There were three rules in any hostile takeover:
1. Find the discarded pieces—they're often more loyal than the polished ones.
2. Know more than everyone else in the room.
3. Always move first.
Tonight, I planned to do all three.
Dahlia, to her credit, didn't ask why we were sneaking through the servant corridors beneath the East Tower. She only adjusted the hood on my cloak and kept her dagger hidden in the folds of her skirt. The girl was starting to trust me—but I had no illusions. Trust here was currency, not affection.
"Is this wise, my lady?" she whispered. "If Lord Camden finds out—"
"He won't," I said. "He's too busy drinking himself stupid in the eastern drawing room."
Lord Camden, the royal tutor turned political embarrassment, had been cast out of the court last year after exposing a scandal involving forged treaties—only to be framed for it himself. According to the original novel, he would die penniless in a gutter six months before the heroine's coronation.
Unless I got to him first.
We reached the iron-bound door at the end of the hallway. I knocked once, then twice, then paused, before rapping again—just as the old code I'd read from the servant logs instructed.
A bolt scraped. A sliver of lantern light spilled out.
"Go away," a gruff voice growled.
"Lord Camden," I said smoothly, "if I wanted you dead, I'd have brought a prettier dagger."
The door opened wider.
A man in a rumpled scholar's robe and stained sleeves squinted at me. He was younger than I remembered from the books, with a weathered look that came more from disillusionment than age.
"Lady Vale?" His eyes narrowed. "Come to finish what the court started?"
"No," I said, stepping inside. "I've come to hire you."
---
The room stank of ink, mold, and spite. Books were piled like barricades, and scrolls littered the floor.
"I need someone who understands the royal archives," I said. "Someone who can trace lineages, read between redactions, and isn't afraid of truth that bites."
He snorted. "You flatter me."
"I bribe you," I corrected, tossing a small velvet pouch onto his table. It clinked with coins and promise.
Camden looked at it, then at me. "What's the job?"
"Dig into House Vale. My family." I met his gaze. "Find out who cursed us."
His brows lifted. "You believe the rumors?"
"I believe they're not rumors. I've seen the signs."
He studied me a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "Give me a week."
"Three days."
"Four."
I smiled. "Deal."
---
Next stop was a shop near the edge of the Merchant Quarter—unmarked, locked, and often avoided by nobles who believed their blood was too blue to bleed.
The door opened to a woman with burn scars tracing one side of her face like a map of survival. She said nothing. Only stepped aside.
I nodded in greeting. "Aelith. I'm told your alchemy can silence an entire ballroom or wake the dead—depending on payment."
She remained still. Silent. Her gaze flicked to a signboard above the counter: "Payment before product. No refunds."
I laid a vial on the counter.
Inside swirled a drop of the poisoned wine I'd stolen from the banquet tray before the switch.
Aelith picked it up, sniffed, then arched an eyebrow.
"I want to know who made it. And why they failed."
She gestured with her fingers—three days. Her assistant, a boy with one eye and a permanent scowl, scribbled on a chalk slate: No common venom. This was tailored.
Of course it was.
I dropped two gold coins onto the counter. "Add a contingency brew to the order. Something... dramatic. I may need to fake my death soon."
---
Last came the street boy.
I found him halfway up a wall, robbing one of the lower nobles blind through an open balcony.
I waited until he was halfway down before clearing my throat. "You're quick."
He spun, nearly fell, then hissed, "You scared me half to death!"
"Good," I said. "Means you're still useful."
The boy was maybe ten, wiry as a whip, with eyes too sharp for his age and a grin built on lies. They called him Scratch. No one knew where he came from—only that he had ears in every tavern and hands in every pocket.
"Lady Vale," he said with mock bow. "Here to arrest me?"
"Here to hire you."
He straightened.
"I need eyes in the palace. Ears in the kitchens. Someone who sees what others ignore."
"And what do I get?"
I smiled. "A future. One where you live long enough to be more than a shadow."
He considered. Then stuck out his hand. "Deal."
---
By midnight, I had a disgraced scholar, a mute alchemist, and a gutter-born thief under my banner.
The court still thought I was a villainess. An ornament on Kael's arm. A spoiled noble on her way to ruin.
Let them think that.
Queens don't need crowns. Just pieces.
And I was finally building mine.
-------------------------------------------------