📍 Chapter 65 – When Enemies Whisper
The rains arrived before dawn.
They came like drums — heavy, relentless, beating against the roof of the royal tower. Zara stood by the arched window in her cloak, watching the storm flood the courtyard.
She didn't flinch at the thunder.
Rain never scared her.
But silence did.
And for the past three nights, she'd heard nothing from the Raven's side — no messengers caught, no whisper of plots. Just eerie quiet.
Too quiet.
Zaire walked in, boots damp, eyes heavy with thought.
"They've gone underground," he said simply.
Zara nodded. "That's worse than seeing them."
"They're planning."
"They always are."
Zaire removed his coat and came to stand beside her. "We're preparing new guard rotations. But even that won't help if there's another snake inside."
"There always is," Zara said.
She ran a hand down her stomach.
The child had been quiet all night.
She hoped it was rest.
Not retreat.
---
By midday, Leva returned from her spying trip to the outer wall towns.
She was soaked to the bone, her braid tangled and her cloak muddy — but her eyes were sharp as ever.
Zara met her in the old strategy room, now converted to her private council chamber.
Leva laid out a folded map, dripping water onto the table.
"They've moved," she said flatly. "The Raven's network has pulled completely out of the border towns. They're not trying to bribe nobles anymore."
"Then what?" Zara asked.
"They're buying weapons."
Zara froze.
Leva pointed to three towns circled in red. "Mass imports of iron. Two blacksmiths who previously worked for the Queen's army are now reported missing. One warehouse — full of arrowheads — burnt down last night. No bodies."
Zara clenched her fists. "They're preparing for violence."
Leva didn't deny it.
"The Queen's arrest didn't stop them. It gave them a martyr. And you…" she looked at Zara carefully, "...you gave them a symbol."
Zara's brow furrowed.
Leva stepped closer.
"They don't see you as just the consort now. They see you as the one who tore their web down. The one who exposed the Queen. The pregnant peasant girl who dared to act like a ruler."
Zara looked her straight in the eye.
"Good. Then they'll know whose face to fear when the sword swings."
---
That evening, Zara called a meeting — not of the full court, but of her own private circle.
Leva. Marna. Tavi. Two new women: a former scout named Rowen and a mute scribe named Elri.
Zara stood at the head of the long oak table. No crown on her head. No jewels. Just her hands resting on the smooth wood and a small, growing belly that showed the truth of her condition.
"We're going to lose pieces of the kingdom," she said simply. "No matter what. We can't stop every blade or bribe. So instead, we control the heart."
Rowen nodded. "We secure the palace."
"Not just the walls," Zara replied. "The loyalty. We need the people inside this building to believe in something other than fear."
Tavi leaned forward. "How?"
Zara's gaze was steady. "With truth."
---
The next morning, Zara stood before a crowd of nearly seventy servants, kitchen workers, guards, and couriers.
They filled the lower courtyard in the rain.
She didn't wear a crown.
She didn't have to.
Zara's voice carried over the wind as she stood atop the steps, her hands folded across her belly.
"You've heard rumors," she began. "That I'm not from noble blood. That I married into this palace by force. That I carry a child born of scandal."
She paused.
The crowd watched in silent tension.
"All of it is true."
Whispers rippled.
Zara raised her chin. "And still I stand here — because I do not believe royalty is written in blood. I believe it is written in sacrifice. In survival. In doing what must be done, even when no one claps for it."
She looked out at them, drenched and staring.
"The Queen who sat on this throne before me used fear. She poisoned those who questioned her. She bought silence."
She stepped down one stair.
"I will not do the same. I will protect this palace, this crown, and every person in it — not because of what title I wear, but because of the life I carry."
Her hand rested on her belly.
"I will not let my child be born into another reign of terror."
Silence.
Then — one hand clapped.
Then two.
Then more.
And then the whole courtyard roared.
Not out of fear.
But out of *belief.*
Zara stepped back as Leva appeared beside her.
"You just turned servants into an army."
Zara exhaled. "Good. We'll need one."
---
But that night, the storm returned.
This time, not in the sky.
---
Zaire burst into her chamber just before midnight.
His shirt was soaked with blood.
Not his.
Zara ran forward, catching his arms. "What happened?!"
"One of the northern lords," he said breathlessly. "Lord Arem. Loyal to us. Found dead in his camp. They slit his throat and left a mark."
Zara froze. "What mark?"
Zaire reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded cloth.
She opened it.
The Raven's sigil — drawn in red ash.
And beneath it, a single phrase:
> "A child born in a palace of liars cannot be king."
Zara's hands shook.
They weren't just declaring war.
They were threatening her child.
---
She didn't sleep that night.
Instead, she stood in the nursery chamber — empty, echoing, freshly painted and waiting — and stared at the tiny crib being carved for her.
And she thought:
*What if I die before this child learns my name?*
*What if they grow up believing fear is safer than love?*
*What if the walls fall before they can even walk?*
She pressed both hands to her belly.
"I will not let them steal your future," she whispered. "I will burn this kingdom down first."
---
The next morning, Zara summoned her full circle — and Zaire.
She pointed to the map of the Raven's last location and made her decision.
"No more waiting," she said. "We send envoys north. Not to beg. Not to negotiate. But to make it clear: if one more body turns up with my child's name on their lips, we will erase the entire bloodline of whoever sent the order."
Leva blinked. "That's war."
Zara nodded. "Then let it be war."
Zaire looked at her — the girl he had married, now replaced with a woman crowned in resolve.
He took her hand.
And whispered, "I'll stand beside you. Every step."
She nodded, but didn't smile.
Because she wasn't fighting to rule.
She was fighting to protect the only future she had left.
And this time, it wouldn't be the crown they feared.
It would be **the mother who would kill to defend it.**