Chapter 8:A queen’s first move

The first morning of my marriage began with a list of names.

Not romantic names whispered between newlyweds. Not the names of people I hoped to invite to a celebration.

These were the names of Bloodfang officials, merchants, and servants who might help me reach my son.

I sat beside the window in my new chambers, dressed in a simple grey gown, with three sheets of parchment spread across the table. The crown Darius’s council had placed on my head yesterday rested beside an untouched cup of tea.

It was strange how quickly a ceremony could change a woman’s title without changing the things that mattered to her.

I was now the Luna of Nightthorn.

But Kael was still in Bloodfang, sleeping beneath a roof where his father had decided that his mother no longer belonged.

I dipped my pen into the ink.

The first name was rejected almost immediately. The man had served Lucien’s father for years and would never risk his position for me. The second belonged to a merchant whose loyalty shifted with the direction of the wind.

The third made me pause.

Mara.

Kael’s former nursemaid.

She had cared for him during his first two years, back when Lucien still pretended that our little family mattered more than his ambition. Mara had been kind to me even after the first cracks appeared in my relationship with Lucien.

I had not seen her since the night I was told to leave Bloodfang.

I had no idea whether she still worked in the palace, but she was my best chance of finding someone who could tell me how Kael was truly doing.

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in.”

Darius entered, already dressed in black trousers and a dark shirt, his silver insignia fastened at his collar. He glanced at the papers before looking at me.

“You’ve been awake for a while.”

“I have a son to get back.”

“I assumed you would say that.”

He approached the table, but instead of reaching for the papers, he waited for me to offer them. It was a small courtesy, yet one I noticed.

I turned the list toward him.

“I need reliable information from inside Bloodfang. Not rumors from merchants or reports from spies who have never met my son. I need someone who knows Kael.”

His gaze settled on Mara’s name.

“Who is she?”

“His former nursemaid. She was with him when he was very young. If she is still employed at the palace, she might know whether Lucien has changed his routine or restricted Kael’s movements.”

Darius pulled out the chair opposite me.

“And if she has been dismissed?”

“Then I find someone else.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It isn’t simple. It is necessary.”

A faint smile touched his mouth.

“You will fit into this territory better than my council expects.”

“I am not trying to fit into your territory. I am trying to make it impossible for anyone to dismiss me.”

His smile disappeared, replaced by something more thoughtful.

“Then we should begin by giving them a reason to take you seriously.”

He reached into the inner pocket of his coat and placed a folded document on the table.

“What is this?”

“An invitation.”

I opened it.

The seal belonged to the neutral territory of Eldermere, a small settlement governed by a council that had maintained trade relations with both Nightthorn and Bloodfang for generations. The invitation was for a winter harvest gathering scheduled in two weeks. Representatives from neighboring territories would attend.

Including Bloodfang.

I looked up at Darius.

“You knew about this?”

“The invitation arrived before our wedding. I had intended to send a representative, but the circumstances have changed.”

“You want me to attend.”

“I want you to decide whether attending serves your interests.”

I studied the document again.

A public gathering on neutral ground would make it harder for Lucien to deny me access without attracting questions. He could refuse to let me enter his palace, but refusing to acknowledge his son’s mother in front of neighboring leaders would make him look insecure.

And Lucien hated appearing weak.

“If I go, he will know I am coming for Kael.”

“He already knows.”

“Then he will prepare.”

“Of course.”

I leaned back in my chair.

“Would you accompany me?”

“I am your husband.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No,” he said, his expression almost amused. “It is a fact. My answer is yes.”

I watched him carefully.

“And if Lucien provokes you?”

“Then I will decide whether responding benefits Nightthorn.”

“Not whether it satisfies your pride?”

“Seraphina, I rule a territory surrounded by people who would celebrate my mistakes. If I allowed pride to govern every decision, I would have lost my crown years ago.”

There was no arrogance in his voice, only experience.

I found myself believing him.

“Good,” I said. “Because I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I need you to make sure I have the opportunity to fight them myself.”

“Then that is what I will do.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

The silence between us was different from the one I had shared with Lucien during the final months of our relationship. With Lucien, silence had become a punishment, a wall designed to make me question what I had done wrong.

With Darius, silence seemed to be a space in which neither of us had to pretend.

It was unfamiliar.

I turned back to the papers before I could think too much about it.

“Can you send a discreet message to Mara?”

“I can have one of my trusted messengers deliver it.”

