Golden streaks of dawn stretched faintly over the city as Cassie and Harmonia slipped from the archives, their footsteps muted against the chilled stone floors. They moved in silence, neither daring to break the fragile air of shared purpose that had formed between them.

  Cassie’s grip on the journal was tight, her thoughts spiraling. Harmonia had proven herself unexpectedly valuable, but trust between them remained a tentative thread.

  Near the corridor where they would part ways, Harmonia paused. She glanced around to ensure they were alone before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “What we’ve uncovered tonight won’t stay hidden long,” she said. “If anyone suspects my involvement—” She hesitated, her expression momentarily unguarded, the weight of the risk plain in her eyes.

  “No one will hear it from me,” Cassie said, her tone steady.

  “See that they don’t,” Harmonia replied, her composure slipping back into place. “I’ll send word when I have more. For now, tread carefully. There are eyes everywhere.”

  With that, Harmonia disappeared into the shadows of an adjoining hall, her footsteps fading quickly. Cassie stood for a moment longer, her pulse steady but her mind racing. Harmonia’s warnings had the ring of truth, but whether her motives aligned with survival or something else entirely remained unclear.

  Cassie turned toward her quarters, the journal still clutched tightly in her hand.

  In the small hours of the morning, Cassie sat at a worn desk in her room, the dim light of a single candle flickering across the cluttered surface. Papers and ledgers—her findings from the archives—lay scattered before her, their contents damning and overwhelming in equal measure.

  Names. Locations. Connections.

  The Velkan Consortium had wormed its way into Verona’s veins, its wealth flowing through the noble houses like blood. The implications were staggering: trade routes manipulated, alliances poisoned, decisions made not for the kingdom’s stability but for the consortium’s expansion. And now, with the wards failing, their final play seemed imminent.

  Cassie’s fingers brushed the edge of the journal, its battered cover grounding her in the moment. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. Action was necessary, but her path forward required precision. One wrong step could set the entire court against her.

  A knock at her door broke the stillness.

  “Enter,” she called softly, her hand instinctively falling to her dagger.

  The door opened, and Captain Hildiger stepped inside. His expression was unreadable, though his sharp eyes flicked over the mess on her desk with interest.

  “You need my help,” he said.

  Cassie gestured for him to close the door. “Rumors of secret tunnels beneath the palace—do you know if they’re real?”

  Hildiger leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. “Real enough. The tunnels were used during the last dynasty’s collapse, though most have been sealed or forgotten. Why?”

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  “Because if the conspirators are as deeply embedded as this suggests,” she said, tapping the journal, “they’ll have contingency plans. Places to meet, to hide. And if there’s anything left in those tunnels, I need to see it.”

  Hildiger’s expression darkened, but he nodded. “I’ll take you to one of the entrances. It won’t be safe, though. The tunnels are unstable, and the palace guard doesn’t patrol them anymore.”

  “Good,” Cassie said. “That means fewer prying eyes.”

  By mid-morning, Cassie and Hildiger stood in the shadowed alcove of the guest wing, where a portion of the stone wall bore faint, deliberate scratches in the shape of a crescent moon. Hildiger pressed against the stone with a grunt, and the panel shifted inward with a low groan, revealing a narrow staircase spiraling into darkness.

  “Stay close,” Hildiger said, lighting a lantern and stepping inside.

  Cassie followed, the weight of the journal still heavy at her side. The air grew colder as they descended, thick with the scent of damp earth and mildew. The lantern’s light flickered against the walls, revealing crumbling mortar and faint carvings—symbols worn with age.

  The staircase ended abruptly, spilling into a wide corridor littered with debris. Cassie’s boots crunched over broken stone and decayed wood as they pressed forward, the tunnel widening into what appeared to be a long-forgotten chamber.

  Hildiger swept the lantern in a slow arc, its glow illuminating shelves lined with dust-covered objects: scrolls, maps, rusted tools, and small, unidentifiable artifacts.

  “Looks like someone’s been here,” he said, pointing toward a table in the corner. Its surface was cleared of dust, a faint candle stub resting on its edge.

  Cassie approached the table cautiously, her eyes scanning the scattered documents. Among them were coded messages, unfamiliar sigils, and a map of Verona with several points marked in red. A ledger lay at the center of the chaos, its entries bearing names she recognized from the archives—noble families aligned with both princes.

  Her breath caught as her eyes landed on a series of payments attributed to the Velkan Consortium. The sums were staggering, distributed across factions and seemingly unrelated individuals. But the pattern was clear: the consortium wasn’t simply funding the sabotage. They were orchestrating it.

  “They’re buying everyone,” she murmured. “House by house, coin by coin.”

  Hildiger leaned over her shoulder, his expression grim. “This isn’t just treachery—it’s a dismantling. They’re trying to unravel the monarchy from within.”

  “And they’re close,” Cassie said, her voice tight. Her fingers brushed the edge of the map, where one of the red points marked a location perilously close to the wards.

  Her stomach twisted. The wards weren’t just failing. They were being sabotaged.

  Hildiger straightened, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. “We need to get out of here. This place isn’t safe.”

  Cassie nodded, gathering as much of the evidence as she could carry. Her mind churned with the implications—alliances she thought unshakable, nobles she thought loyal, all tangled in this vast, insidious web.

  A faint noise—a scuff of movement—stopped her cold.

  She froze, her hand tightening on the dagger at her belt. Hildiger turned sharply, his lantern casting wild shadows against the walls.

  “Who’s there?” Hildiger barked, his voice echoing down the tunnel.

  The shadows seemed to shift, solidifying into a figure at the far end of the chamber. Cloaked in darkness, their face obscured by a hood, the figure stepped forward, their movements deliberate and slow.

  Cassie’s pulse quickened, her grip firming on her weapon.

  “You’ve seen too much,” the figure said, their voice low and cold. “This ends here.”

  The dagger slid free of its sheath with a soft rasp. Cassie stepped into a defensive stance, her heart pounding in her ears.

  Behind her, Hildiger’s sword hissed as he drew it, his posture tense.

  The figure didn’t falter, their presence radiating quiet menace. In the faint lantern light, the glint of steel became visible in their hand—a curved blade, wickedly sharp.

  Cassie exhaled slowly, her muscles coiled. She wasn’t certain who had sent the assassin—or what faction they belonged to. But it no longer mattered.

  “Come closer, then,” she said, her voice steady, her blade raised.

  The chamber seemed to hold its breath as the figure lunged.