Chapter Seventy-Eight: The House Of Masks

The house had grown quieter since the summit.

Not in the obvious sense. Guards still moved through the halls, weapons slung across their shoulders; Julio’s voice still echoed from Lucien’s office when he argued strategy late into the night. But the silence felt different now. Intentional. Studied.

Emilia felt it in the way conversations stopped when she entered the room. In the way some glances lingered too long', or not long enough.

Someone inside these walls was betraying Lucien.

She could feel it.

But if there was even a chance that the traitor had ears in the right places, she couldn’t risk tipping her hand. Not yet.

So she smiled. Observed. And started playing the game in silence.

She began her mornings earlier, walking the hallways before Lucien even stirred from bed. A silk robe wrapped tightly around her, bare feet on cold marble, she’d pass by the kitchens, the training yard, the armory. Listening. Watching.

The staff had learned to acknowledge her now, but just barely.

Espec