“No threats. No promises of money unless she asks for assistance. I don’t want her risking her position because she thinks I expect her to betray Lucien.”

Darius nodded.

“You want information, not blind loyalty.”

“Exactly.”

He rose and moved toward the door.

“Seraphina?”

I looked up.

“Your first council session as Luna begins in an hour. The quartermaster will present the territory’s winter supplies, and the council expects you to observe.”

“Observe?”

“That was their suggestion.”

I folded my hands.

“And what do you suggest?”

“I suggest you do whatever you believe a Luna should do.”

With that, he left me to decide.

The council chamber was colder than my rooms.

Long windows lined the eastern wall, allowing pale sunlight to fall across the dark wooden table. Eight council members were already seated when I entered. Their conversations stopped, though not all of them stood.

I recognized the scarred elder from the night of my first encounter with Darius’s curse. His name, I had learned, was Councilman Garrick. He watched me with the same guarded expression he had worn since my arrival.

At the head of the table, Darius remained standing.

He did not announce me as though I were a guest.

Instead, he pulled out the chair beside his own.

“My Luna,” he said simply.

I sat.

The quartermaster, a broad-shouldered man named Harlan, unrolled a map and began discussing the territory’s winter stores. Grain supplies were adequate, but several villages near the northern passes had reported delayed deliveries. Two supply wagons had returned with damaged wheels, and the roads were becoming difficult to travel.

The report sounded ordinary until I noticed the figures.

“Why are the northern villages receiving fewer supplies than the southern ones?” I asked.

Harlan looked at me.

“The northern roads are more difficult to navigate, Luna. We have to account for the risk of losing a wagon.”

“I understand the risk. But the figures show that the northern villages have larger populations than some of the southern settlements receiving more grain.”

“They are also closer to the border,” another councilman added. “We cannot risk sending our best supplies into an area where Bloodfang scouts have been seen.”

I glanced at Darius.

He offered no answer on my behalf.

Good.

“Then we should change the delivery schedule,” I said. “Send smaller wagons more frequently, escorted by enough guards to discourage interference. If we wait until the roads are easier, the villagers will have to survive on reduced supplies for weeks.”

Harlan frowned.

“That will require additional men.”

“How many?”

He checked his figures and named a number.

I studied the map.

“Move two patrols from the southern trade road. The merchants there have reported no disturbances, and the road is well guarded already. Keep one patrol in place and assign the other two to escort the northern deliveries until the worst of the weather passes.”

A councilman tapped his fingers against the table.

“You have been in Nightthorn for less than a week. You cannot possibly understand all the risks involved.”

“No,” I replied. “I don’t understand every risk yet. That’s why I am asking questions before making a decision.”

I met his gaze.

“But I do understand what happens when leaders make decisions from comfortable rooms and forget that the people beyond their walls have to live with them.”

The chamber grew quiet.

I had not intended to speak about Lucien, but the memory of Bloodfang’s grand halls and the servants who struggled to keep the outer settlements supplied rose uninvited in my mind.

A ruler could have a full treasury and still fail the people who depended on him.

I would not make that mistake.

Darius finally spoke.

“The proposal is reasonable. Harlan, revise the schedule and bring the updated figures to me by tomorrow.”

The quartermaster bowed.

“Yes, Alpha.”

The council moved on to the next matter, but the atmosphere had changed. Some members still looked skeptical, while others had begun to listen instead of merely waiting for their turn to object.

When the session ended, Garrick remained behind.

“You are not afraid of offending people,” he observed.

“I am afraid of making the wrong decision. Offending someone who disagrees with me is a smaller concern.”

“Words are easy, Luna. Nightthorn has survived because its leaders understand the price of mistakes.”

“And it will continue to survive because its leaders are willing to correct them.”

His weathered face revealed little.

“You speak as though you intend to remain here.”

I stood.

“I intend to remain wherever my son needs me to be.”

For the first time, something resembling respect flickered in his eyes.

“Then I hope you understand what you have married into.”

“I understand that I married a man with a dangerous reputation, a difficult council, and a territory that needs attention.”

“And the curse?”

I held his gaze.

“The curse is Darius’s burden to explain when he is ready. It is not a reason for me to stop living.”

Garrick studied me for another moment before inclining his head.

“We shall see, Luna.”

He left without another word.

I wasn’t offended.

Respect would be earned through time, not demanded because of the crown on my head.

By late afternoon, I had reviewed the revised supply schedule and sent a message to the quartermaster asking for updates on the northern villages.

