The Queen's Mage

Only a few days later, the council chamber looked as though someone had declared war on paper.

Pamphlets covered nearly half the table.

Not one design.

Dozens.

Some were printed on cheap gray stock, others on finer paper clearly intended for wealthier readers. Different fonts. Different illustrations. Different slogans.

The only thing they shared was Serali.

Harrek entered carrying another bundle beneath one arm.

He dropped it onto the growing pile. ”They’ve printed another edition.”

Marielle reached for the top sheet.

She read the title aloud.

”’The Stolen Princess.’”

She picked up another.

”’The Night King’s Daughter Held Against Her Will.’”

Another.

”’The Curse Continues.’”

She frowned. ”They’re becoming repetitive.”

”They’re becoming thorough,” Harrek corrected.

He began sorting the pile into two neat stacks.

”Lyehiran.”

”Avalusian.”

Serali’s eyes moved to the second stack.

She had expected the first.

Not the second.

Marielle reached for one.

”’How Much Does the Queen Know?’”

Another.

”’The Night King’s Daughter Now Advises Your Queen.’”

Another.

”’When War Comes, Which Blood Will She Obey?’”

Serali felt her stomach tighten.

None of them accused her directly.

They did something worse. They asked questions.

Questions invited people to answer them for themselves.

Harrek noticed where her attention had settled. ”They’re written differently.”

He laid one pamphlet from each stack side by side. ”In Lyehira...”

He tapped the first. ”...the Royal Mage is a stolen princess imprisoned by a foreign queen.”

His finger moved to the Avalusian version.

”In Avalusia...”

”...she is a hidden danger already inside the palace.”

The illustration showed a crown casting a shadow shaped like grasping hands.

He looked around the table.

”This campaign was planned before King Vulmar’s letter ever crossed the border.”

Veryya nodded once. ”Our response has not yet reached Lyehira.”

”No,” Harrek agreed. ”Which means these were never intended as an answer to us.”

Daravan folded his arms. ”He never meant to wait.”

No one argued.

Harrek continued. ”Our investigation suggests at least six separate printing houses inside Avalusia.”

He glanced toward Merrow. ”None of them knew who commissioned the work.”

”Professional intermediaries?”

”Almost certainly.”

Another page joined the growing pile.

”The Lyehiran versions appear to have been prepared by the royal press.”

He tapped the Avalusian stack.

”These were not.”

”Different paper.”

”Different type.”

”Different distribution.”

”But the same message.”

Serali looked down at the pamphlets. ”They all ask the same question.”

Harrek nodded.

”They’re trying to make people doubt what they’ve already seen.”

Silence settled over the room.

”The campaign isn’t meant to convince loyal Lyehirans that you were stolen.”

His gaze met Serali’s. ”They already believe that.”

He shifted to the Avalusian stack.

”It’s meant to convince Avalusians that they’ve misunderstood you.”

Another pause.

”Suspicion is easier to plant than hatred. It asks people to wonder.”

”Wonder whether blood matters more than choice.”

”Wonder whether loyalty survives family.”

”Wonder whether the Crown made a mistake.”

He let the words settle. ”Questions spread further than accusations.”

Veryya folded her hands. ”There are three audiences.”

She raised three fingers.

”Lyehira.”

One finger lowered.

”Avalusia.”

Another.

”The neutral kingdoms.”

She looked around the table. ”Each requires a different answer.”

Yvander frowned. ”Can we still influence Lyehira?”

Serali answered before anyone else could. ”No.”

Everyone looked toward her.

”Most people there will never read our response.”

She picked up one of the pamphlets. ”They’ll hear these read aloud. In temples, in taverns, at the market.”

This story originates from NovelPhoenix. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

She turned the paper over in her hands. ”You cannot argue someone out of a story they believe their grandparents lived.”

Veryya inclined her head. ”Our response is for the courts.”

She tapped her legal brief. ”Not for Lyehira.”

”And Avalusia?” Allandra asked.

Hagen leaned back. ”That’s more complicated.”

He glanced toward the confiscated broadsheets before looking around the table.

”The common people and the nobility aren’t asking the same questions. The common people are asking whether the woman they’ve watched become Royal Mage has been lying to them.”

”They’re wondering whether the Queen knew.”

”They’re frightened.”

He paused. ”The nobility are frightened too.”

”They’re simply expressing it differently.”

He counted quietly on his fingers. ”They’re counting treaties, military alliances, supply lines.”

”They’re asking whether appointing a Lyehiran to the council has handed King Vulmar the justification he’s been looking for.”

Merrow gave a reluctant nod. ”Some of those conversations began before this letter.”

His eyes met Serali’s briefly. ”I won’t pretend otherwise.”

”No,” Hagen agreed quietly. ”You won’t.”

He picked up one of the newer broadsheets.

”But they’ve changed.”

He laid it flat on the table. ”Questioning the Royal Mage’s appointment is one thing.”

His finger tapped the headline. ”Questioning the Queen is another.”

Silence settled over the chamber.

Hagen looked toward Allandra. ”The word unfit has begun appearing.”

