Chapter 4: Pillars and Poison Ribbons

The council chamber smelled like old wax and fresher desperation that morning. Sunlight slanted through the high windows, catching dust motes that swirled like they had nowhere better to be.

I sat at the long table in my usual severe braid and charcoal tunic, trying to look like the kingdom's unflappable shadow. My mind, however, kept replaying how Garrett and I had finally slipped out of that gods-damned passage at dawn after Liora's footsteps faded.

King Elias fidgeted with his signet ring at the head of the table. His silver-streaked hair caught the light in a way that made him look older than fifty-two. Garrett lounged two seats down, all golden-brown composure and those penetrating eyes that kept flicking my direction.

Liora, of course, had claimed the spot directly across from me. Her poison-green gown stood out like a warning against the marble.

"Matters of border security," Elias began, his voice carrying that anxious formality. "With General Albright's arrival looming, we must present a united front. Spymaster Evensong, your latest report?"

I opened my mouth to deliver the carefully edited version I'd rehearsed while bolting back to my rooms. Liora beat me to it.

"Perhaps the spymaster has been... otherwise occupied." Her smile showed too many teeth. She tapped one manicured nail on the table, the sound sharp as a blade being whetted. "Rumors suggest certain alliances forming that might compromise our position. With Elandor emissaries, specifically."

The air thickened. I kept my face blank, but my fingers found the end of my braid under the table and began twirling it. Garrett's expression didn't change, but I caught the subtle flex of his hand against his thigh.

"Rumors, Lady Voss?" Elias asked, though his eyes darted to me. "Or evidence? We can't afford vague accusations when blood might be demanded within days."

Liora leaned forward, green eyes gleaming. "Evidence is such a strong word. Let's call it observation. The emissary and our dear Greta have been seen in... close proximity. Gardens. Passages. Moments that suggest her loyalty might be bending toward more personal considerations. One might wonder if the spymaster is protecting Solara or herself."

My neck burned. I touched the empty spot where my poison vial usually hung and forced my voice into clipped elegance.

"If we're trading observations, Liora, I've noted your habit of skulking in hidden networks that don't belong to you." I met her gaze evenly. "The passages are for royal use, not personal vendettas. As for proximity to the emissary, it's called diplomacy. Something you might study between journaling everyone's weaknesses."

Garrett's laugh came too loud, that deflection tactic I was starting to recognize. It filled the chamber like he found the whole thing genuinely amusing.

"I must say, this council exceeds expectations for entertainment. Lady Voss, if you have specific charges, present them. Otherwise, perhaps allow the spymaster to do her job without interruption."

His defense should have loosened the knot in my chest. It pulled tighter instead. Why defend me in front of them? Blackmail didn't need public chivalry. His brown eyes met mine for a fraction too long, and something dangerous flickered there.

Elias cleared his throat, fidgeting harder with the ring. "Enough. Greta, your report on the general's likely demands?"

I laid it out in precise sentences, detailing troop movements and potential concessions. Every word felt like balancing on a blade's edge. Liora's stare bored into me, cataloging every hesitation.

Garrett listened with apparent calm, but his fingers drummed once against the table. Another tell. He was calculating how much of this matched what he'd overheard last night.

The meeting dragged on after that in bureaucratic pettiness. Supply lists. Seating arrangements for the general's arrival. Who would stand where during formal greetings.

I contributed where needed, but my mind kept slipping back to the narrow dark of the passage. Garrett's body aligned with mine. His breath on my neck while Liora's voice drew closer. We'd barely made it out.

"One final point," Liora said as things wound down. Her voice dripped velvet venom. "I move that the spymaster be relieved of certain sensitive duties until her... associations can be verified. For the good of the realm, of course."

My jaw tightened. The king looked stricken. Garrett's posture shifted from casual lean to something sharper.

Before anyone could respond, I stood. "If the council doubts my loyalty, they may take it up with the orphans who would starve without those sensitive duties."

The words slipped out sharper than intended. Elias flinched. Garrett's eyes widened fractionally.

I swept from the chamber before anyone could reply, my braid swinging like a whip. The heavy door thudded behind me, echoing down the marble hall. My heart hammered against my ribs with the sick certainty that I'd just handed Liora more ammunition.

Footsteps followed. I didn't need to turn to know it was him.

---

"That was masterful," Garrett said, voice low and teasing as he caught up. "Truly. Mentioning the orphans in open council? Bold strategy, Spymaster. Almost like you wanted to watch it burn."

I didn't slow. The corridor stretched long and shadowed, tapestries stirring in drafts that might hide listeners. "Not now, Albright. Unless you plan to blackmail me in front of the entire court next."

His hand caught my elbow, firm but not bruising. The touch sent sparks racing up my arm. He steered me toward an alcove partially hidden by a marble pillar carved with twisting vines.

