Chapter 13: Shadows in the Gallery
High above the courtyard, hidden behind the stained-glass panels of the upper gallery, Lord Chancellor Vane watched the surrender with unconcealed fury. His knuckles dug into the stone windowsill so hard his fingers turned white. Beside him stood Lady Caelia and a handful of loyalist guards who still believed in the absolute supremacy of the high council over the crown.
""He has surrendered,"" Lady Caelia hissed, her voice trembling with panic. ""The rebel army is laying down its arms. If the king and that scullery girl broker a peace with Kaelen, our positions, our estates, and our influence will be stripped away within the week.""
""We cannot allow them to succeed,"" Vane muttered, his eyes narrowing as a dark, desperate plan formed in his mind. ""The girl's magic is tied to her life force. If the symbol of the phoenix is extinguished before she can formally ascend the throne, the bloodline dies with her, and the council remains the true power behind the crown.""
Vane gestured subtly to the captain of the loyalist guard standing in the shadows behind them. The guard nodded grimly, reaching beneath his heavy cloak to grip the hilt of a poisoned crossbow.
Down in the courtyard, the tension had eased as the rebel fighters began to stack their weapons under the watchful eyes of the royal garrison. King Alistair was speaking quietly with Kaelen, attempting to lay the groundwork for a formal peace treaty that would address the grievances of the provinces. Lyra stood a few paces away, finally letting her guard down as she took a deep breath of the cooling air.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
Master Gareth’s battle instincts flared instantly. ""Look out!"" he roared, lunging forward.
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A poisoned bolt hissed through the space where Lyra had been standing a microsecond earlier, striking a stone pillar with a resounding thud. Lyra ducked instinctively, rolling across the cobblestones as a second bolt grazed her shoulder, tearing her tunic and leaving a shallow, dark scratch.
The courtyard erupted into renewed chaos. Royal guards drew their weapons, looking up toward the upper gallery windows where the faint silhouette of an assassin vanished behind the stained glass. Kaelen’s men, assuming they had been betrayed, immediately snatched up their dropped weapons, shouting in anger.
