The Lecture, The Li, and The Fallout
1644 Words
You’d think after outing a corrupt provincial mayor and having your entire proposal publicly accepted by the King, a girl might get a break. A nap. A strong drink. Something.
Instead, I got a diplomacy lecture and a polished chair that felt like it was designed to punish spine alignment.
All five of us sat side by side, facing a long, narrow table lined with dusty legal tomes and historical scrolls that smelled like ancient arguments.
Across from us stood Ambassador Verrent, a skeletal man with a voice like rusted parchment. He had one expression: unimpressed.
“Diplomacy,” he began, “isn’t about being right. It’s about making sure no one starts a war over being wrong.”
Selene leaned forward eagerly, her platinum curls practically glowing under the chandelier light. Genevieve glanced sideways at me and stifled a yawn. The other two girls—Mariana and Lissa—pretended to take notes, though Lissa’s hand hadn’t moved her pen in twenty minutes.
Ambassador Verrent droned on. Treaties. Border disputes. How to keep noble families from stabbing each other over dowries and irrigation rights.
I should’ve been bored.
But something was off.
Every so often, I felt eyes on me—sharp and assessing. And not from Verrent.
From Lissa.
Her gaze lingered just a second too long. Her smile had an aftertaste. And when the session finally ended and the others filed out to stretch their legs or gossip over tea, I made a quiet detour of my own.
It wasn’t hard to follow her.
One of the older gallery wings had been left empty during the renovations. I crept quietly past columns of dust-slicked marble and velvet drapes stiff with disuse. Then I heard it.
Voices.
Low. Urgent.
I moved closer—close enough to see Lissa, standing beside a cloaked figure whose posture screamed “not from here.” His accent was thick. Rough. One of the outer provinces.
“…The Crown’s falling apart,” he was saying. “All it needs is the right push.”
“Not yet,” Lissa hissed. “They’re still watching me. Especially after Carolina’s little stunt.”
“Then get her removed,” he snapped.
“I tried. She doesn’t make mistakes. But I have something better—I’ve paid off one of the cleaning staff. He’s supposed to claim she’s been stealing confidential documents from the Queen’s library. They’ll boot her from the Ascension in disgrace.”
I stepped back before I could be seen, blood roaring in my ears.
It was one thing to be ambitious.
Another to flirt with rebellion.
But sabotage?
That was war.
It didn’t take long for things to unravel.
Because the staff member she tried to bribe?
He reported everything.
I was summoned—by name—to the King’s study an hour after supper.
Kael was already there, standing beside the hearth like he was trying not to break something. His hands were clenched.
The King didn’t rise.
“Miss Stanton,” he said, not coldly, but not warmly either. “We’ve been made aware of a… situation.”
He motioned to the steward—a man I recognized from the evening cleaning shift. Nervous. Honest eyes. He bowed so low I thought his spine might snap.
“Go on,” the King said.
The steward cleared his throat. “Your Majesty… Prince Kael… I was approached by Lady Lissa two nights ago. She offered me coin to deliver a message to the royal guard stating that Lady Carolina had been stealing restricted papers.”
“Did she say why?” Kael asked, voice tight.
“She said it would ‘balance the odds.’ That she needed the girl gone.”
The King didn’t speak for a moment.
Then: “And yet you came forward.”
“I did, sire. Lady Stanton was kind to my daughter once, when she was sick in the lower halls. Gave her her own coat. I remember.”
Kael’s eyes flicked to me.
My mouth was dry.
“Very well,” the King said, rising. “You’ve done right by the Crown. You will be rewarded.”
To me, he turned with fire behind his gaze. “We cannot allow rebels to plant seeds in this court. Nor can we tolerate deception in a contest meant to shape a Queen.”
He looked to Kael. “Remove Lady Lissa from the palace. She is no longer a candidate. And see that she’s interrogated thoroughly.”
Kael didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Father.”
As the steward was led out and Kael followed, I remained rooted in place.
