The Emberlight palace never slept.
Even in its silence, there was movement. Footsteps echoed softly through arched halls, torches crackled against stone, and whispers carried on the velvet air. I had learned quickly that working nights meant seeing things most others were never meant to.
I was scrubbing the base of the council chamber stairs, palms raw, when the outer doors burst open and the queen’s retinue swept in. We all dropped our gaze as trained. No one was allowed to look her directly in the eye.
Queen Mira walked like she floated, her gown of silver thread trailing behind her like mist, her golden circlet glinting with moon-cut rubies. She did not speak. She did not need to. Her presence alone was a command.
There were five of us working in the corridor that evening, cleaning