No one spoke.

”Quietly, in private drawing rooms. In correspondence between certain houses.”

He let out a slow breath. ”I’ve heard that word before.”

The room remained still. ”After the Mantle chose Her Majesty.”

Another pause.

”I had hoped I never would again.”

Merrow’s expression tightened.

”There is a difference,” he said carefully, ”between questioning a decision...”

He looked down at the pamphlet.

”...and questioning the sovereign who made it.”

His voice remained steady. ”I have done the first.”

He pushed the broadsheet away.

”I will not be party to the second.”

Harrek nodded slowly. ”So the pamphlets aren’t only trying to turn the kingdom against the Royal Mage.”

”No,” Hagen said.

”They’re trying to turn the kingdom against the Queen.”

The room fell quiet.

Harrek was the first to speak. ”The campaign isn’t trying to persuade everyone of the same thing.”

He looked toward the broadsheets spread across the table.

”The common people are meant to fear the Royal Mage.”

His gaze shifted to Allandra.

”The nobility are meant to doubt the Queen.”

He let the thought settle.

”If King Vulmar succeeds...”

”...he doesn’t merely discredit Lady Serali.”

”...he convinces the kingdom that trusting her was Her Majesty’s greatest mistake.”

Serali looked down at the pamphlets.

The attack had never really been about her.

She was simply the weapon pointed at someone else.

Hagen nodded once. ”Exactly.”

He tapped the table lightly. ”One story, two conclusions.”

Silence settled over the chamber.

Then Hagen spoke again. ”There’s something else.”

Everyone looked toward him.

”Not another audience. Another vulnerability.”

A pause.

”Everly.”

Allandra’s gaze sharpened immediately.

Hagen chose his next words carefully.

”Within the palace, everyone knows she’s fond of Serali.”

He smiled faintly. ”She has never been subtle.”

Despite everything, the corner of Allandra’s mouth twitched.

”They’ve seen the breakfasts. They’ve seen her seek Serali out. They’ve watched her insist that Serali belongs with the family.”

His expression sobered. ”It won’t stay inside the palace forever.”

He looked around the table.

”If people begin believing Serali is dangerous...”

”...they won’t stop with asking why she’s here.”

His gaze settled on Allandra. ”They’ll ask why the Crown Princess has been encouraged to spend time with her.”

Merrow grimaced. ”Or whether Her Majesty has endangered her own daughter.”

”Exactly,” Hagen said. ”The attack doesn’t stop with Serali. It reaches for anyone whose judgment depends on trusting her.”

The room grew quieter.

Serali felt something cold settle beneath her ribs. ”They’ll involve Everly.”

No one contradicted her.

”They already are,” Harrek admitted.

He picked up another pamphlet.

”They haven’t named her.”

”Yet.”

”But they are asking whether the Queen’s household can still be trusted.”

He set it down again. ”It doesn’t take much imagination to include the Crown Princess.”

Serali looked down at her hands. ”Then I should stop seeing her.”

The words came automatically.

”If I stop attending breakfast—”

”No.” Hagen interrupted before anyone else could.

She looked up.

His expression was unusually serious. ”If you disappear now...”

”...every rumor wins.”

Silence.

He leaned forward.

”They’ll say the palace finally realized you were dangerous.”

”They’ll say Her Majesty has quietly admitted Vulmar was right.”

Another pause.

”If Everly suddenly starts avoiding you...”

”...they’ll claim they forced it.”

Serali looked at him for a long moment. ”What do we do instead?”

”We refuse to let Vulmar decide how this family behaves.”

The words hung in the air.

Hagen glanced toward Allandra.

”Nothing changes. The breakfasts continue. Everly continues treating you exactly as she always has.”

He smiled faintly.

”Which, admittedly, involves an alarming number of pastry negotiations.”

A few quiet chuckles broke the tension.

Even Daravan’s expression softened.

Only slightly.

Allandra looked from Hagen to Serali.

”Everly doesn’t deserve to become part of this.”

”No,” Serali said softly.

”But she already is.”

No one spoke.

Daravan finally broke the silence. ”Then we protect her.”

His voice was calm. Matter-of-fact.

”As we already do.”

He looked toward Harrek. ”The palace remains secure.”

Harrek nodded. ”The breakfasts remain private. And any agent attempting to involve the Crown Princess in a foreign influence campaign...”

Harrek’s expression became almost pleasant.

”...will discover that I take a very dim view of treason.”

The silence that followed felt different.

Not fearful.

Resolved.

The silence lingered only a moment longer.

Then Allandra reached for the nearest folder. ”Very well.”

The Queen’s voice had settled into the calm certainty that always seemed to gather the room around it.

”We know the shape of the problem.”

She looked around the table. ”Now we solve it.”

She turned first to Harrek. ”The broadsheets.”

Harrek nodded once. ”My investigators are already tracing the printers.”

”I don’t care only about the printers.”

He looked up.

”I want whoever is paying them. The presses can be replaced,” Allandra continued. ”The network cannot.”

Harrek’s expression sharpened. ”I understand.”

