The Midnight Meeting

The Great Hall was empty when Cedric entered, the towering marble columns casting long shadows across the floor. The moonlight from the high windows bathed the room in an ethereal glow, making the walls shimmer with an almost dreamlike quality. At the far end of the hall, seated on a throne of obsidian and silver, was the Queen. She was alone, her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of light and shadow that danced across the room.

As Cedric approached, he felt the weight of her eyes on him, and the sense that every inch of the room was charged with her magic. There was no mistaking her power, no doubting the way she commanded the space around her.

"You came," the Queen said softly, though there was no surprise in her tone. "I expected no less from you, Cedric of the Forest."

He bowed respectfully, but his mind was elsewhere. His heart beat in a rhythm he couldn't control. The Court had been quiet lately, too quiet, and Cedric couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming. Something inevitable.

"You requested my presence, Your Majesty," Cedric said, his voice steady, though the tension in the air made it feel like every word might shatter the silence. "What is it you wish to discuss?"

The Queen's eyes flickered with a knowing smile. "It's not what I wish to discuss. It's what you wish to decide, Cedric. You've been here long enough to understand how things work. The factions in the Court are restless. The time is coming for you to make your choice. Will you stand with me—or will you choose your own path?"

Cedric's heart skipped a beat. Her words were a challenge, but more than that—they were an invitation. He had expected more manipulation, more veiled threats, but this was different. This was the moment where everything would come to a head.

"I've already made my choice," Cedric said, his voice unwavering despite the storm brewing in his chest. "I choose my own path."

A shadow crossed the Queen's face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. She stood from her throne, her movements fluid, her gaze never leaving his.

"Do you think you can escape this, Cedric? You've seen what happens to those who defy the Court. You've seen the price of rebellion." Her voice dropped to a whisper, filled with a strange, cold certainty. "You are not above the rules. Not here."

Cedric met her gaze, feeling the weight of her words settle over him like a heavy cloak. "I never claimed to be above them. But I will not be a pawn in someone else's game. Not anymore."

There was a long, silent pause between them, the tension thickening until it felt like the very walls were holding their breath. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the Queen gestured toward the far corner of the room.

A figure stepped out of the shadows.

Cedric's heart stopped for a beat.

It was Lyra.

But she wasn't alone. At her side stood Malthor.