Imeena hadn't moved from the shadows.
She was leaning silently against the third supporting arch of the western balcony, half-draped in ivy and enchantment, cloak drawn just enough to blur her outline against the marble.
Her heartbeat was slow. Breath quieter than the wind. The average passerby wouldn't have noticed her.
But she wasn't hiding from average people.
She was hiding from Queen Serisa.
And there was a very good reason for that.
Imeena had faced demons, reality-ripping spells, and one entire collapsing fortress without blinking.
She'd fought generals who could summon storms, walked through fire, and once decapitated a spectral warlord with a broken chair leg.
None of that compared to Serisa when she was in a mood.
And right now?
She was definitely in a mood.
Imeena could feel the ripple in the air from the throne room. The Queen's magic had shifted, subtle but sharp—like the edge of a blade being slowly drawn across silk. And it had her name etched into it.
She didn't need to see the queen's expression to know that her avoidance strategy had expired.
Maybe I shouldn't have burned the last summons, Imeena thought.
To be fair, that last mission had involved hunting down a forest spirit that only spoke in riddles and vomited flower pollen when threatened. She had, very reasonably, decided not to waste her time.
Or the three before that. Or the one that involved dressing as a "Celestian cultural ambassador" and babysitting a minor noble through his Coming of Stardust Ceremony.
So yes, she may have ignored a few royal contracts.
And yes, she may have casually incinerated the scrolls as they arrived.
And fine, she may have once told a courier she'd died, just to avoid a debriefing.
But the royal family? They kept coming back.
Like a magical rash.
Imeena pressed further into the arch's shadow and kept her gaze locked on Kaelith, who was currently being dragged through the hallway by her Celestian tornado of a cousin.
Kaelith hadn't noticed her yet. Not really. She'd felt her, sure. That quick glance behind her shoulder, the slight narrowing of her eyes—Imeena recognized the look. A warrior's instinct. But Kaelith hadn't seen where she was.
And that was the way Imeena liked it.
The princess moved with more discipline than expected. Less like a noble and more like a trained blade one that knew how to stay sharp without being seen.
Her posture was confident, but not rigid. Her tone had bite. She moved like someone who didn't expect to be protected only respected.
Fine.
She was interesting.
Not impressive. Not important. Not someone Imeena was going to care about.
But interesting.
Imeena's eyes narrowed as Kaelith disappeared into her suite, dragged off by her friend, whose voice carried down the corridor in a series of high-speed complaints and laughter.
The door shut.
Silence returned.
Imeena exhaled slowly.
Maybe today wouldn't be so—
Snap.
The sound echoed like a whip-crack across the corridor.
The air around her shifted.
Imeena's chain glyphs flared under her gloves, reacting automatically. Her spine straightened. A cold wind coiled around her ankles.
Then she heard the voice.
"You ungrateful little chain ghost," came the smooth, unbothered voice of Queen Serisa from across the corridor.
Imeena turned slowly.
And there she was—Serisa, celestial royalty incarnate, descending the stairs with maddening grace, the hem of her gown rippling like it had a personality and maybe a vendetta.
Her mismatched eyes gleamed with what might have passed for serenity if not for the glowing black chain she held coiled in one hand.
"I knew you were lurking somewhere," Serisa said. "It's like you've been shedding disappointment all over my castle."
Imeena straightened fully, jaw locked.
"Your Majesty."
"Oh, now she remembers protocol." Serisa's smile was all sugar and scorn.
"I'm technically off-duty."
"You're technically on fire," Serisa snapped, gesturing with the chain, which crackled as it slithered through the air. "Do you know how many royal assignments you've 'declined' this year?"
"Define declined."
Serisa's eyes narrowed. "Five."
"...Okay, define five."
Serisa hissed and hurled the glowing chain straight at her.
Imeena moved fast ducking low and twisting away as the chain cracked against the stone where she'd just stood. The tiles glowed faintly, magic sizzling.
"Still using physical manifestations for your disappointment, I see."
"I'm trying restraint," Serisa said, stepping closer. "The last time I dragged you in, you charmed three of my guards and left through the ceiling vent."
"I didn't charm them. They were just weak to sarcasm."
Serisa raised the chain again.
Imeena raised her hands. "Okay, okay. Cease magical hostilities."
"You burned a scroll with my royal crest."
"I burn everything I don't like. It's not personal."
"You told one of my mages you'd rather be fed to void serpents than 'babysit another pudding-spined noble with trust issues.'"
"I stand by that."
"That noble was my cousin."
Imeena smirked. "Then you should thank me."
Serisa exhaled through her nose, her fingers twitching around the chain. "You are insufferable."
"And yet," Imeena said coolly, "you keep calling."
Serisa paused.
Then slowly lowered the chain.
"You're lucky my daughter likes Kaelith," she muttered. "Or I'd turn you into a wall decoration and leave you there for a decade."
Imeena tilted her head. "Not the worst punishment I've had proposed this year."
"You do have a type," Serisa added with mock sweetness.
"I also have an escape plan," Imeena said, pointing behind her. "Three ways out of this hallway alone."
"Oh, I know." Serisa smiled again. "I already locked them."
Imeena blinked.
Damn it.
Serisa leaned in, chain coiling around her wrist like a serpent. "Don't think this conversation is over, Cromwell."
"Didn't expect it to be."
"Good. Then enjoy your new assignment."
Imeena straightened again, hands sliding into her coat pockets. "Enjoy your throne room tantrums."
Serisa turned with a flick of her braid. "I will."
And then she was gone, sweeping down the hall like a thundercloud wrapped in moonlight.
Imeena waited until the air stilled, until the energy in the corridor faded and the royal presence retreated fully into its gilded domain.
Then, and only then, she let out a slow breath and stepped back into the shadows.
Her hand brushed the edge of the cracked tile where Serisa's chain had struck. It was still warm.
Imeena's lip twitched.
It was going to be that kind of week.
She stood there a moment longer, letting the dark settle around her again.
And then she turned her gaze back toward the royal suite—toward the girl behind the ornate doors who laughed too easily, stared too boldly, and probably had no idea the woman guarding her was already deciding what distance to keep.
Kaelith.
Hot. Sharp-tongued. Too confident for her own good.
And far too close to everything Imeena hated.
Imeena's expression went flat again.