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Chapter 8 - Truth in the Shadows

The throne room was filled with soft music and soft lies.

Lord Velyr stepped forward in full court dress, a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth. His tone was smooth, respectful… calculated.

"My Queen," he said, bowing low before Empress Myreiya, "I humbly request a small plot of land—west of the river fields. I intend to build a sanctuary for magical scholars… a place of peace and research."

Myreiya raised an eyebrow. "The western fields? That's close to the water lines of the lower villages."

Velyr nodded. "Exactly why I chose it. The land is fertile. It will serve both knowledge and growth."

She studied him for a moment.

Then nodded once. "I'll allow it. But… if I smell even a hint of treachery, the soil will drink your blood, not your seeds."

Laughter echoed softly through the court. Velyr bowed again, smiling wider.

But Mirror—standing quietly near the marble columns—watched it all.

And felt fire under his skin.

That night, he stood near the stables, his silver eyes reflecting moonlight, his thoughts louder than his footsteps.

"If I don't show her now... that land will become a grave."

He saw her returning to her chambers and stepped forward.

"Myreiya."

She turned, robes swaying. "Mirror? Why are you out here?"

"I need to show you something. Please. Come with me."

Her eyes sharpened. "What happened?"

He didn't answer.

Just walked.

She followed—silently.

They moved beyond the palace walls, past the watchmen, through old stone tunnels beneath the ground.

He led her to a hidden grate carved into the old cliffs—above the land Lord Velyr had asked for.

They crouched behind black ivy vines.

And then… they heard him.

Lord Velyr. Standing in a clearing with two cloaked men.

"…The Empress has granted the land. You have three days to bury the core," Velyr said. "Once the bomb is placed and detonated during the ritual, Kael'theron's western shield will collapse. The capital will be open."

Myreiya froze.

Her breath caught.

The words hung in the cold night like knives.

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

Mirror looked at her, quietly.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he said.

She turned to him, eyes wide—filled with fire and betrayal.

But not at Mirror.

At Velyr.

"He stood in my court. Smiled in my face. And planned to kill my people."

She drew her dagger, hand trembling not from fear—but fury.

"He will pay."

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