Cassie sprinted down the corridor, her boots echoing against the cold stone. Behind her, the sounds of the banquet hall battle faded, replaced by the unsettling silence of the deeper palace. Smoke clung to the air, a mixture of the fire she had started and the destruction spreading through the maze of hallways.

  She moved with purpose, her mind racing. The ward anchors. That has to be it.

  The noble’s cryptic warning wasn’t enough to act on, but she had to find something—anything—that could stop the kingdom’s collapse. Her grip on her blood-smeared blade tightened as she pressed onward.

  A tremor rippled through the floor, shaking loose flecks of stone from the ceiling. Cassie slowed, listening intently. Faint footsteps echoed ahead, hurried but uncoordinated. A small, cruel smile tugged at her lips. Got you.

  She slipped into the shadows, her body moving instinctively, her breaths controlled and silent. The palace corridors twisted and turned like a maze, but Cassie could feel the trail narrowing. Every muffled step, every breath echoed louder in her ears.

  The footsteps stopped. Cassie pressed her back to the wall, peering around the corner. There, in a dim alcove, the noble crouched low, their dark silhouette half-obscured by the faint glow of a distant torch. They weren’t alone—a second figure loomed beside them, their features hidden by the flickering light. The two were locked in a tense conversation, their whispers too faint to make out.

  Cassie didn’t hesitate. She stepped into the light, her blade steady and her voice cold. “Going somewhere?”

  The noble froze, their wide eyes betraying their panic. The second figure bolted without a word, disappearing into the maze of corridors. Cassie ignored them; her focus was singular.

  With a swift motion, she lunged forward, catching the noble off-guard. Their dagger clattered to the ground as she twisted their arm and shoved them against the wall. Her blade rested against their throat, her breathing steady despite the adrenaline roaring in her veins.

  “You’re going to talk,” she said, her tone low and dangerous. “Now.”

  The noble sneered, but their bravado faltered under her icy gaze. “You’re wasting your time,” they spat. “It’s already too late.”

  Cassie pressed the blade closer, the cold steel biting into their skin. “How are they targeting the wards?”

  The noble’s defiance flickered, and they let out a bitter laugh. “The Velkan Consortium already owns this kingdom. You think this little skirmish will change that?”

  “I’m not asking about the Consortium,” Cassie snapped. “The wards. What are they doing to them?”

  The noble hesitated, their jaw tightening. Finally, with a resigned sigh, they muttered, “The ward anchors. They’ve been compromised. And when they collapse...” They let out another hollow laugh. “There’ll be nothing left to protect you.”

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  Cassie’s heart clenched at the words, but she didn’t let her expression waver. She wasn’t ready to let them off so easily. “Where are the anchors?”

  Before she could get an answer, a distant crash reverberated through the halls. Shouts echoed from the banquet hall, growing louder with each second. Cassie cursed under her breath. Whatever was happening back there couldn’t wait.

  She dragged the noble through the corridors, their struggles growing weaker with each step. The distant sounds of battle echoed faintly in her ears, joined by the ominous groans of the palace under siege.

  Smoke thickened the air, carrying the acrid tang of burning tapestries and splintered wood. The noble muttered occasional protests, but Cassie silenced them with a sharp yank on their arm and a glare that promised no patience.

  As she neared the banquet hall, the sounds of fighting grew louder, but they lacked the earlier ferocity. The clang of steel against steel was interspersed with the barked orders of guards and the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground. Cassie adjusted her grip on the noble, forcing them forward as she rounded the final corner.

  The scene before her confirmed her suspicions—the tide of battle had turned.

  Guards swarmed the remaining attackers, their blades and spears overwhelming the dwindling resistance. Blood streaked the polished floor, mingling with shattered glass and debris. The air was thick with the acrid stench of sweat, blood, and burning wood.

  Theodoric stood near the center of the hall, his sword hanging at his side, blood dripping from its edge. His posture was tense, his sharp eyes scanning for any lingering threats.

  Nearby, Dietrich leaned against the remnants of an overturned table, his breathing heavy but controlled. He wiped his blade clean with a torn scrap of cloth, though his hands trembled faintly from exertion.

  At the center of it all stood Queen Lyssandra, her radiant presence dimmed but unbroken. The golden light that had shielded her throughout the battle flickered faintly as she lowered her hand. Sparks danced in the air as the magical shield dissolved, leaving her shoulders slightly slumped but her gaze unwavering.

  Theodoric, ever quick with a quip, raised an eyebrow as he stepped toward her. “Dramatic as always,” he remarked dryly, his tone laced with both affection and exasperation.

  Lyssandra offered a faint smirk, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from her face. “Theatrics are never wasted, my dear,” she replied, her voice tinged with humor despite the weariness that crept into her posture. But as she took a step forward, her knees buckled slightly.

  Theodoric was at her side in an instant, steadying her with a hand on her arm. For a moment, his expression softened, a rare glimpse of the concern he usually masked beneath sarcasm and bravado.

  Before anyone could speak further, Cassie entered the hall, shoving the defeated noble ahead of her. The room’s attention shifted immediately, the nobles who had survived the ordeal drawing closer, their curiosity and unease palpable.

  “They talked,” Cassie said, her voice cutting through the tense silence. She pushed the noble forward with a hard shove, forcing them to their knees. “The Velkan Consortium is funding this. And they’ve sabotaged the ward anchors.”

  Theodoric’s jaw tightened as the weight of her words settled over the room. He exchanged a tense glance with Dietrich, whose usual skepticism flickered across his face like a shadow.

  “And you just happened to extract this confession?” Dietrich asked, his tone carrying its usual edge of mistrust. Despite the barb, there was something unspoken beneath his words—a quiet acceptance of the gravity of Cassie’s revelation.

  “Not easily,” Cassie shot back, her glare unwavering. She glanced down at the noble, her voice hardening. “But there’s more. They said the meetings are being coordinated from within the palace itself.”

  A heavy silence filled the hall as her words sank in. Even Lyssandra, who had recovered enough to stand without Theodoric’s support, frowned deeply at the implication.

  Theodoric finally broke the silence, his tone grim. “We don’t have time to waste.” His gaze swept over the group, lingering on Cassie, then Dietrich. “Find the heart of this conspiracy—before the kingdom falls.”