The halls of the royal palace were lined with opulence—gleaming gold trim on high arches, intricate tapestries telling tales of Malas’ long history, and guards at every threshold. The court bustled with whispers and political maneuvering, none suspecting that one of their own was not who they seemed to be.
Celeste adjusted the hem of her borrowed uniform, her enchantment ensuring she appeared as nothing more than a dutiful attendant. The disguise was seamless, her features altered and her aura dimmed to blend perfectly among the palace staff. Weeks of careful observation had brought her here, embedded in the King’s inner circle, where secrets lay waiting to be uncovered.
Already, she had learned of the King’s growing paranoia—his distrust of his council, the fissures forming between powerful families, and the quiet murmurs of rebellion at the kingdom’s edges. Every piece of information was a thread to unravel the tapestry of Malas’ strength.
But gathering knowledge was not enough. Celeste’s task demanded more. She would subtly manipulate decisions, pit advisors against one another, and exploit every weakness until the court’s foundation cracked. The King, for all his power, would find himself surrounded by enemies within, and when Marcus’ Night Court moved to strike, Malas would crumble from the inside.
Celeste carried herself with grace as she entered the chamber where the royal council convened. She had only moments to deliver a message to the King’s closest advisor—a small note seeded with misinformation meant to stir distrust between him and another noble. Her magic kept her movements imperceptible to wary eyes.
The night’s work had only begun.
Celeste adjusted the hem of her borrowed uniform, her enchantment ensuring she appeared as nothing more than a dutiful attendant. The disguise was seamless, her features altered and her aura dimmed to blend perfectly among the palace staff. Weeks of careful observation had brought her here, embedded in the King’s inner circle, where secrets lay waiting to be uncovered.
Already, she had learned of the King’s growing paranoia—his distrust of his council, the fissures forming between powerful families, and the quiet murmurs of rebellion at the kingdom’s edges. Every piece of information was a thread to unravel the tapestry of Malas’ strength.
But gathering knowledge was not enough. Celeste’s task demanded more. She would subtly manipulate decisions, pit advisors against one another, and exploit every weakness until the court’s foundation cracked. The King, for all his power, would find himself surrounded by enemies within, and when Marcus’ Night Court moved to strike, Malas would crumble from the inside.
Celeste carried herself with grace as she entered the chamber where the royal council convened. She had only moments to deliver a message to the King’s closest advisor—a small note seeded with misinformation meant to stir distrust between him and another noble. Her magic kept her movements imperceptible to wary eyes.
The night’s work had only begun.
