Chapter 20: The Poisoned Offer
The throne room was dimly lit by the golden glow of torches, casting long shadows on the marble floor. Seraphina sat upon her throne, an unreadable expression on her face as she waited for the envoy from Eldoria to speak.
The Eldorian emissary—a man of medium build, draped in the silver and navy robes of his kingdom—stood before her, his posture stiff but respectful. His graying beard barely concealed the nervous twitch in his jaw.
Ronan stood just behind Seraphina, his hand resting near the hilt of his sword. He didn't trust the Eldorians. Neither did she.
"Your Majesty," the emissary finally spoke, his voice carefully measured, "I bring grave news. There is a plot brewing within your court, one that threatens your reign."
Seraphina tilted her head slightly, feigning mild curiosity. "A bold claim, emissary. And why should I believe a word of it?"
The man hesitated. "Because the traitor you seek has already made contact with my kingdom. And they are making preparations to—" he hesitated, choosing his next words carefully, "—remove you from the throne."
Silence hung in the air.
Seraphina's fingers curled around the armrest of her throne.
A traitor within her own court, conspiring with Eldoria?
Her gaze sharpened. "Who?"
The emissary did not answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, withdrawing a sealed letter from his robe. "I have proof, Your Majesty. A written correspondence from the traitor to my king. We intercepted it before it could reach its destination."
He handed the letter to a nearby guard, who quickly brought it to Seraphina.
She broke the wax seal with deliberate slowness, unfolding the parchment. The moment her eyes fell upon the words, a slow, dangerous smirk curled at her lips.
The fool.
The writing was familiar—too familiar. It belonged to Duke Marcellus.
Ronan leaned closer, reading over her shoulder. "Well, well," he murmured. "Looks like our little plan just got easier."
Seraphina turned her gaze back to the emissary. "Tell me, what does Eldoria hope to gain from bringing me this information? Surely your kingdom does not act out of sheer goodwill."
The emissary bowed slightly, a knowing glint in his eye. "Eldoria wishes for peace between our two nations. We seek to mend old wounds. And, should Your Majesty eliminate this traitor, we would be willing to discuss… mutual benefits."
Seraphina laughed, a slow, velvety sound that sent a shiver down the emissary's spine.
"Ah. There it is. The price of your honesty."
She rose gracefully from her throne, stepping down toward him, her gown flowing behind her like a dark shadow.
"You expect me to believe that Eldoria suddenly wishes for peace, after turning its back on me years ago? You expect me to reward your king's generosity without wondering what trap lies beneath?"
The emissary swallowed hard. "Your Majesty—"
She raised a hand, silencing him.
"Take this message to your king," she said, her voice like silk laced with steel. "Tell him that I will handle my traitors in my own way. And as for peace?" Her lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Perhaps. If I find him useful enough."
The emissary exhaled in relief and bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Majesty."
With a flick of her wrist, Seraphina gestured to her guards. "Escort him out."
As soon as the envoy was gone, Ronan chuckled. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
Seraphina turned to him, her gaze dark and full of intent.
"I enjoy the fact that Duke Marcellus has sealed his own fate."