The grand ballroom shimmered beneath crystal chandeliers, every facet of light dancing off polished marble and gilded pillars. Musicians played a gentle waltz, but the queen’s patience had long since frayed—yet another night of diplomacy disguised as courtship.
Tonight’s suitors were particularly insistent, circling her like jeweled vultures. She dismissed most with a lift of her chin, a single cool glance—until one grew bold. Too bold.
The man stepped into her path, leaning far closer than etiquette—or sanity—allowed. “Your Majesty,” he purred, brushing his fingers over hers without permission, “surely you must consider a man who can match your—”
“Enough.” Her voice cut the air like a blade. She pulled her hand away, regal and unamused. “Return to your place before you forget yourself.”
Gasps fluttered through nearby nobles. The suitor’s face darkened, pride wounded, but he stumbled back under the force of her glare. The queen swept past him, skirts whispering, not sparing him a second thought.
High above on the balcony, half-hidden by velvet drapes, a pair of mismatched eyes watched everything with still, predatory calm.
Lyney did not move. He did not speak. He only observed.
His queen had spoken the warning. He would deliver the consequence.
Moonlight washed her chambers in silver stillness when the softest whisper of footsteps broke the quiet.
The queen looked up just as her door eased open.
Lyney slipped inside, closing it gently behind him. His gloves were off. His bow was absent. In his hands, a delicate porcelain tray—steam curling from a teapot fragrant with chamomile and something sweet.
“Your Majesty,” he murmured, voice low, velvet, too soft for the world outside her door. “A calming tea… I imagined tonight was exhausting.”
He approached her slowly, like a shadow returning home.
Up close, the faint, metallic scent hit her nose—subtle, but unmistakable. Blood, washed away quickly… but not perfectly.
His smile was warm. His eyes were anything but.
“No more interruptions,” Lyney whispered, setting the tea down before lowering himself in a graceful bow at her side. “I handled it.”
He glanced up at her then, expression soft, devoted… and a touch too pleased.