The Queen’s Wake

The Queen Regent had not spoken in over a year.

Her coma had been a whispered mystery some said it was the result of a failed assassination, others a consequence of dark prophecy. Officially, she had fallen ill from stress after the High Priestess's death.

But no one had expected her to wake up.

And no one had expected her to ask for Elara Valeblume by name.

Thalia's name wasn't on her lips. Elara's was.

Elara stood frozen outside the chamber doors in the east wing of the palace, the same hall where royal births were announced and sovereigns had died. The torches lining the stone walls burned low and steady, as if holding their breath.

Seryth stood at her side, arms crossed, whispering, "You're sure you want to go in? This could be a trap."

"She's awake," Elara murmured. "That alone means the game has changed."

A guard pushed open the door.

Elara stepped inside.

The room was quiet. Lavish, but dim. Vines from the queen's enchanted garden twisted along the windowsill, blooming silver roses that only opened at night.

The Queen Regent Queen Amarinne Ravaryn lay in a high velvet bed, her frame thinner than Elara remembered. She looked older, her platinum hair streaked with steel and draped like frost across the pillows.

But her eyes were open.

And they locked on Elara the moment she entered.

"You came," the queen rasped, her voice a ghost dragged through centuries.

Elara bowed her head. "Your Majesty… I'm sorry. You must have me mistaken"

"I'm not mistaken," Queen Amarinne interrupted. Her voice, though weak, held the unmistakable weight of royalty. "You wear her skin. But you're not her."

Elara's spine straightened.

"I am Elara Valeblume," she said quietly.

The queen's lips twitched not into a smile, but something darker.

"I thought so."

She motioned toward a small, rune-marked chair beside the bed. "Sit. And listen. We don't have much time."

Elara did.

Queen Amarinne turned her head, eyes fixed on the stone ceiling.

"I saw you burn. I watched the pyre from this very tower. And yet… I heard you scream again just before I woke. In my sleep. In a dream that wasn't mine."

Elara's breath caught.

"You saw it?"

"No," the queen murmured. "I relived it."

She reached beneath her blankets and pulled out a ring tarnished, plain, but etched with the mark of the High Priestess.

"This was hers," Amarinne whispered. "She gave it to me the day before her death and told me to guard it with my life. 'One day, Elara will need it,' she said. 'The true one.'"

Elara's fingers curled.

"Why me?"

"Because she knew what I feared," Amarinne said. "There would come a day when the wrong Elara would rise… and the right one would be buried."

The queen's eyes flicked toward the door. Her hand trembled as she passed the ring to Elara.

"Elara… the prophecy wasn't just about your return. It was about a mirror fractured. A soul split by flame. One survives. One becomes a lie."

"She's already taken my place," Elara said bitterly. "She walks through the court in my name."

"Then take it back," the queen whispered fiercely. "Before it's too late."

Elara's heart thundered.

"You believe me?" she asked, shocked.

"I ruled this kingdom for twenty years before Kaelith," Amarinne said. "I know lies when I see them. And I know when truth walks back from the dead."

She reached for Elara's wrist, gripping it with surprising strength.

"Listen carefully. In the crypts beneath the old chapel… there's a vault sealed in silver. My seal opens it. Inside is a scroll written by the High Priestess herself. It names the traitor. The one who corrupted the prophecy."

Elara's eyes widened.

"Who?"

But the queen's breath caught.

Her eyes rolled back.

"Your Majesty?" Elara stood.

The queen's body convulsed.

A dark mist rose from beneath her bed like smoke crawling up the walls. The torches in the room flickered violently.

Elara drew back.

Seryth burst into the room behind her, blade drawn. "Elara!"

A chilling voice echoed through the chamber. Not the queen's.

But the impostor Elara's.

"Did you really think she'd live long enough to help you?"

"No!" Elara reached for the queen but it was too late.

The queen's body went limp.

The silver roses in the window all withered at once.

Seryth swore under his breath. "She was watching. She knew you'd come here."

"She didn't just watch," Elara said, voice cold. "She struck first."

She stared down at the lifeless queen.

She had hoped for an ally. A witness. A truth-bearer.

Now she had a corpse.

And a warning.

The impostor had magic powerful enough to kill within the palace. Silently. Remotely.

Elara's grip tightened around the ring.

If the queen had been telling the truth, then the last hope for proving who she really was now lay in the sealed vault beneath the chapel.

And someone would be waiting there.

Elara turned to Seryth, eyes burning.

"We break the vault," she said.

"But it'll be guarded."

"Then we go through the guards."

"And if she gets there first?"

Elara's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Then I kill her."