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  The strategy room felt colder than it should have. Maybe it was just my impression. The walls were lined with maps of the kingdom, trade routes, markings of recent attacks. Sentil was already there when I arrived, speaking in a low voice with two officers. Orion stood beside him, impeccable, posture straight, expression neutral. He looked like he had been carved for this kind of environment.

  I sat in the seat indicated to me. My fingers tapped on the table before I managed to stop them, an old habit when I’m not sure I belong somewhere.

  “Victor,” Sentil said briefly, giving me a small nod. Then he looked around the entire room. “Let’s begin.”

  The silence that followed had a weight of its own.

  Sentil rested his hands on the table.

  “We’ve received new reports about the protests,” he said. “The situation is… more intense than we’d like. Groups are blocking routes near the eastern market, and royal symbols were burned during the night.”

  One of the soldiers cleared his throat before speaking.

  “Sir, some citizens mentioned that the protests don’t feel… natural. They said someone has been paying agitators, encouraging taverns to spread insults against the princess.”

  The room murmured, but Orion remained impassive. He crossed his arms slowly, as if he were only processing the information.

  “Rumors always appear in times of instability,” he said, his voice calm, almost instructional. “But we shouldn’t dismiss the possibility. There’s no way to know yet whether the influence is external… or internal.”

  I looked at him. His expression was perfectly neutral. He didn’t seem to be accusing anyone, just presenting facts like a veteran soldier would. A part of me respected that firmness.

  “Who mentioned internal involvement?” I asked. “Did the rumor specify anyone?”

  “Not directly,” the soldier replied. “But citizens said it ‘came from inside.’ Could be exaggeration or speculation, of course.”

  Orion tilted his head slightly.

  “The guard has its flaws, like any institution,” he said. “But treason isn’t common among us. If there is a traitor, it’s someone very cautious… and with privileged access.”

  Sentil exhaled slowly.

  “We’ll discuss that later. For now, we need to address the other matter.”

  The atmosphere in the room grew heavier when he pulled one of the maps closer and spread it over the table. It was the map of the monster breeding facility, the one finally placed under military jurisdiction after the investigation.

  He pointed at a red circle drawn on it.

  “The facility has been officially taken over by us. We found records indicating illegal experiments, creature smuggling, and even sales to rebels outside the kingdom.”

  The word sales hit me. The idea of someone selling monsters was strange. But it brought back memories of my first day in this world, when a strange man stopped me and said something about my species being worth quite a lot. The coincidence was far too uncomfortable to ignore.

  “And the traitor? Any chance it’s the same person encouraging the protests?” I asked.

  Sentil looked at me.

  “We’re almost certain the people responsible for the facility fled and joined a third group that was financing them. We’re still identifying who was actually behind it… but we had a lead.”

  Orion opened a folder and placed several papers on the table.

  “This man,” he said, pointing at a hand-drawn portrait. “He was the logistics coordinator. A civilian with access to transport routes. He disappeared on the very day the facility was seized.”

  I flipped through the papers. His name meant nothing to me… but something about it bothered me.

  “You think he’s involved with the protests? I mean, I don’t think he alone could finance a place as big as the labyrinth.”

  Orion answered before Sentil could.

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  “It’s possible. An enemy who loses power may try to reignite public instability. Protests are an effective tool for creating chaos. I also doubt he’s the one funding everything, but he certainly knows something.”

  “But,” he continued, “we don’t have enough evidence yet. For now, we consider connections, not certainties.”

  Sentil nodded.

  “We need to find out whether the agitators are receiving orders from this man… or from someone above him. And we need to act quickly.”

  A few more soldiers presented their reports: rumors of sabotage, a group distributing pamphlets against Serena in secret. I absorbed everything in silence. Part of me tensed up just hearing her name involved in all this.

  Orion noticed my silence. He gave me a brief glance, difficult to interpret. It wasn’t distrust… perhaps a professional reading from someone trying to understand whether I would be a stabilizing or volatile factor here.

  I looked away first.

  Sentil then concluded:

  “We’ll divide responsibilities. Orion, you’ll handle external patrols and any movement near the protests. Victor, I need you inside the castle. I want you to keep an eye out for any unusual behavior among the servants and staff. Until we find out who’s manipulating everything, I won’t trust anyone who has access to the inner areas.”

  Orion nodded without complaint.

  I nodded as well. With no command experience, acting as a silent and highly efficient watchdog was indeed the best use of my abilities. Sentil trusted me.

