The rumors did not begin loudly.
They never did.
They slipped through the palace the way shadows did.
Quiet.
Unnoticed at first.
A servant pausing too long in a corridor.
Two guards lowering their voices as someone passed.
A message carried from the outer gates that lingered longer than it should have.
By the time anyone tried to stop them
they were already moving.
“They say the Queen hasn’t woken.”
“No one has seen her.”
“The twins… have you noticed? No cries in the night.”
“I heard one of them didn’t survive.”
“I heard neither did.”
“And they’re hiding it.”
The words changed with every telling.
Twisted.
Stretched.
Sharpened.
Some said Lyra was still unconscious.
Others said she had died and the palace refused to announce it.
Some whispered the twins were not whole.
