5. Chapter Five - Leigh
The following evening, surrounded by Council ministerial aides, I stand in the glass-encased elevator as it ascends through the heart of the capitol building.
As we breach the cloud layer, I press my hands against the cold, tempered glass, my stomach fluttering with anticipation.
The nearest aide murmurs, “This way, Your Majesty.”
We glide down the polished hallway, my reflection shimmering on its topaz surface.
The massive crystalline doors open to reveal a soundproof room suspended in the heavens.
Windows on all sides of the Council chamber offer a breathtaking vista of swirling mist and inky darkness.
To accommodate Vyvyan and Vane’s aversion to the sun, the meeting has been moved to nighttime, and artificial light illuminates the chamber.
With its ring of sixteen cushioned chairs, the sterile space feels more diminutive than I had imagined.
As I enter, the ghosts whisper in my ears, telling me where to sit, how to behave, and when to smile.
But I ignore their chatter.
I deliberately arrived at the Council chamber early with a calculated purpose: winning over key councilors before the session begins.
My proposals are controversial, starting with the closure of asylums and the dismantling of the outdated Labor Laws, but I know which Council members might be persuaded.
Last night, Wilder advised me to maintain peace with Janus, but I won’t let her resistance delay these reforms while more witches suffer.
I can secure their support before the formal vote by sharing these plans with the more progressive councilors.
Even if Janus maintains her opposition, I’ll have built a coalition strong enough to push through these essential changes.
Let her and her conservative faction object.
I only need enough votes to pass these reforms, not universal approval.
More Council members file in, including Keris Telfour, who is on my list to talk to, but Bennett approaches first.
His navy suit makes his blond hair gleam like spun gold, and his expression barely conceals a sense of urgency when he speaks.
“Leigh,” he says.
“We need to talk about Stellan.”
“Can it wait?” I ask as Keris crosses the room to the water station in the back.
“Did you read the latest article in The Tower Tribune ?” Bennett asks.
A pit forms inside me.
“I did.”
Bennett’s pain is written across his face.
Stellan’s article exposed Hammond’s father’s crimes, and the Bishop family’s hasty departure from town only twists the knife deeper.
While I feel for him, my window of opportunity is shrinking.
I need to reach Keris before the meeting starts in ten minutes.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” I offer quickly.
“Hammond was . . . complicated. And I know the Bishops were your friends.” I shift my weight, torn between showing proper sympathy and pursuing my goal.
The reforms can’t wait, but neither can I completely ignore Bennett’s obvious distress.
“Huh? I am not talking about Hammond,” Bennett says.
“I am worried that Stellan might be taking things too far. The photos he posted should never have seen the light of day.” Bennett’s phone then chirps incessantly.
I pause, not recalling any photos accompanying Evander Bishop’s grave robbing article.
“What photos?”
“The ones of an inebriated Keris at the Little Death with a curvy brunette,” Bennett whispers.
“Keris Telfour?” I ask.
His phone dings again.
“Someone’s trying to reach you.”
Bennett shrugs.
“It’s my grandmother.”
He turns the phone over, presumably to silence it, but not before I glimpse the screen.
The name that flashes isn’t Grandmother , as he claims.
It’s Corvina.
My eyes narrow.
The only Corvina I know is my brother’s ex, Corvina Miller.
She’s a Nebula Cosmic Witch and has been out of the picture since their breakup two years ago.
Fynn dumped her for Gianna, and she didn’t take it well.
I squint at Bennett, recalling how we had moved past the lies after he went public about his time with Eos.
He had given a story to the newspapers, claiming that his grandmother, Edith, a former councilwoman, had dementia and was unfit for office.
This was done to take her spot on the Council, which Eos orchestrated to ensure Bennett’s vote for Elio in the upcoming election.
Even though Edith and the public had forgiven him for his crimes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that old habits die hard.
Even if he committed such crimes to help me.
“Oh, how is Edith?” I ask, giving him a chance to come clean.
“Fine,” Bennett answers, his eyes not quite meeting mine behind his glasses.
“It’s the anniversary of my parents’ death.”
My heart constricts, both from sympathy and annoyance.
Why is Bennett lying?
Before I can press further, Keris takes his seat closest to mine, his azure eyes swirling with caution as he surveys the room.
Now is the time to talk to him.
He is a minnow in a room full of piranhas.
He could use an ally like me after Stellan’s article.
I squeeze Bennett’s shoulder.
The gesture feels hollow.
“Don’t worry about Stellan. I’m sure the scandal will blow over soon.”
I leave Bennett, who looks torn between chasing after me and throwing his phone at my head.
“Good evening, Keris,” I say, settling into my chair.
Keris Telfour dips his chin.
“Your Majesty.”
“I heard about the article.” He flinches at my words.
“I am sorry someone leaked photos of you and your date. I’ve been in a similar position countless times before.”
“I don’t understand why someone would take those photos in the first place or how Stellan spun a story using them to claim I am unfit for office because of my leisurely activities.” Keris sighs.
“You see, we were in one of the private rooms at Little Death. Someone must have followed us there to capture those photos.”
I blink, remembering that Little Death has numerous private rooms.
During my first visit, Vane and I conversed in one of them to gather information about the letters.