The King glanced back. “You have many enemies, Miss Stanton.”
“It would seem so, Your Majesty,” I said.
“Make sure you make better ones.”
“He departed, leaving me in the flickering firelight.
* * *
Kael
“There is no place for traitors at court.”
I didn’t wait for the guards.
I escorted Lissa out myself.
She didn’t scream or beg. Didn’t offer some last-minute denial or excuse. She walked beside me in cold, calculated silence, the hem of her rose-colored gown dragging like an afterthought behind her.
We didn’t speak until we passed through the gates of the royal wing, and even then, she only stopped because I did.
“You tried to bribe a staff member,” I said, voice low. “You lied about Carolina stealing from the Queen. You met with a known rebel sympathizer. And you thought no one would notice?”
Her lip curled. “She’s not like the rest of us. She’s dangerous.”
“No,” I said, stepping closer. “She’s better.”
The words burned in my throat. Not because they weren’t true—but because of how deeply I meant them.
Lissa’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve already chosen her.”
“I’ve chosen honor,” I said. “Something you never had.”
Two guards stepped forward at the end of the corridor.
“You’ll be taken to the southern holding chambers until interrogation,” I said flatly. “After the fate of your family and you’re self will be decided.”
She paled.
“You think she’s going to survive this?” she hissed. “She’s made enemies—real ones.”
I stared at her. Hard. “So have I.”
And then I turned and walked away.
I found Carolina exactly where I thought she’d be—out on one of the upper terraces, looking over the starlit sprawl of the capital.
She didn’t flinch when I stepped beside her. Just let the silence stretch between us like something familiar.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” I said.
“I’m never alone for long,” she replied. “You always show up.”
There was no accusation in her voice. Just an observation.
A truth.
“I removed her,” I said. “Myself.”
“I know.”
She didn’t look at me, but I could feel her pulse in the air—steady and sharp, like the edge of a sword pressed against silk.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I admitted. “Keep fighting. Keep standing after everything thrown at you.”
Carolina finally turned.
And for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
“Because I was never given the luxury of stopping,” she said quietly. “Because if I did, they’d win.”
Her words hit harder than any sword.
I stepped closer. “You’re winning, Carolina.”
She arched a brow. “Am I?”
“You’re still here.”
She studied me for a long moment, then asked, “Do you believe I could be Queen?”
The question was so direct, so raw, it startled me.
“Yes,” I said. “But not because you want it. Because you’re the only one who hasn’t pretended to be something else to earn it.”
Something shifted behind her eyes. Something unreadable.
And then she did the most dangerous thing a girl in her position could do.
She smiled.
Carolina turned her gaze back to the city lights, but her expression had softened—just slightly.
Her voice was lower when she spoke again. “You shouldn’t say things like that. About me. About the crown.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me wonder what I’d do to deserve it,” she said. “And how far I’d go to keep it.”
I stepped closer, drawn like a tide pulled to shore. “You haven’t even started yet.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
And I couldn’t stop myself.
I reached for her—slowly, like she might vanish if I moved too fast. My hand found her waist, the other lifting to brush a stray curl behind her ear.
She didn’t move away.
Didn’t blink.
Just looked up at me with eyes that had already weathered more storms than most soldiers.
And in that moment, under a sky scattered with stars and danger and choices neither of us had fully made—I kissed her.
A deep, consuming kiss that tasted of heat and defiance and a thousand things I hadn’t dared say.
She kissed me back.
Fierce. Certain. Like this—this—was the one thing she didn’t need to second-guess.
Her hands curled into the front of my coat. Mine tightened at her waist. The rest of the world dropped away.
There was no kingdom.
No court.
No threat waiting behind velvet drapes.
Just her.
And the taste of a future I hadn’t let myself imagine.
When we broke apart, breathless, I kept my forehead against hers.
“You scare the hell out of me,” I whispered.
Carolina’s fingers brushed my chest.
“Good,” she murmured.
- Writer