We stopped there, my back against cool stone. He didn't release me immediately. Instead he crowded closer, one arm braced beside my head. His scent wrapped around me—leather, warm skin, faint trace of night-blooming flowers.

"What are you planning to do with me, Greta?" The question came soft, but his eyes held steel. "You've had opportunities. That hairpin last night. The dagger under your pillow. You could have let Liora find us."

My breath caught. The pillar dug into my spine. I could see the faint scar peeking above his collar, a reminder of everything that should keep us apart.

"I considered it," I said, voice barely above a whisper. "In the passage, with your body against mine and her voice coming closer. One quick strike. Blame it on her."

His free hand came up, fingers tracing my jaw with deliberate slowness. The gentleness of it made my throat tight. "And yet here I stand. Why?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't. Instead I tilted my head, letting his thumb brush my lower lip. My pulse kicked up, warm and traitorous.

"Liar," he murmured, no heat in it, only something rueful that scared me more than anger would have. "You blush when I call you competent, yet you lie about wanting me dead. Which is it?"

The challenge hung between us. I should have pushed him away. Cited duty. The orphans. The king. Instead my hands found his coat, fingers curling into the fabric.

"This is dangerous," I breathed. My voice cracked on the last word. "You make me sloppy. One genuine feeling and people die."

Garrett's laugh was soft this time, the kind that vibrated through his chest into mine. "And yet you haven't stopped me from seeing you. I know what those children mean to you, Greta. I know you're trying to fix what the world broke."

His words landed hard. I surged up and kissed him before I could think better of it. His mouth met mine with equal hunger, tasting faintly of the sweet wine from council.

One of his hands tangled in my braid, loosening it with impatient tugs until platinum strands fell down my back. The other gripped my hip, pulling me flush against him. Heat flooded through me at every point of contact.

This wasn't the calculated seduction I'd planned at the start. This was messy need that made my knees weak. I wanted to forget Liora, the general, everything. My fingers found that scar at his collarbone, tracing it through his shirt.

He broke the kiss to trail his mouth along my jaw, down my throat. Hot breath, the graze of teeth. "Tell me to stop," he murmured against my skin, voice rough. "Say the word and I'll walk away. But know this isn't blackmail anymore. I want you. The liar, the protector, all of it."

My head fell back against the pillar. I couldn't say stop. Instead I pulled him closer, leg hooking around his. The friction drew a low curse from him, his hips rolling against mine.

Desire blurred with danger. My skin flushed hot. A distant door slammed somewhere down the hall and we froze, bodies still tangled, foreheads pressed together.

"We can't keep doing this in corners," I whispered, though my hands refused to let go of his coat. My braid hung loose now, a platinum mess he kept touching.

His thumb stroked my cheekbone. "Then stop running from what this is. Midnight. Council chamber. We talk about the general, the cover-up... and us."

I nodded once, not trusting my voice. He brushed one last kiss against my temple, surprisingly gentle, then slipped away toward the main halls. I lingered a moment longer, fingers pressed to lips that still tingled, my usual sharp inner commentary suspiciously quiet.

This was bad. I was choosing not to eliminate the threat. The admission sat heavy but undeniable. Garrett had seen past the spymaster, and instead of destroying me, he'd offered something that felt like care.

I made my way back to my chambers on unsteady legs. The door clicked shut behind me. The space felt different now, less sanctuary.

I crossed to my desk, intending to review the latest intercepts. My coded ledger lay open on the polished wood. Not in its usual hidden compartment. Pages neatly flattened as if someone had copied them.

My stomach dropped. A note rested on the most damning page, handwriting elegant and unmistakably Garrett's.

I know what these children mean to you. Meet me at midnight. We need to stop pretending this is still blackmail.

Pinned beneath it like a warning lay Liora's poison-green ribbon.

The room tilted. How had he accessed this? When? And why return it? My mind spun through possibilities, each worse than the last. The ribbon suggested Liora had been here too, or that Garrett had taken it from her.

A knock sounded at the door. I shoved the ledger away, ribbon and note clutched in my fist. "Enter."

A page stepped in, bowing low. "Message from Lady Voss, Spymaster. She requests your presence in the east wing at your earliest convenience. Something about returning lost property."

I touched the ribbon in my palm, its silk cool against my skin. My pulse hadn't slowed since the pillar. Now it carried fresh dread too.

"Tell her I'll be there shortly." The page bowed and left.

Alone again, I stared at Garrett's note. The tenderness in it warred with Liora's ribbon. Midnight. No more games.

But games were all I knew. And the stakes had just climbed higher than kingdoms.

I twirled the green ribbon around my finger, watching it twist. The warmth from that alcove still lingered on my skin, pulling me toward whatever waited in the council chamber. Elimination was off the table. Trust still felt impossible. But some surrenders were starting to feel inevitable.