”I also want every courier watched. Printing houses, booksellers, taverns. If someone is coordinating distribution inside Avalusia, I want names.”

”It will be done.”

Allandra turned to Yvander. ”And you’ll assist.”

Yvander looked up from the ledger he’d been quietly annotating throughout the meeting. ”Majesty?”

”Harrek will find the presses.”

”I want you to find the money.”

He frowned. ”The financiers?”

”The merchants. The shell companies. The unusual grain orders if they’re hiding paper shipments inside legitimate cargo.”

She folded her hands. ”Someone is paying for this.”

Yvander’s expression became thoughtful. ”Printing at this scale isn’t cheap.”

”No.”

He reached for one of the broadsheets, rubbing the paper between his fingers. ”This stock isn’t local.”

Harrek looked over. ”You can tell?”

”I buy paper.”

A beat.

”For tax records.”

Marielle nodded approvingly. ”An underrated skill.”

Yvander ignored her. ”If they’re importing paper in these quantities, they’ll either be paying customs...”

”...or paying someone not to ask questions.”

Harrek’s eyes narrowed. ”I hadn’t considered customs records.”

”You were looking for printers.”

Yvander shrugged. ”I’ll look for accountants.”

For the first time that morning, Harrek smiled. ”Excellent.”

Yvander closed his ledger. ”I’ll begin with the merchant guilds.”

”And if they’re laundering funds through legitimate trade...”

He gave a small, humorless smile.

”...they’ve chosen a very inconvenient kingdom to do it in.”

Allandra turned to Daravan. ”The Royal Mage.”

Daravan did not need further instruction. ”I’ll double the guard.”

Serali sighed quietly.

Daravan ignored it. ”No unnecessary movements without escort.”

”No unscheduled appearances.”

”We’ll review every route between the palace and council.”

Marielle looked up. ”Even the engineering terrace?”

”Especially the engineering terrace.”

Marielle looked mildly offended. ”It is structurally very safe.”

”I’m less concerned about the terrace than the people standing on it.”

She considered that. ”...Fair.”

Serali rubbed her forehead. ”I feel compelled to point out that I have survived nearly one hundred and fifty years without requiring this many guards.”

Daravan’s expression remained perfectly neutral. ”And yet here we are.”

Hagen coughed into his tea.

Veryya did not look up from her notes. ”The Captain appears to have won.”

”I noticed.”

Allandra turned her gaze towards Verya. ”Lady Veryya.”

Veryya closed one folder and opened another. ”I’ll continue preparing the arbitration brief.”

She began listing items almost before Allandra had finished speaking. ”Witness statements. Oath transcripts. The Royal Mage’s appointment. Precedent concerning sovereign asylum. Recognition by allied states.”

She looked toward Serali. ”I’ll also need a written statement.”

Serali blinked. ”From me?”

”Your own words will carry greater weight than mine.”

A pause.

”King Vulmar has already presumed to speak for you.”

She met Serali’s gaze.

”I would rather not repeat his mistake.”

Serali stared at her.

Then nodded.

”All right.”

Allandra’s gaze shifted further down the table.

”Lord Merrow.”

Merrow inclined his head. ”Majesty.”

”The noble houses.”

He understood immediately. ”I’ll begin meeting with them today.”

Hagen glanced sideways at him. ”Expect resistance.”

”I do.”

Merrow folded his hands. ”I’ve spent the past several months encouraging the houses to ask difficult questions.”

A quiet beat.

”I don’t regret that.”

His eyes met Serali’s. ”The appointment was unprecedented. It deserved scrutiny.”

Another pause.

”But scrutiny is not the same thing as sabotage.”

He looked down at one of the broadsheets.

”I will not allow legitimate concern to become fertile ground for King Vulmar’s propaganda.”

The words settled heavily around the table.

He looked toward Allandra. ”The Crown has made its decision.”

”I argued my position, it was heard, and it was settled.”

His voice remained calm. ”That is how governance is meant to work.”

He straightened the stack of papers before him. ”I will make that abundantly clear.”

Something eased in Serali’s chest.

Not trust.

Not yet.

Respect, perhaps.

Beside him, Hagen nodded once. ”Then we’ll divide the work.”

Merrow looked toward him. ”You persuade them.”

Hagen smiled. ”And you?”

”I’ll answer the questions after you’ve persuaded them.”

Hagen laughed. ”A familiar arrangement.”

Merrow’s mouth twitched. ”One that has worked surprisingly often.”

The assignments settled over the room like pieces finding their places on a game board.

For the first time since Vulmar’s letter had arrived, everyone knew what they were doing next.

Marielle broke the silence. ”So.”

She looked toward Serali. ”We keep working on the wall.”

Serali blinked. ”The wall?”

Marielle looked faintly puzzled. ”It is still broken.”

”...True.”

”The arrays are not going to repair themselves because King Vulmar has become inconvenient.”

Yvander rubbed his forehead. ”I suppose they won’t.”

Marielle nodded. ”So we continue.”

She looked around the table.

”The investigation.”

”The inspections.”

”The work.”

As though that settled everything, she returned to her notebook.