Chapter Thirty-Four · The Arrow in the Mirror

The last light of sunset had faded.

Servants moved down the Turquias Chamber corridor, lighting candles one by one, their glow linking into a warm ribbon against the jade-stone walls.

A young maid of the Queen paused at a sconce and struck a flame.

She set the candle in place and turned to leave.

Behind her, the light went out.

She turned back.

The candle she had just lit was dead.

No wind.

She hesitated, just for a beat.

A thought flickered through her mind: the candles here had never gone out on their own.

She stepped closer and lit it again.

A basket of candles hung from her arm. Many were still waiting to be placed.

She had only gone a few steps when a chill crept up her spine.

Her pace slowed.

A warped sound came from behind her, raising goosebumps along her skin.

Not footsteps. Not wind.

Something else.

Something sliding across stone.

She turned again.

The candles were still there.

But the light… wasn’t where it should be.

At the far end of the corridor, a figure flickered in and out of view.

She leaned forward, peering into the dimness.

“Benny?” she called. “Is that you?”

The shadow slid closer.

The distance between them narrowed.

She held her breath, eyes wide.

Not Benny…

Her heart slammed against her ribs as if it might break free. Her throat went dry.

It had no face.

Its head stretched, hollow spaces opening across it. Not quite eyes, but watching.

It lunged.

The hollows widened. Candlelight around it flickered wildly.

A scream tore through the corridor.

The basket dropped. Candles scattered across the stone.

The girl spun and ran.

The shadow thinned… then vanished.

The doors to the main hall burst open. She stumbled inside and collapsed to her knees.

The Queen was at dinner, fork and knife still in hand.

Obewich was cutting his food. He turned, jolted.

“What is it, Rosie?”

The maid gasped, shaking, pointing back toward the corridor.

“Your Majesty…”

Her voice broke.

“It…”

“What about it?” the Queen said, setting her utensils down.

Rosie couldn’t get the words out. She pointed again toward the dark hall, then pressed a hand to her chest.

“…something wrong… eyes… too many…”

Obewich stepped forward and helped Rosie to her feet.

“Where?” he said. “Show me.”

Rosie led the Queen and Obewich back to the row of candles.

There was nothing.

“You’ve been working too much,” Obewich said. “You’re seeing things.”

He bent to gather the basket and the scattered candles, then handed them back to her.

“Go to your room. Get some rest.”

Rosie bowed her head. Her eyes stayed low, refusing to look past them.

She clutched the basket to her chest and walked away, then nearly broke into a run.

As if slowing for even a moment would let it catch up… right behind her.

A few days later, another servant claimed to have seen something just as disturbing.

The report reached King Eryndar without delay. He went to the Turquias Chamber corridor at once.

The King stood exactly where the shadow had appeared. He took a candle from its sconce, studied it for a moment, then said to the Queen,

“Once could be chance. Twice is not.”

“I agree,” the Queen said quietly. “Nothing like this has ever happened in the Turquias Chamber.”

Her hands tightened at her sides.

A cold draft slipped through the corridor. The Queen shivered.

For some reason, it didn’t feel as though it came from outside.

But she couldn’t tell where it had come from.

The King placed a hand around her shoulders.

“Come,” he said. “Let’s go inside. The winter wind is starting to bite.”

The King and Queen sat across from each other in the main hall.

Obewich poured the tea.

“Do you think someone’s behind this?” the King asked, lifting the Queen’s cup and blowing gently to cool it.

“I’ve had a feeling,” the Queen said. “These past few days… something isn’t right.”

“What kind of—”

A sharp sound cut through the air.

The Queen looked up.

An arrow shot in through the window, slicing past the King’s right shoulder.

He was still holding the teacup.

It struck the mirror behind the Queen’s seat.

Cracks spidered across the glass, but it didn’t shatter.

The King moved at once, throwing himself in front of her.

She stared at the arrow, her heart still racing.

Obewich froze.

His hand lifted, then stalled in midair, unsure what to do.

“That arrow…”

“Obewich,” the King said. “Bring it here.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Obewich stepped closer, nearly slipping.

He wrenched the arrow free. Shards of glass fell and shattered across the floor.

His hand trembled slightly as he offered it to the King.

The King turned it over in his hand, studying it.

“This is the same kind of arrow that killed Cavren in the camp.”

The Queen met his gaze.

Neither of them spoke.

A shadow flickered past the doorway.

King Eryndar surged toward the doors and gave chase down the corridor.

No one.

Just like before.

The King’s thoughts snapped back to the Queen. He turned sharply and hurried inside.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. But this palace…” The Queen shook her head faintly. “It’s slipping out of control.”

Obewich helped her into a seat.

His hand was still unsteady, but he didn’t leave her side.

The King moved to the windows, shutting each one tight.

“Obewich. From now on, no window is to be opened.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The King sat beside the Queen, a faint crease forming between his brows. He exhaled slowly.

“Hidden forces are still operating behind the scenes.

Right here in my own palace. I’ve been investigating for a long time… and found nothing.”

He drew the Queen into his arms, holding her a little tighter.

“Even you… I can’t protect you as I should.”

The Queen’s gaze drifted into the distance.

“Your Majesty… I don’t know whether they’re targeting me, or—”

“You should return to Sonareth for a time.”

Before the moment could settle, a servant hurried in.

“Chancellor Syveris requests an audience. He brings urgent news regarding an internal spy.”

The King pulled the Queen’s cloak up around her shoulders.

“Rest. I’ll return shortly.”

She caught his hand.

He pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“It’s all right. I’ll be back soon.”

King Eryndar stepped out into the hall, voice rising:

“Assassin in the palace! Mobilize all guards to the Turquias Chamber!”

Alarm bells rang out across the palace.

Soldiers rushed in, forming tight ranks outside the Queen’s quarters.

The King’s steps quickened, sharp and relentless.

No more concessions.

He had given enough ground to those who abused their power.

This time, he would root them out—no matter the cost.

Even if it meant shaking the kingdom to its core.

Resolve surged through him.

It wasn’t too late to restore order.