Bailey’s POV
The council chamber smelled faintly of parchment and polished wood, the kind of place where appearances mattered more than truth. I entered with my mask flawless—hair smoothed, gown impeccable, smile warm enough to disarm. The rogue’s shadow clung to me still, but no one here would ever know how the night had burned.
The queen mother sat at the head of the table, regal and expectant. Lola hovered nearby, her golden hair catching the light, her smile practiced. Maryelle was present too, pale but steady, her eyes sharper than anyone gave her credit for. Phantom himself sat rigid, his crown abandoned on the desk beside him, his silence heavy.
I moved with precision, laying the documents before the queen mother. “Your Majesty, Lola has been invaluable. She’s quick, efficient,
