Vira was sharpening her blade by the hearth.
The soft shhk, shhk of stone on steel was the only sound in the room, save the quiet flicker of flames and the occasional crack of an ember.
She hadn't spoken a word since dropping the heads on my floor.
Not to me.Not to Evelyne.Not even to herself.
But her silence was not peace.It was a warning.A blade drawn just shy of skin.
I sat by the window, studying the city beyond—the towers silhouetted under the dying moon, the distant glow of watchfires from the noble districts. Somewhere out there, my enemies were already scheming, whispering about our movements, counting their swords.
And now, one of those movements sat quietly by my fire, polishing her killing tool like it was a sacred rite.
Evelyne was less composed.
She paced near the corner, her arms folded tightly across her chest, tension lining her spine like drawn wire. Her eyes never left Vira.
"You killed three of the Council's trade envoys," Evelyne said finally."Publicly. Brutally. Do you have any idea what kind of attention that brings?"
Vira didn't look up."Good."
Evelyne's voice sharpened."Good? You think this helps us? We're trying to work through the cracks in the court. You're painting targets on our backs with blood."
Now Vira looked up. Slowly.One eye pale and clouded by the scar. The other dark, gleaming.
"You ever seen what they do in the South?" she asked, her voice like flint on stone."The Council. The nobles. The princes who call themselves merchants."
Evelyne didn't answer.
Vira stood. She walked toward Evelyne—not fast, not threatening, but with weight in her steps. Each footfall a statement.
"I saw them sell a village's women to slavers," she said."Watched them brand children like cattle. And when I spoke up—just spoke—they slit my sister's throat in front of me."
She pulled back the scarf from her collar.
Beneath it was a raw, ropey scar that stretched from her jawline to her collarbone.
"They tried to do the same to me."
The room went still.
I didn't interrupt. This wasn't my moment.
Evelyne's eyes faltered, just for a breath.Her voice came out quieter. "That doesn't mean you're free to jeopardize our plans."
Vira smirked. It was a cruel thing—twisted by old pain."Your plans? You think this kingdom's going to fall because of noble whispers and polite betrayals in backrooms?"
"Yes," I said, stepping forward."Because those whispers control the knives. They command the armies. They build the stories the people believe."
Vira looked at me. Then at Evelyne."Then burn the stories. Burn the people who write them."
Evelyne clenched her jaw. Her fingers twitched as if fighting the urge to slap the woman.But instead, she turned away.
"She's going to get us all killed."
"Maybe," I said quietly."But she's not wrong."
They both turned to me.
"I'm not building a rebellion to replace one crown with another," I said."I'm not playing for the throne."
Evelyne blinked. "You're not?"
Vira just stared.
I walked to the fire. Let its warmth touch my fingers, even as the words chilled my chest.
"I'm playing for the roots," I said."The systems beneath the throne. The bloodlines beneath the sigils. The secrets they keep buried so deep even they forget them."
I turned toward them.
"I don't want to be King of Ashes. I want to remake the world before it forgets we ever existed."
Silence followed.
Vira nodded once.Evelyne looked at me like she'd never seen me before.
Before anyone could speak again, a knock came at the side door.
Not the front.Not the hall.The side.
The knock was coded. Three fast raps, a pause, then two more.
One of ours.
I moved fast.Slid the latch, opened the narrow panel, and found a boy no older than twelve trembling outside in the night.
His clothes were muddy. His face pale. In his hands was a scroll, sealed with black wax.
I took it."Did anyone see you?"
He shook his head. "No, my lord. I came through the gutters. Like you said."
I reached into my belt and handed him two silver crowns."Get something warm. Hide for a few days. If anyone asks, you were never here."
He ran.
I shut the door, broke the seal, and scanned the letter.
As my eyes moved across the page, the color drained from my face.
"What is it?" Evelyne asked.
I handed it to her.She read it quickly, frowning.
Then her lips parted.
"…They know."
Vira looked between us."Who knows what?"
"The King's Watch," I said."They intercepted one of our dead drops to the Crimson Hawks."
"That's not possible," Evelyne said."The drop zone was covered. Warded. And the contact—"
"Dead," I cut in."Found strung up in the market square this morning. No insignia. No name. Just a sign hung around his neck."
I swallowed. The memory of it still stung."A sign that read: Monsters breed in the dark. We bring the flame."
Vira's grin was vicious."Finally, they show teeth."
"This isn't a game," Evelyne snapped. "The Watch doesn't warn you. If they're letting us know they found the drop, it means—"
"They want to draw us out," I finished."Set the tempo. Force our hand."
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then Vira tossed her blade onto the table."Then we don't wait. We hit back."
Evelyne looked at me.And for once, she didn't argue.
"Not openly," I said."We can't afford a war on their terms."
I walked to the map laid out on the table. Pointed to a small, unnamed village near the border.
"This is where we strike. A Watch relay outpost. Quiet. Forgotten. But every message between here and the capital runs through it."
Vira grinned."A fire in the dark."
Evelyne leaned over the table."If we do this, there's no going back."
I met her eyes."I burned my bridges a long time ago."
She didn't flinch.Didn't smile.
She just nodded.
And for the first time in a long time, I saw something in her eyes I hadn't seen since we were children, when we'd first met under a moonlit veranda full of spies and poisoned wine.
Conviction.Rage.And something worse.
Hope.
This was how empires cracked.Not with sword and fire.But with three broken peoplestanding in a forgotten room,planning the end of the world.