Chapter 57

Stirling Vance

The cold rain fell hard against the stained-glass windows, but the thick oak doors of the abandoned map room kept most of the storm outside. Inside, the air smelled of old paper, damp wool, and the strong, sweet scent coming from her.

I stood a few steps away from her, water dripping from my heavy cloak onto the stone floor. My ribs still hurt where Callan’s blade had cut into my side two nights ago, but that pain meant nothing compared to the strange, electric feeling between us.

She stood beside the tall iron table, still wearing Prince Elian’s high-collared velvet tunic. Both hands rested flat on the wooden surface, and her knuckles had turned white from gripping it so tightly.

In the dim candlelight, she looked weak and fragile. She was small, pale, and almost ghost-like.

Anyone who didn’t know the truth might have mistaken her for a helpless person.

But I knew better now.

I reached inside my coat and pulled out the thick file I had printed from the underground security archives. It was sealed with wax. I threw it onto the table between us, and it landed with a heavy thud, like the sound of a coffin closing.

“The Sinks,” I said in a deep, rough voice that barely carried through the stone room. “Two nights before the Gala. Camera recording number forty-two from the underground security system.”

Elouera didn’t flinch. She didn’t reach for a weapon or pretend to be the weak, sickly prince she had fooled the rest of the court into believing she was.

Instead, she slowly raised her head. Her dark eyes met mine, sharp and cold as ice.

“You’ve been busy, Lord Vance,” she said calmly, without a trace of fear in her voice.

“You went straight into Vane’s hideout.” I stepped closer, my heavy boots scraping against the stone floor. “You examined Holden’s contract for the Night-bloom before anyone even placed the first burner in the Conservatory. You knew he was planning to trigger the heat. You knew he wanted to turn the Gala into a massacre.”

A small, dark smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

For just a moment, I caught a glimpse of the dangerous mind she had been hiding behind the prince’s innocent appearance.

“And yet, you didn’t bring Callan,” she said quietly, tilting her head as she studied me closely. Her eyes seemed to see right through me. “You didn’t bring the Empress’s guards either. You came here alone, in the dark, carrying a file that could get my head displayed on the southern gate by noon.”

She leaned forward slightly, narrowing her eyes.

“So tell me, Stirling. What do you want in return for your silence? Gold? Control over the Northern trade routes? Or do you expect me to fall to my knees and beg you not to expose me?”

A dark laugh escaped my chest before I could stop it.

“Beg?” I stepped closer until I was less than two feet away from her.

The warmth coming from her body hit me immediately. Her scent of wild honey and rain filled my senses, but there was something else about her that drew me in even more.

It was her brilliant mind. The terrifying way she had turned the entire empire into a game of chess, with every lord unknowingly playing by her rules.

“I don’t want your gold, Elouera,” I said roughly, my voice dropping lower. The desire in my chest had nothing to do with her Omega blood. It came from the extraordinary, dangerous woman standing before me.

“And I certainly don’t want you on your knees.”

I stretched out my hand and placed my large, rough palm on the table, just inches from her trembling fingers.

“Callan wants to lock you inside a golden cage and pretend he’s protecting you,” I whispered, my amber eyes fixed on hers. “Holden wants to destroy you like gunpowder to settle an old score.”

I leaned closer.

“But you… you’re planning to burn the entire court to the ground with your own hands, aren’t you?”

Her breath caught in her throat. For the first time, I saw a small but genuine flash of surprise break through her cold expression.

“I have three thousand heavily armed cavalry soldiers waiting outside the valley walls,” I continued, speaking slowly and firmly, as if making a dangerous promise. “I also have the security keys to every drain and passage in this palace.”

I held her gaze.

“I’m not asking you to make a deal with me, little bird. I’m offering you my army. Use my resources. Use my name. Let me help you take the Crown from the Empress.”

Silence fell between us. It was so heavy and tense that it felt like one wrong word could shatter it.

Elouera looked down at my hand before meeting my eyes again. Her chest rose and fell with slow, shallow breaths as she considered my offer. She knew how dangerous it was, and she was trying to decide whether she could trust me.

Slowly, she reached out and placed her small, pale hand over my knuckles.

But before she could say a word, the heavy iron lock on the map room door suddenly broke apart.

The thick oak doors burst open with a deafening crash, sending broken pieces of wood flying across the floor.

A cloud of dust filled the room as a dozen Royal Guards stormed inside, their swords drawn. They quickly surrounded us, trapping us in a circle of shining blades.

Then the Empress stepped through the doorway.

Her eyes burned with cold fury.

“Seize them both!” she shouted, her voice echoing through the room like a death sentence. “They are both guilty of high treason against the realm!”