Chapter 6 The Night Before The Trial

The dormitory chamber hummed with quiet energy, though the hour was late. Moonlight pooled across the polished floors, and the girls' soft voices bounced gently off marble and gold.

Amara sat cross-legged on her bed, brushing her curls with lazy strokes, a smirk playing on her lips. "Tell me that wasn't the most deliciously intimidating thing you've ever seen," she said.

Neria giggled as she hold her pillow in between her legs her hair tucked softly behind her head

Lily looked up from her mirror. "He didn't even raise his voice."

"That's what made it hotter," Amara giggled. She deepened her voice and narrowed her eyes:

"Did I ask you to speak?"

Her tone was low, exaggerated, and dramatic.

Lily burst into laughter. Even Neria, tucked in her corner, let out a quiet breath of amusement.

But Calista didn't smile. She stood at the foot of her bed, arms crossed, her gold robe flowing behind her like a curtain of pride.

"You think it's funny?" she said, tone sharp. "That girl disobeyed a direct instruction from the Queen Mother. She embarrassed herself-and us."

"It was just a compliment," Amara shrugged.

Calista scoffed. "And now she's gone. Rules are rules. If you can't follow them, you don't deserve the crown. Honestly, I hope none of you are as reckless."

Her gaze slid across the room, briefly touching Lily and Amara before settling on the mirror. She adjusted her necklace with precision.

"I've trained for this my entire life," she said, voice rising with each word. "My tutors were the finest. I've mastered the art of diplomacy, voice control, court history. I can dance, speak eloquently, and host foreign delegates in three languages. I will be queen. Not because I want to be. But because I was raised to be."

Neria gave her an unreadable look. Lily remained quiet, brushing her hair slowly.

Amara yawned loudly. "Boring."

She stood, leaned over, and pecked Lily on the cheek. "Night, darling. Big day tomorrow. Gotta figure out what useless skill I can make look important."

She turned to the others. "Try not to dream too hard about His Cold Highness."

Lily smiled faintly, though her thoughts were far away.

⸻

Meanwhile...

In the throne room, King Raven stood before a towering arched window, his silhouette cast in sharp shadow by the moonlight pouring through the glass.

Below, the palace gardens slept in velvet darkness. The air smelled of lilies and smoke.

Behind him, footsteps echoed softly.

Ace, his advisor and lifelong friend, approached without announcing himself.

"She's different," Raven murmured.

Ace stepped beside him, gaze following Raven's out toward the gardens. "Which one?"

"The girl," Raven said. "Curvy. Light skin. Long dark hair. Blue eyes like frozen water."

"Ah. The beauty in burgundy," Ace smirked. "You noticed her, then."

Raven didn't respond immediately.

"I don't know her name," he said finally. "But she looked at me like she wasn't afraid."

"You liked that."

"I didn't dislike it."

Silence passed between them.

"You know you're not obligated to fall in love, Raven," Ace said. "You just need to choose a bride."

Raven's jaw tensed. "It's tradition. Binding. I can't undo it without tearing the court apart."

"Still, you've avoided this for years."

"I've had other matters," Raven replied. "War. Borders. Rebuilding the council."

Ace raised a brow. "And now?"

Raven's fingers curled around the window's edge. "Now... I wait. And watch."

⸻

The Morning of the Trial

The palace bells had yet to ring when the door to their chamber swung open with a creak of finality.

Standing there was Mistress Irena, the highest of the palace maids-tall, severe, and draped in grey and gold robes that signaled her rank. Her silver hair was pulled tight, not a strand out of place.

"Up," she said simply, her voice smooth as polished stone. "You are to prepare for breakfast with the Queen Mother. After which, your first trial will begin."

Groans echoed lightly. Amara flung her pillow over her face. Calista immediately sat upright like a soldier reporting to duty.

Mistress Irena's gaze swept over each of them before lingering on Neria, who sat unusually still, fingers twitching slightly beneath her blanket.

Lily noticed it.

There was something strange in Neria's face-something almost calculating, masked by a quiet smile.

Mistress Irena turned. "You have one hour. Look your finest."

Then she left, her soft slippers silent against the floor.

The girls exchanged glances.

"I wonder if the Queen Mother eats mortals for breakfast," Amara muttered.

Lily said nothing.

Her eyes were still on Neria.