Chapter 22 – A Web of Whispers
The gilded cage of Erydon was a city of layers, and Don's company began to peel them back with quiet, deliberate precision. Their strategy, born from the revelation in the Queen's garden, was now in motion.
The Royal Conservatory
The air in the Royal Conservatory was thick with the scent of exotic, alien flora—gossamer-thin silver petals from the Storm Elves' homeland and deep indigo flowers that bloomed only in moonlight. It was a place of serene beauty, and one of the few locations in the palace where a private conversation could be masked by the gentle sound of waterfalls and rustling leaves.
Don and Caria found Princess Athina near a display of glowing moon orchids, just as her handmaiden had discreetly arranged. Athina's calm, scholarly demeanor was a stark contrast to the urgency of their meeting.
"Your request was bold," Athina said, her voice a low murmur as she seemingly admired a flower. "To meet so openly after your… charged audience with my father."
"Boldness is required when the threats are not," Don replied, his gaze sweeping the ornate glass ceiling. "You warned me of a reckoning. My aunt provided me with its source."
Caria stepped forward slightly, her eyes meeting Athina's. "This is not about challenging the Crown, Your Highness. It is about preserving it from a cancer within. Queen Yssara conspires with Earl Tidor—a man who uses a creature of shadow as his vanguard. This threatens the stability of the entire kingdom, including your father's throne."
Don then produced a small, unassuming cylinder of dark wood. He offered it to Athina. "The original scroll my aunt gave me was too dangerous to carry. This is a perfect transcription, copied by Lady Caria's own hand."
Athina accepted it, her fingers brushing his. She unrolled it just enough to see the familiar coded phrasing and the damning details. A shadow passed over her face, a flicker of pain and grim confirmation. "I had my suspicions," she whispered. "My mother believes in a pure, ordered world. Your family's 'chaotic' flame has always been an affront to her sensibilities. I did not realize her disapproval had curdled into treason."
She tucked the scroll into her sleeve. "You have taken an immense risk in showing me this."
"It is a risk we believe is warranted," Don said simply. "We need allies who see what is truly at stake."
"You will have them," Athina confirmed, her resolve hardening. "Lord Valerius of House Aetheria is in the city. He is a good man, but a cautious one. He fears my mother's influence but has never had proof. Give me two days. I will arrange a meeting. He will be your first test."
The Streets of Erydon
Leinara Veyeb had never felt more at home than when she was hunting. In the Mire, she hunted beasts. Here, in the sprawling, indifferent capital, she hunted a far more dangerous prey. Dressed in the drab, functional clothing of a city courier, she moved through the crowded streets, a phantom in plain sight.
Her target was Lyra, the Queen's favorite handmaiden. From a rooftop overlooking the palace's servant entrance, Leinara and a fellow Shadow Hunter watched the woman's routine. For two days, it was predictable. But on the third, there was a deviation.
Lyra left the palace not in a carriage, but on foot, cloaked and veiled. She moved with purpose through the merchant's quarter, her path a winding, deliberate route meant to lose any followers. But Leinara was no ordinary follower. She anticipated the woman's path, moving along parallel streets and rooftops, never getting too close, but never losing sight.
The handmaiden finally slipped into a dimly lit apothecary shop, its windows filled with murky jars and bundles of dried herbs. The sign above the door read "The Serpent's Coil." Leinara signaled her partner to watch the front as she scaled the adjoining building, finding a grimy window that looked down into the shop's back room.
Through the distorted glass, she saw Lyra meet with a man whose face was shadowed by a deep hood. The handmaiden passed him a small, sealed pouch. The man, in turn, handed her a single, dark, oddly-shaped vial before melting back out a rear exit. The exchange was swift, silent, and deeply unsettling.
Leinara now had a location, a contact point, and a pattern. The Queen's web had a new, visible thread.
The Caravan's Heart
Dvrik's challenge was one of logistics. Getting a message out of Erydon without it passing through the Crown's hands required more than just a fast horse. Royal patrols monitored the main roads, and every raven leaving the city rookery was accounted for.
He found his solution in the sprawling caravan grounds outside the city walls. Posing as a hired guard looking for work, he moved among the merchants, listening. He found what he was looking for: a caravan of stone-masons from the Griffor territories, men whose loyalty to Lord Varant was etched as deeply as the lines on their faces.
That night, over a mug of cheap ale, Dvrik sat with the caravan master. He didn't speak of queens or treason. He spoke of a "dispute" between lords, and the need for a "private message" to reach both Earl Dunnel and Lord Varant, a message concerning the safety of their children in the capital. He sealed the coded scroll within the handle of a heavy stone-hammer, a tool no royal guard would bother to inspect.
"This hammer is a gift for my father, a master mason himself," Dvrik said, pressing a heavy purse of coins into the man's hand. "See that it reaches him with all haste."
The caravan master, a man who understood the weight of unspoken words, simply nodded. "The mountains remember their friends, lad. We'll see it home."
The Council of Four
Late that night, they reconvened in their quarters, the doors sealed. The air crackled with their successes.
"The message is away," Dvrik reported. "Our fathers will know of the Queen's treachery within the fortnight."
"And the Queen's serpent has a nest," Leinara added, sketching a layout of the apothecary shop. "She meets with a hooded contact there. The vial she received... I fear it may be poison."
Caria nodded grimly. "And Princess Athina is arranging a meeting with Lord Valerius. If we can sway House Aetheria, other neutral houses may follow."
Don listened to it all, processing the new threads of their growing web. They had successfully launched a three-pronged counterattack from within the enemy's walls. They were no longer just reacting. They were shaping the conflict.
He pointed to the spot Leinara had marked on her map. "The handmaiden has a routine. A contact." A cold, determined glint appeared in his eyes. "She believes she is safe in the serpent's coil."
He looked at his friends, his war council. "Let's show her just how wrong she is."