Selene’s POV
Every fortress hides a second one inside it — not of stone, but of people: servants who listen, soldiers who gossip, advisers who trade loyalty for safety.
The trick is learning which walls to lean against and which will crumble when you touch them.
That morning, I decided it was time to test mine.
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The kitchens were always busiest at dawn. The smell of bread and boiled herbs rolled through the corridors, softening the air that had grown heavy with frost.
I walked in unannounced, hood drawn low. The servants froze mid-motion, the rhythm of work breaking into startled stillness.
“Go on,” I said quietly. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Of course, no one could. But a few began moving again, cautious, as if afraid the sound of a knife on a cutting board might offend me.
A girl
