The queen’s table glittered with crystal and menace. We were seated too close to the throne, too far from the exits. My wine glass had been refilled three times before I realized I hadn’t taken a single sip.
Arabella, radiant in court ivory with silver threading, leaned toward me as if to share a secret. “You’ve made yourself very interesting lately, cousin,” she said, voice sugared silk. “Almost… distracting.”
I smiled like a blade being sheathed. “How dull I must’ve been before.”
“Dull women don’t summon revolutionaries to their door under the guise of trade envoys.”
My pulse tightened, but my face didn’t move. “And you don’t find that useful? Someone else to blame when the archives go missing?”
She blinked, a brief flicker of calculation. “Oh, Vivian. You’ve finally learned how to
