Her grief had transformed her. Hardened her. She had become relentless—a queen cloaked in vengeance. She tore through every clue, followed every trail, spilled blood with her own hands if it meant getting closer to the truth. Her enemies began to whisper of her not as a ruler, but as a storm.
Yet after all the years of searching, she found nothing. The truth eluded her. Because the one she was looking for… had always been by her side.
It was Ernest.
The boy who had once followed her through gardens. The man who had stood at her side through war and loss. The friend who offered her support while hiding the truth.
He had colluded with the dark forced, completely deviating from the path of spiritual power. He had mastered the dark power to the extent that he had now become their lord ruling over them.
Earnest had watched Zenobia weep and rage and kill for answers he already held. He had whispered counsel while burying the past beneath car