There, I discovered his gifts don’t work on Lunar Witches, revealing that he had guessed my secret but chose not to say anything.
This proved his trustworthiness and good nature.
I glance toward the door.
There is no sign of Vane or Vyvyan.
Have I miscalculated in my efforts to bring them to the table?
I meet Bennett’s questioning gaze beside me.
“Where is everyone?”
As seconds turn into minutes, with no sign of Janus or the vampires, my attention drifts around the room.
The tension is palpable, with each Council member eyeing the others with suspicion they barely conceal.
Stellan’s articles have sown seeds of distrust, which now bear bitter fruit.
“Keris, I hoped to have your support today?—”
“I just heard from the president,” a councilor interrupts.
“She isn’t coming.”
I sit straighter.
“Did she say why?”
“No, ma’am,” the councilor replies as he slips his phone into his pocket.
My eyes narrow.
Is she unwell?
Janus seemed healthy in our audience yesterday.
“No matter, we can still present without her.”
Bennett shakes his head.
“Protocol states that without the president present to call the vote, we can’t make any presentations.”
“Are you kidding?” I demand.
“Sorry, those are the rules, Leigh.” Bennett sounds anything but sorry.
My hands tremble as nervous conversation fills the chamber.
The president’s unexplained absence leaves me no choice but to act now.
These changes can’t wait.
Within ninety days, we could transform the asylums from prisons into sanctuaries.
By abolishing the Labor Laws, we could ease the suffocating tension gripping our nation.
I had planned to speak with Keris and others first, but another week of delay means another week of the witches suffering.
I won’t let that happen.
I stand.
“Although the president is missing”—all eyes drift toward me; a few narrow their eyes— “I would still like to propose my changes to you all.”
A few members whisper to each other.
I strain to hear what they say, but I can’t, as Keris asks, “You want to breach protocol?”
“What I’ve been working on could change things for the better,” I begin, but someone interjects.
“You’re new here, Your Majesty, but we have rules for a reason. We need order now more than ever, which is why I must insist we wait for Janus,” a female Epsilon councilor with gray hair and green eyes says.
My stomach turns as another councilor, a Nebula, exhales before saying, “Our focus shouldn’t be on governing policies. Not when Stellan Navis is attacking the Council. He knows things about us, and I fear none of us is safe from his pen. How do we expect the nation to listen to us when they are busy listening to him?”
“I agree,” someone else says, a man from one of the oldest Epsilon families in Corona.
“Stellan means to take us down. The information he shares is unsettling. It’s dividing the populace. Those for and against us.”
“How did Stellan even get those photos, Keris?” someone else asks, and Keris shakes his head.
“Who else here was at Little Death last night?” someone asks.
No one says anything, and Keris scoffs.
“We can subpoena the video footage from the vampires. You can’t hide. You might as well speak up.”
“I was there,” someone says, and Keris’s gaze turns murderous.
“But I didn’t see you.”
“Neither did I,” another says.
My breath catches.
Anyone could have sent those photos, but Stellan bragged about his source being on the Council.
My gaze falls on one person after another.
They could all be lying.
“We are losing focus,” I say, but no one listens.
“What if you sent Stellan those photos to draw the blame away from yourself that you are working with Stellan, Keris?” another councilor asks.
“Your brother is Nebula. Perhaps you are trying to avenge him after what the letters revealed.”
Keris balks.
“I wouldn’t send photos of myself having sexual intercourse , you moron.”
The room erupts into chaos, accusations flying.
I wish I could reassure them, but I can’t.
Someone is using the War Letters to justify helping Stellan, turning the country’s leaders against each other.
We won’t see eye to eye until we find the mole .
.
.
who could be sitting in this room or working with someone connected to Stellan.
As the shouting continues, the overhead lights flicker.
A breath later, the room plunges into darkness.
Confused murmurs reach my ears as I blink, trying to adjust to the sudden darkness.
As the councilors realize that the power has gone out, I go to the window and squint through the glass.
I witness the lights across the city extinguish, block by block.
My hands are clammy.
Is this some kind of protest?
It’s happening , the ghosts whisper in my ears.
“What’s the meaning of this?” a panicked voice calls out.
“It must be an attack!” another shouts.
“Are we being invaded?” Bennett asks.
I clutch my chest above my ricocheting heart.
The memory of the paw prints in Glaucus surfaces.
Could this be it?
Have the wolves finally arrived?
Grandmother left for the north this morning, and although she called to confirm her arrival, a chilling thought grips me.
What if she was too late?
As if on cue, guards shuffle into the room, their faces grim in the emergency lighting.
My adrenaline spikes.
One announces, “Your Majesty, Council members, the entire city has lost power. We need to get the queen to safety immediately.”
As the guards usher me out, I glance back at the chamber one last time.
The dim light reveals the panic etched on every face, perfectly reflecting my rising terror.
Everyone fears the worst, whatever may be happening out there.
I have a strong urge to invite them all home and offer them safety and protection, but the knowledge of a traitor in our midst stops me.
Navigating through the shadowy corridors, an unsettling sensation grips me, whispering that this blackout is merely the prelude to something far more sinister.
A gnawing terror of the unknown has replaced my once-unshakable certainty and I am woefully unprepared for what lies ahead.