The palace hadn’t slept since the courtyard trial.
Not really.
Not when the scent of scorched blood still clung to the marble halls. Not when whispers stirred behind every gilded door. Not when the Council’s fire pit failed to kill me, and instead, fed something even worse.
Something they couldn’t control.
Couldn’t predict.
Couldn’t see.
And now, they were unraveling.
In the highest chamber of the Council tower, nine robed figures stood in furious silence around a basin of black glass. The flame inside it flickered, and then guttered out completely.
"She should have burned,” one hissed.
“She did,” another spat. “And she rose from it.”
The eldest, draped in violet and bone, slammed her fist on the table. “This isn’t rebirth. This is a mistake. An abomination we let survive.”
“She
