Chapter 71: Crown of Fire

The words carried through corridors, over banquet tables, even in the kitchens where servants scrubbed soot from their hands. And though I never encouraged them, I never silenced them either.

It was time.

I began with the guards.

Those who had stood beside me in the square, who had bled under my orders, who had seen me strike down serpents with my own hand. Their loyalty was already leaning. I only had to anchor it.

In the training yard, I walked among them as they drilled. Their salutes were sharp, their eyes alight.

“You fought with honor,” I told them, my voice carrying. “When shadows threatened to swallow our city, you stood firm. Remember this: a blade obeys the hand it trusts. And I trust you.”

Their captain bowed deeply, his voice fierce. “And we trust you, my lady. To the last breath.”

The oath was not shouted. It was whispered. But whispers are stronger than shouts when spoken in unison.

Next came the nobles.

I invited them not to the council hall, where Damien raged, but to