Chapter 57

The explosion ripped through the eastern district just as the sun began to rise. A deafening blast, followed by the sound of shattering stone and screams that carried through the morning air. Smoke curled into the sky, thick and acrid, staining the horizon.

Aeliana bolted upright from her bed at the tremor beneath her feet. For a heartbeat, she thought it was another assassination attempt-until she heard the distant cries of soldiers and the frantic clanging of alarm bells.

She was already moving before the guards arrived at her door. By the time she reached the main hall, the corridors were alive with the echoes of rushing boots, orders shouted in clipped, urgent tones. Something had happened. Something worse than whispered betrayals and hidden knives.

She found Tharx standing on the balcony overlooking the palace grounds, his fists clenched at his sides. His shoulders were rigid, his breath slow and controlled in a way that meant he was barely keeping his fury in check. Beyond the fortress walls, the city was in chaos.

"What happened?" Aeliana asked, her pulse still pounding from the shock of the blast.

Tharx's voice was like ice. "A strike against my rule."

Aeliana followed his gaze to the east. Smoke still curled from the rooftops, and from this distance, she could see the bodies-the broken remnants of Tharx's soldiers lying among the rubble.

Her stomach twisted. "How many?"

His jaw flexed before he answered. "Too many. Including General Horath."

She exhaled sharply. Horath had been one of Tharx's last truly loyal generals. His death wasn't just a loss-it was a message.

And then, as if to confirm her fears, a horn blast echoed through the streets below. Not a warning horn, but a declaration.

A challenge.

Aeliana's blood ran cold.

Lord Draxis had finally moved into the open.

The throne room was in an uproar by the time they entered. Nobles shouted over one another, their fear barely contained. Some clung to desperation, calling for action, while others-those whose loyalty had already begun to wane-saw opportunity in the destruction.

Lord Kaelrith stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Your Majesty, this cannot be ignored. Lord Draxis has declared openly that you are unfit to rule. He rallies his forces even now, emboldened by those who have grown tired of war."

Tharx turned his head slightly, the tension in his body barely leashed. "Then let them come. Let them see what happens to traitors."

Kaelrith hesitated, then inclined his head. "And the council? Many are already questioning your leadership. The arrests have unsettled them."

Tharx's gaze darkened. "Then perhaps they should be more afraid."

Aeliana could see it happening. The fracture. The breaking point that would turn his enemies into a true army.

Tharx would not bend. He would not compromise. He would crush.

That night, Aeliana found him in the war chamber, standing over a map of the empire, hands braced against the table. She didn't hesitate.

"You can't fight this with force alone."

He didn't look up. "I have no patience for this argument."

"Then listen anyway." She stepped closer. "Draxis has been preparing for this. He's not alone, Tharx. You saw the court today. Some of them will side with him. Others will wait to see who wins."

Tharx straightened, finally turning to her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with barely contained rage. "And what would you have me do, Aeliana? Negotiate? Appease them?"

"No," she said, holding his gaze. "Be smarter than them."

His silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken conflict. Aeliana felt the weight of his frustration, his exhaustion-but also his fear. Not fear of losing. Fear of weakness.

Finally, he exhaled. "Tell me what you've learned."

Aeliana hesitated for only a second before speaking. "I met with Vaelkor today. He's been tracking the movements of Draxis's forces."

Tharx tensed at the mention of the scholar. "And?"

She took a slow breath. "He's certain. Someone in your council is feeding Draxis information."

Tharx's expression darkened. "Who?"

"We don't know. Not yet. But Vaelkor says the way Draxis is moving-how he strikes exactly where it will cause the most damage-this isn't just a guess. It's guidance. Someone is orchestrating this from within."

Tharx turned away, fingers curling into fists. "A traitor."

"Yes," Aeliana said quietly. "And they're close."

The fire in the hearth crackled between them. For a long moment, neither spoke. Then, finally, Tharx murmured, "Then I will burn them out."

Aeliana exhaled, knowing there was no stopping him. Tharx did not investigate traitors. He destroyed them.

The thought made her uneasy.

Later that night, Aeliana sat in her chambers, replaying the conversation in her mind. She knew Tharx would move swiftly-too swiftly. If she wanted to find the real conspirator before he executed half the court in retaliation, she would have to work fast.

She reached for her goblet, lost in thought.

Then she froze.

A strange smell. Faint, but unmistakable. Bitter.

Aeliana's heart pounded. Carefully, she set the goblet down.

A test.

She turned, scanning the room. The flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows against the stone walls, and for the first time in weeks, she felt watched.

Someone had been in her rooms.

Someone had tried to kill her.

Aeliana's mind raced. This wasn't just about removing Tharx anymore. Someone wanted her dead.

She forced herself to breathe, to push away the sickening realization that if she had been distracted-if she had not been careful-she would already be dead.

She needed to warn Tharx.

She pushed to her feet, moving toward the door, but before she could take more than three steps, it slammed open.

Tharx stood there, his face like carved stone, his eyes wild with fury. He took one look at her, then at the untouched goblet on the table, and he knew.

His silence was more terrifying than his anger.

Aeliana had seen Tharx furious before. She had seen him rage, destroy, break men without lifting a weapon.

But she had never seen this.

Slowly, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. When he spoke, his voice was low, dangerous.

"This is no longer a rebellion." His hand curled into a fist at his side. "This is war."

And this time, Aeliana knew-he wouldn't stop until his enemies were nothing but dust.