, another victory.
Evelyne reached for Elara. “There’s more. When Seraphine tried to warn you about the Shadow Council, she wasn’t talking about hidden rulers.”
Elara frowned. “What?”
“There was never a separate council. The Shadow Council was a name. A name for those in the official council who met in secret. They hid behind myth because people fear invisible enemies.”
She swallowed. “But the real danger always sat at the council table.”
The words landed like thunder. No ancient order. No hidden society. Just respected leaders behind locked doors, pretending to serve the realm.
Cael folded his arms. “Names.”
“I don’t know them all. I kept fragments. Enough to survive.” She met Elara’s eyes. “But I know this: the person who framed me isn’t just working with Mira.”
Elara’s pulse jumped. “They’re using her.”
Even Cael’s expression shifted.
“Mira thinks she’s leading this war.” Evelyne’s laugh was weary. “She isn’t. She’s winning battles. Someone else arranges the battlefield.”
She reached for the notebook. “There are pages in the back. I never showed anyone.”
Elara turned to folded sheets hidden in the binding. Maps. Private correspondence. Council schedules. Then a coded ledger. Payments marked only with initials. E.M. V. R. L. Each entry ended with the same symbol: a black feather.
Rowan leaned closer. “What does it mean?”
“It marks payments to the informant inside your household,” Evelyne said.
Elara stopped breathing. “My household. Not the council?”
“No. The council receives information. The household provides it.”
Cold certainty filled the room. Someone inside Elara’s inner circle had fed the conspiracy from the start. Someone she saw every day. Someone who knew her routines. Her fears. Her private words with Cael. Her plans. Her doubts. Every vulnerable moment.
Evelyne met Elara’s eyes. “They framed me because I recognized the handwriting.”
Elara whispered, “You know who it is.”
Evelyne nodded. Before she could speak, the oak door exploded inward. One of Rowan’s soldiers staggered across the floor, bleeding from his side. “My Lady… They’re inside…”
Rowan rushed forward. “Who?”
The soldier looked at Elara. “The assassins… They’re wearing… our uniforms.”
Torches flickered. Footsteps approached. moved first. Shadows spilled across the stone, living smoke. Rowan drew steel, blocking the doorway. The wounded guard collapsed, crimson spreading. The footsteps stopped then three measured knocks.
A calm voice drifted through the broken door. “My Lady… forgive the interruption.”
Rowan frowned. “I know that voice.”
Captain Aldren stepped into view, snow on his cloak, sword sheathed. One of Rowan’s most trusted.
“We’ve secured the corridor,” he said, bowing.
Cael didn’t move. “Have you?”
Aldren looked up. “Lord Cael?”
“You brought too many soldiers.”
Rowan glanced back. Twenty guards stood in formation. Too many for rescue.
“We thought extra protection wise,” Aldren said, smiling faintly.
“No,” Cael said. “You thought extra witnesses useful.”
The smile vanished. Aldren’s sword flashed free. Half the guards turned toward Elara.
“Protect the Queen!” Rowan shouted.
Too late.
The “guards” attacked their own.
Steel rang. The corridor erupted. One assassin lunged for the bed. Cael’s shadows struck first, hurling the man into stone hard enough to crack it. Another slipped past Rowan, blade aimed at Evelyne.
Elara moved on instinct. Silver flame burst under the attacker’s feet, chains of fire throwing him back. The chamber became violence. Swords. Magic. Smoke.
Evelyne tried to rise. “No… They’ve come for me again…”
Another assassin reached her. Elara threw herself forward, light shielding the strike. The spell shattered, driving her back, but Cael was already there. He caught the man’s wrist, twisted. The sword clattered.
“You chose the wrong room,” Cael said.
Shadow swallowed the assassin. When it cleared, he lay unconscious.
The remaining attackers hesitated. Rowan’s loyal soldiers overwhelmed them. Silence returned. Furniture lay broken. Blood stained stone. Three assassins lived, bound in enchanted chains. Aldren knelt among them, hatred in his eyes.
Elara approached. “You betrayed your Queen.”
“No,” he laughed. “I served the real future.”
She crouched level with him. “Who sent you?”
“You already know. Mira.” His smile widened. “I wasn’t talking about Mira.”
Cold settled over the room. Aldren looked past her. “No ruler notices the servant carrying the crown.”
Elara turned. Evelyne stared past the assassins at the doorway. Lysandra stood there with fresh guards.
Evelyne’s trembling hand rose. “Not… not her…”
Relief flickered in Elara then Evelyne’s finger shifted past Lysandra and toward Rowan..The room froze. Rowan didn’t move. Neither did Elara. Neither did Cael.
Evelyne’s voice was barely air. “It was… his office… where I first saw…”
Blood filled her mouth.
Cael was beside her. “Evelyne. Stay with us.”
She clutched Elara’s sleeve. “Don’t trust… the man… who always arrives… first…”
Her hand fell. Rowan stood motionless, disbelief on his face. “No… My Lady… I didn’t..”
A horn sounded outside. The fortress shook with marching feet.
A soldier sprinted in, pale. “My Lady!”
“What now?” Elara demanded.
“The electors… they’ve begun the vote for the Empty Throne.”
Elara’s blood ran cold. “Without me?”
“They said… the Queen has abandoned the kingdom.”
Then the second blow. Another messenger burst through, carrying a torn crimson banner. “My Lady… Lady Mira has entered the Hall of Crowns… She demands to be recognized as the only lawful candidate.”
Every eye turned to Elara.
The vote had begun. Her rival stood in the throne hall and the dying witness’s last words had cast suspicion on one of Elara’s oldest commanders.
Guilty or framed, there was no time to know. The traitor was still free and before the next bell finished ringing, the Witch Queen might lose her throne and the man she could no longer bear to doubt.