The Poisoned Garden
Twilight draped the Golden Palace in a violet hush.
As the sun disappeared behind the white mountains, the high halls of the east wing dimmed, and shadows crept between columns of gold and ivory. The air was cooler now gentler but Selene felt none of its calm. Her steps were jagged, her chest too tight, as she stormed barefoot through the corridor toward her chambers, one fist twisted in the folds of her gown.
She had barely closed the door before she crumpled to the floor.
"Princess!" Jeria rushed in after her, clutching the hem of her skirts. "Please my lady, please don't"
"Don't touch me!" Selene snapped, her voice hoarse.
Jeria froze. But her gaze stayed soft.
Selene looked nothing like the vision of court beauty she was earlier that day. Her braid had come loose, curls fraying like wildfire around her pale face. Her eyes, once cold and unreadable, were wet with fury. Her lips, stained red, trembled without permission.
She pressed her back against the edge of the bedframe, chest heaving.
"I was summoned," she spat, "into the prince's study like a common handmaid. And dismissed like a servant."
"My lady"
"All thanks to Xyril," Selene whispered, voice now trembling. "She told me she'd help. That she would guide me to the crown. Now I'll be thrown out of the palace like filth come morning."
Jeria knelt beside her, reaching gently for her shoulder. "You won't be. We still have tonight."
Selene looked up.
Her eyes were sharp again not broken. Not yet.
"I'll speak to the Crown Prince," she said, though the idea already tasted bitter. "Say I was manipulated. That Elowen bewitched him. That I was desperate for his approval and acted out of jealousy."
"My lady," Jeria said carefully, "he won't believe that. You said it yourself he already suspects something."
Selene stood, slowly.
"No. I won't beg him. I'll do something better."
Her expression shifted distant. Calculating.
"Where is Xyril's chamber?"
Jeria blinked. "The northern garden wing, behind the lotus courtyard."
"Then that's where we're going."
They dressed simply pale cloaks and soft boots, hair hidden beneath veils. Selene's face remained half-shadowed, and her movements slow but sure as they moved through the service corridors, down the western stairs, and out into the moonlit gardens.
Twilight had fully vanished by now. The stars were distant pinpricks, like eyes watching from another world.
The palace grounds were quiet. A few guards whispered near the fountains. Distant music played from a room far to the east, likely some lesser noble's engagement feast. But the path they walked was overgrown, half-forgotten a winding trail that led behind the koi pools and into the old backyard, where the wisteria hung like ghosts.
And there, just beyond the vine-draped pergola, they stopped.
A voice two, actually carried low across the stillness.
Selene froze mid-step, pulling Jeria to crouch beside a pillar. The breeze shifted. The voices sharpened.
Xyril. And… a man.
"You're rushing to conclusions again, Xyril," the man's voice said. It was deep. Polished. Unfamiliar.
"She's gone. And now the Crown Prince is asking questions he never cared about before," Xyril hissed, frustrated. "You think that's coincidence?"
"Maybe. Or maybe you're paranoid."
"Or maybe Elowen is more than what she appears. You saw her. That mark wasn't a servant's accident. It was sacred. Ancient."
The man sighed.
"Which is why I've sent spies. Let them shadow Derek. I'll have my assistant scour the old scrolls the ones locked in the First Library. If this 'Chosen One' exists, her name will be written there. Not whispered in gardens like this."
Selene's heart stopped.
Chosen one?
Xyril's voice was sharp again. "The border to the mystical realm was breached, wasn't it? The barrier collapsed for the first time in a thousand years. Someone opened it someone born of divine blood. And then a maid disappears. That's not coincidence."
The man countered. "But it could've been someone else. You're assuming too much."
"Maybe," Xyril said coldly. "But I'd rather overreach than be blindsided. And Selene"
Selene's breath hitched.
"Selene is just a fool I'm using to buy time."
Jeria stiffened.
"She thinks I'm helping her win the Selection," Xyril continued with a laugh like broken glass. "But she's nothing. A pawn. A dog dressed like a queen. The moment I find proof Elowen's the chosen one, I'll bury Selene myself."
"Xyril…" the man said slowly. "What is your role in this game? Truly."
There was a pause. And then the truth.
"My role?" Xyril purred. "To survive. To ascend. I don't care who the king is, or the queen. But the one who controls her controls everything. Selene will die. Derek will kneel. And I'll make sure the new world begins with my name stitched into its bones."
Selene stepped back too quickly.
A sharp crack of dry leaf beneath her heel.
Jeria grabbed her hand, and the two of them ducked into the shadows breathless, silent, like hunted animals. Xyril's voice behind them dropped to whispers again.
Selene didn't wait.
She ran.
Back in her chamber, the door slammed shut behind them.
Selene stood frozen for a moment, her hands shaking as she pulled off her veil. Her reflection in the mirror across the room was pale and wide-eyed. Her lips parted as if she might vomit.
"She was going to kill me," she whispered. "She was going to use me and then kill me."
"My lady," Jeria said, bolting the door, "you can't stay here tonight."
Selene turned slowly.
"No," she said, voice icy now. "I'm not running."
She crossed the room, yanked off the pins from her cloak, and dropped them onto the table.
"I've been manipulated. Mocked. Threatened. But not again. Not ever again."
She looked at Jeria.
"If Elowen is the Chosen One… then that changes everything."
"How so?" Jeria asked, still catching her breath.
Selene moved to the window, staring out over the darkened palace gardens.
"Because that means," she whispered, "this isn't just about the Selection anymore. It's about prophecy. And the Crown Prince my Crown Prince is tangled in it."
She turned, a wicked light building behind her eyes.
"Imagine the scandal. The golden kingdom's heir abandoning the process the duty because of a maid. His heart compromised. His judgment in question. The Queen's selection corrupted by lust."
Jeria slowly nodded. "It could shake the entire court."
"It will."
Selene paced now, fire returning to her veins.
"If I play this right, I can turn it all. The nobles will rise in outrage. The commoners will whisper betrayal. The court will be forced to investigate."
"And Prince Derek?" Jeria asked carefully.
Selene hesitated.
"I'll request a formal hearing," she said at last. "Privately. Tonight. I'll tell him I have information regarding Elowen her disappearance… and her destiny."
"You'll tell him what you heard?"
"No," Selene said, smiling thinly. "I'll tell him just enough. A drop of truth, laced with poison. Enough to make him second-guess Elowen to suspect she's hiding something, or being used."
She crossed to the vanity and pulled out a scroll.
"Write the request. Send it through the herald's corridor. I want it to reach him by the eleventh bell."
Jeria bowed slightly. "What shall I say the hearing is for?"
Selene met her eyes in the mirror.
"Tell him it concerns the girl he sought for… and the future of the throne."