It was not the sort of work I had imagined doing when I was younger. Back then, I had thought being Luna meant standing beside an Alpha, attending ceremonies, and wearing beautiful clothes while others handled the difficult decisions.

Lucien had encouraged that belief.

It had been convenient for him to have a mate who trusted him enough to let him make every decision.

I would never surrender that much of myself again.

A knock sounded at my door.

Darius stood outside, holding a small silver tray.

I stared at it.

“Have you taken to bringing food to women you marry?”

“Only when they forget to eat.”

“I ate breakfast.”

“You ignored lunch.”

I glanced at the tray. There was a bowl of warm soup, sliced bread, and a plate of roasted vegetables.

“I was busy.”

“So I noticed.”

He placed the tray on the table, then looked at the papers scattered across it.

“You handled the council well.”

“They were testing me.”

“They test everyone.”

“Did you always let them challenge your decisions?”

“Not always.” He paused. “I learned that silencing people does not make them loyal. It only teaches them to hide their objections until they become dangerous.”

I looked at him more closely.

For a man feared throughout the territories, Darius seemed to understand the difference between authority and control.

Perhaps that was why his warriors followed him despite the rumors surrounding his curse.

I sat and picked up the spoon.

“Thank you for supporting my proposal.”

“You made the proposal. You should receive the credit.”

“Your council might not appreciate hearing that.”

“My council has survived worse things than a Luna who knows how to read a supply report.”

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

It was brief, almost reluctant, but genuine.

Darius watched me with an expression I couldn’t quite interpret.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

“That is not a convincing answer.”

“I was wondering when you last laughed.”

The spoon paused halfway to my mouth.

I could have given him a sharp response. I could have told him that my laughter was none of his concern.

Instead, I lowered the spoon.

“I don’t remember.”

His expression changed, the amusement fading into something quieter.

“I hope that changes.”

He did not reach for my hand or try to turn the moment into something it wasn’t. He simply pulled out the chair across from me and sat down while I ate.

For the first time since arriving in Nightthorn, I didn’t feel as though I had to fill every silence with plans for revenge.

That frightened me more than I wanted to admit.

Because I could not afford to become comfortable enough to forget why I had come here.

Kael was still waiting for me.

And Lucien was not the sort of man who would surrender what he considered his property simply because I asked politely.

That evening, a messenger arrived with news from the border.

The Bloodfang scouts had withdrawn from the northern passes.

No confrontation. No warning. No explanation.

Darius read the report once and handed it to me.

“Do you think Lucien is preparing for war?” I asked.

“I think Lucien wants us to wonder what he is preparing for.”

I set the report down.

“He knows about our marriage. He knows I am not going to disappear quietly. If he believes I will come for Kael, he may try to move him somewhere I cannot reach.”

“Then we must be careful not to show him our entire plan.”

I nodded.

“The harvest gathering is still our best opportunity.”

“Yes.”

I looked at the sealed invitation on the table.

Two weeks.

Two weeks until I might stand in the same place as my son. Two weeks until I could look into his face and show him that I had not abandoned him.

I would not promise myself that Lucien would allow me to approach him. Hope could be as dangerous as fear when it made a person careless.

But I could prepare.

I could gather information, strengthen my position, and make sure that when the opportunity came, I would be ready.

Darius rose to leave.

“Seraphina.”

I turned toward him.

“You don’t have to prove your worth to every person in this territory before you are allowed to call it home.”

The words struck closer than I expected.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I looked away.

“I am working on it.”

He accepted the answer without pressing me.

At the door, he paused.

“I will have the messenger sent to Mara tonight. If she is still in Bloodfang, we should receive an answer within a few days.”

“Thank you.”

He inclined his head and left.

I returned to the window, watching the last light disappear behind Nightthorn’s distant mountains.

For the first time, I had a plan that extended beyond surviving the next day.

I had a position, resources, and people who might listen to me. I had a husband who respected my choices, even when he did not understand them.

But I had no guarantee that any of it would be enough.

Lucien had spent years teaching me that love made a woman weak, that a mother’s devotion could be used against her, and that power belonged to whoever was willing to take it.

He had been wrong about one thing.

I had never been weak.

I had simply trusted the wrong man.

Now, I would make certain that mistake never cost me my son again.

And when I finally stood before Kael, I would not come as the discarded mate Lucien had thrown away.

I would come as a woman no Alpha could order to leave.