I arrive at the Queen's quarters without sending word. No royal summons. No pleasantries. Just purpose.
The guards say nothing. They simply bow and let me pass, as if my silence speaks louder than any formal request could.
The door opens to her vast sitting room; regal, overdecorated, cold but what I see stops me in my tracks.
The Queen is reclined on a velvet chaise, eyes half-closed, while Shea, dressed entirely in white, circles her slowly with a smoking bowl of incense. Low chants ripple from her lips; ancient, eerie, like something from a forbidden temple rite.
The scent hits me first; sharp, metallic, almost bloody. My presence cuts through the room like a blade.
Shea falters. Her gaze flicks to me with a quiet panic, and without a word, she retreats into the adjoining chamber, incense and all.
The Queen sits up with a hiss of silk and malice. Her glare slices across the room like glass.
"What are you doing here, Celeste?" she demands. "How dare you barge into my chambers without an announcement?"
I step in fully, regal in my bearing, each stride deliberate. "I didn't know I needed permission to see my queen. My mother-in-law."
"Cut the nonsense." Her voice sharpens. "Say what you came to say and leave."
I glance around the room, noting the lingering smoke, the disturbed calm. "Don't I at least get offered a chair? A cup of tea? Or is it so hard to show basic courtesy to your daughter-in-law?"
Her mouth twists. "You may be Cassian's wife, the Crown Princess of Matica but that does not make you family. Not to me. You're not welcome here. And you never will be."
The words don't shock me anymore. Not after all she's done. Still, the sting of them finds my chest.
"Why?" I ask, my voice quiet but firm. "Why do you hate me with such fervor?"
She rises, slowly, like something ancient and bitter uncoiling. "For defying me. For disrespecting me. For challenging my orders at every turn. I curse the day I ever thought you fit to marry my son. The day I offered you that deal to save your pathetic parents."
The venom in her tone takes me back a step, but I hold steady.
"I came because I noticed how frail you looked in the Grand Hall," I say, ignoring the blade in her words. "You seemed unwell. I thought it wise to check in."
Her laugh is dry and brittle. "I'm not your concern. Don't pretend to care."
I arch a brow. "I should care. You're the mother of my husband. But you… you didn't care when I was half-dead after the carriage accident. Not a single visit. Not even a note. I nearly bled out alone while you hosted dinners."
"You want pity?" she spits. "Sympathy?"
"No," I say flatly. "I want the truth. You despise me, and for what? For surviving? For being stronger than you expected? Or is it that I remind you that even queens can't always control the story?"
Her hand curls into a fist, knuckles white.
"Get out," she says through clenched teeth. "Get out of here, Celeste. And don't ever come back."
I stare at her, long and hard; at the hollowness beneath her grandeur. Her once-imposing figure now a shadow wrapped in robes and resentment.
There was a time I feared her. Craved her approval. I wanted to be seen. But now?
Now I see her clearly; a woman consumed by her own hunger for control, now watching it slip from her fingers.
I turn without another word and walk out, head high, heart steady.
Let her curse the day she met me.
One day, she'll remember it as the day the future queen first stood her ground.
Back in my quarters, I can't sit still.
It's not the Queen's words that haunt me; those I've long grown calloused to. It's what I saw. The burning incense, the low guttural chant rolling off Shea's tongue like some ancient hymn. The Queen lying there, still as death, eyes fluttering as though in trance.
What was that? I whisper to myself as I pace.
No answer. Just the soft hiss of the wind brushing past the balcony curtains.
I pour myself water, but my hand trembles so much I drop the cup. It shatters against the marble floor; a sharp, echoing sound. I curse under my breath and step over the shards.
I summon Esther.
Cassian is away, attending to state matters in Zuba Province. If he were here, I would've run straight into his arms, buried this fear beneath his steady voice and unwavering gaze. But he's not.
So I do what I always do, reach for the one person I trust to pull apart truth from shadows.
Esther arrives within minutes, breathless but composed. She knows my summons at this hour isn't for pleasantries.
"Close the door," I say.
She does. I lead her into my inner chamber and shut the curtain behind us. The silence in this room is heavier than usual, like it too demands answers.
"What's wrong, My Lady?"
I sit on the edge of my chaise, fingers laced tightly together. "I went to the Queen's quarters."
Esther raises a brow. "You went there… alone?"
I nod. "Without notice. I wanted to see her. To speak with her."
"And?"
"She barked. Threatened. Nothing new," I mutter, shaking my head. "But that's not what shook me."
Esther leans forward. "Then what?"
I lock eyes with her. "She was lying on a lounge… and Shea was there. Dressed in white from head to toe, holding a bowl of burning incense and moving it around her. She was chanting something I couldn't understand. Not any dialect I know. And when I walked in, they froze. Shea disappeared into the inner room with the incense, and the Queen sat up like she'd been caught."
Esther stiffens. "Are you saying… they were performing some sort of ritual?"
"I don't know what else to call it."
She's silent for a long moment, digesting it all. Then finally, "Did the Queen say anything about it?"
"Not a word. Just demanded I leave. But Esther…" I lean forward, lowering my voice, "What if this isn't the first time? What if this has been happening under our roof for years?"
Esther frowns. "You think Cassian knows?"
I shake my head slowly. "No. He wouldn't allow it, would he? He's devout, faithful to the Temple Laws. This…whatever this is… it didn't look like anything blessed by the Order."
Esther's voice is a whisper now. "You think it's sorcery?"
"I think," I say carefully, "that whatever I witnessed… it didn't belong in a royal chamber."
Esther pulls her wrapper tighter around herself, her face tense. "And Shea…? You've always said something felt off about her."
"Yes," I snap. "She's not a maid. She doesn't serve. Doesn't report to the palace steward. No ledger has her name listed under palace wages. She floats around the Queen like a shadow, always there but never questioned."
"Yes," Esther nods. "I have been trying to find out who she was."
"And you couldn't," I whisper. "Which in itself is a red flag."
Esther folds her arms, thinking hard. "You think she's… some kind of spiritualist? Or worse?"
I close my eyes. "I don't know. But I intend to find out."
Esther's eyes widen. "My Lady, if there's sorcery involved, you could be in danger. The Queen, she already hates you."
"I've lived with her hatred since the day I married Cassian," I say bitterly. "If there's more to it than just contempt, then I deserve to know. And if Shea is more than she appears, I need proof."
Esther places her hand on mine. "Then we'll find it. Quietly. I'll continue to dig, starting with the kitchen staff, see if anyone has noticed Shea taking special food, or strange items in and out. We'll track her movements. Watch who she meets with."
"Thank you," I breathe, the knot in my chest loosening slightly.
We sit in silence for a while. The candle flickers between us, its flame dancing like it knows secrets I don't.
A chill runs down my spine, but I square my shoulders.
The Queen's curse may have been spoken in venom, but something darker is brewing beneath her words.
And I'll unearth it, whatever it is.
Even if it means unmasking the shadow beside her.