Chapter 13: The truth behind Daphne poisoning

The days that followed blurred like mist on glass.

To the rest of the palace, Queen Daphne had recovered. She smiled, spoke softly, and took slow walks through the gardens under watchful guards. The poison had not claimed her body—but it had left a deeper wound in her mind.

Every sound now carried suspicion. Every glance was a possible lie.

And at the center of it all stood Rosa.

Rosa, with her sweet smiles and tender voice.

Rosa, who had wept for her, sat by her bedside, and whispered prayers when she thought no one watched.

Rosa, whose eyes sometimes lingered too long on Zerach… and whose hands never seemed entirely empty.

Daphne had learned to hide her fear behind grace. She had learned to act.

Each morning, she thanked Rosa for her care. Each evening, she let the girl braid her hair and hum lullabies from a past she didn’t remember. But her eyes—her quiet, careful eyes—missed nothing.

The queen of the demons had become a hunter in her own palace.

⸻

That evening, when the court had retired and the moon had risen over the marble spires, Daphne dismissed her attendants and slipped into the hallway. Her pulse raced with a mixture of fear and purpose. The corridors stretched long and dark, the air cool against her skin.

She knew Rosa’s habits by now.

Every night, after visiting the king’s study, the girl vanished for an hour. No one knew where she went. When asked, Rosa only smiled and said she prayed by the fountain for her late mother.

But Daphne had followed her once—quietly, from a distance—and discovered no prayers, no fountain.

Only shadows.

Tonight, she would follow again.

⸻

The halls were silent but alive—the kind of stillness that hummed with secrets. Daphne moved like a ghost, her pale gown brushing against the stones. Down the western stairwell, through the hall of mirrors, she caught sight of movement.

Rosa.

The young woman’s dark hair gleamed in the torchlight as she crossed the corridor, cloaked in midnight blue. Daphne stayed far enough that even a whisper would not betray her. Rosa moved with purpose, not the gentle grace she showed before others. Her steps were quick, certain.

She stopped before an old tapestry depicting the Horned King’s first conquest—the burning of the human kingdoms. Her hand pressed against the wall beside it.

A click.

The tapestry shifted slightly as a hidden door opened, revealing a passage that disappeared into darkness.

Daphne’s breath caught.

A secret passage—one even she, queen of the palace, had never seen.

Rosa slipped inside and vanished.

For a long moment, Daphne stood frozen. Her mind screamed to run back, to wake Zerach, to tell him everything—but her heart burned with a different fire. She had to know.

With trembling fingers, she lifted the tapestry and stepped into the shadows.

⸻

The air was cold and damp. The passage smelled of stone and dust, of secrets too long kept. Daphne moved slowly, her hand brushing the wall for balance as she followed the faint glow ahead.

It led her into a small chamber—hidden beneath the old wing of the palace. A single candle burned in the corner, and beside it stood Rosa.

And she was not alone.

A cloaked figure knelt before her, their voice a whisper like wind through thorns.

“…the poison failed.”

Rosa’s tone was sharp. “Because of you. You were to make it undetectable, quick. Instead, she lives—and now every eye is upon us.”

The cloaked one bowed low. “I’ll finish it—”

“No,” Rosa snapped. “Not yet. The king’s trust is fragile. We must wait. Strike again too soon, and suspicion will fall where it shouldn’t.”

Daphne pressed herself against the wall, heart pounding so loud she feared it would give her away. The candlelight flickered, painting Rosa’s face in gold and shadow.

Then Rosa’s voice softened—cold, almost tender.

“Let her believe she’s safe. Let him love her. The higher they climb, the harder they will break.”

The words struck Daphne like a blade. Her breath trembled, tears burning her eyes.

It was true. Rosa—the king’s daughter, her husband’s joy—wanted her dead.

And for a reason Daphne could not yet understand.

⸻

The figure rose, bowed again, and slipped through another door. When Rosa turned to leave, Daphne pulled back into the dark, her heartbeat hammering in her throat. She waited until Rosa’s footsteps faded before she dared to move.

She stumbled out the passage and into the moonlit corridor, gasping for air.

Her mind spun.

Rosa had poisoned her.

And the king—her beloved Zerach—did not know.

But how could she tell him now?

How could she stand before him and say, Your daughter tried to kill me?

Would he believe her? Or would love blind him to the truth?

⸻

When she returned to her chamber, dawn was already bleeding through the curtains. Zerach stood by the window, still in his dark robes, his eyes weary from sleeplessness. He turned the instant he heard her steps.

“Daphne,” he breathed, striding to her. “Where were you? I woke and you were gone.”

She froze, her throat tight. His concern was so raw, so real—it tore at her heart.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. “I went for air.”

He searched her face. “You shouldn’t walk alone. The halls aren’t safe.”

No, she thought. They aren’t. Not anymore.

He cupped her face in his hands, thumb brushing her cheek. “You are pale again. Promise me you’ll rest.”

“I will,” she said softly. Her lips trembled. “Zerach… if you ever had to choose between truth and love—”

He frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Nothing,” she murmured, forcing a smile. “Only that… I’m grateful you found me.”

He smiled faintly, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’ll find you again, in this life or any other.”

Her heart broke a little at the sincerity in his voice. Because she knew—soon, the truth would shatter that peace.

And when it did, the kingdom would bleed.

⸻

That night, as the palace slept, Daphne sat alone at her table. A single candle burned beside her as she wrote in her diary—her only safe confessor.

If I fall before I can speak, let this be found.

The poison was not chance. It was blood against blood.

And the dagger wears the smile of a daughter.

She folded the note and sealed it beneath her pillow.

Then she looked to the moon, her whisper breaking the silence.

“Forgive me, my love… but I must be the one to end this.”

And somewhere beyond the walls, Rosa smiled in her sleep.

Because the game had only just begun.