  At the moment, Sentil trusted three people: me, Hogan, and the King. The King, in turn, hadn’t attended a meeting in years.

  If things spiraled out of control, I still had Merlin—my invisible card on the board. No one here needed to know that.

  “Seems appropriate. Everyone acting where they’re most useful,” Orion said.

  His words echoed in my mind. In that moment, it wasn’t the cold tone of a colleague, but the voice of someone placing me inside a box, defining my space. I looked away, unwilling to start an unnecessary competition.

  When the meeting ended, I felt a strange weight in the air, not of open conflict, but of something moving slowly, silently, like ice forming beneath the surface of a lake.

  'I wonder how Serena is doing now…'

  °??──────??°

  The corridor of the East Wing was drowned in sepulchral silence, broken only by the faint clinking of porcelain on a silver tray.

  The young maid walked with short, trembling steps. Her hands were sweating through the white gloves of her uniform. The order was clear: leave the tea on a small table in the corridor, knock, and leave immediately.

  No one was allowed to see Princess Serena, by security protocol.

  But today, the maid had no intention of following the rules.

  In her mind, the voices of the protesters echoed like a poisonous mantra: “The Princess is the cause. She’s killing us. As long as she breathes, the kingdom will know no peace.”

  She stopped before the imposing double doors of dark oak. The air there felt colder, charged with a static that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

  With a mechanical movement, she set the tray onto the side table. The tea was still steaming, releasing a soft chamomile scent, ironic, considering the terror boiling inside her.

  The young woman took a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling body.

  Her hands slid into the pocket of her apron, closing around the cold handle of a freshly sharpened kitchen knife.

  'It’s for the kingdom… for my family…'

  She raised her left hand and knocked.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Protocol dictated that she turn and leave.

  But she stayed. Frozen. Waiting.

  Seconds stretched into hours. On the other side, soft footsteps, almost dragging. The lock turned, the sound echoing far too loudly in the silent corridor.

  When the door opened, the figure that appeared did not resemble a monster.

  Serena wore a light-blue silk robe. Her long white hair fell messily over her shoulders. Her deep blue eyes, tired and unfocused, struggled to stay open.

  Exhausted. Fragile. Nothing like the creature described as a devil by the protesters.

  Serena didn’t show fear immediately. After what had happened with Victor, she had gained a small measure of confidence. She believed that if she stayed calm, she might exchange a few words.

  “You’re still there?” she asked, her voice hoarse and confused.

  The maid didn’t answer.

  A scream tore through the corridor.

  “MONSTER!”

  The blade flashed in the air as she lunged. The distance was short. The attack was far too fast for an ordinary human to react to. The knife aimed straight for the princess’s chest, driven by the blind desperation of someone who believed she was slaying a creature to save the kingdom.

  Serena didn’t have time to think. But she didn’t step back either.

  The moment her mind recognized the murderous intent, something inside her panicked, not for her own life, but for the girl’s.

  Her eyes glowed with a supernatural, icy blue.

  The air in the corridor froze.

  Moisture condensed in an instant. A sudden, invisible burst of force slammed into the maid like a battering ram. The girl never even touched Serena.

  She was thrown like a rag doll, flung down the corridor until she crashed against the stone wall. The impact echoed. The knife fell from her hand, sliding across the carpet.

  Serena collapsed to her knees inside the room, staring at the maid’s motionless body.

  “No…” she whispered, covering her mouth with both hands. “Not again…”

  Her entire body trembled.

  Footsteps thundered toward them, fast, heavy, furious.

  At the far end of the hallway, Victor appeared. His golden eyes took in the entire scene in a single instant.

  Right behind him came Hogan, his sword already half-drawn, his face carved in grim tension.

  The maid’s arm was frozen up to above the elbow, the ice creeping rapidly toward her shoulder. Knowing exactly what needed to be done, Hogan moved forward. With one precise, unhesitating strike, he severed the girl’s arm.

  The limb hit the floor, shattering like glass. Then it crumbled into dust.

  Fortunately, the maid was unconscious. She didn’t feel the agony of having a limb frozen down to its atoms and amputated seconds later.

  Victor reached the doorway. He saw Serena curled on the floor, hands over her head, crying as if she were falling apart from the inside.

  Hogan surveyed the scene with grave eyes.

  “This is going to be a problem…” he muttered.

  Inside the room, Serena sobbed.

  “It wasn’t my fault… it wasn’t… it wasn’t…”

  She trembled like a victim of herself.

  ?????°???°?????