TREASON HAS A NAME AND A FAMILY NAME
The hall was still breathing lies when the first attempt happened.
Subtle.
Foolish.
Two guards moving too quickly near the eastern wing.
A servant changing routes.
The scent of anxiety drifting through the corridor like cold sweat.
Estela noticed immediately.
Of course she did.
Traitors always believe intelligence means acting unseen.
But truly dangerous people learn to recognize broken patterns.
She did not even need to speak.
She merely raised two fingers.
Her knights moved.
Silence.
Swift violence.
One body slammed against a wall.
Another had his throat pinned against marble before he could even reach the lower staircase.
And then...
the name escaped.
— Andrea...!
A fatal mistake.
The corridor froze.
Andrea stopped midway through her escape.
Elegant.
Composed.
Dressed in dark blue as always.
The perfect diplomat.
The woman who spoke too softly.
Who smiled too little.
Who observed too much.
Her eyes met Estela's.
And in that instant...
there was no mask left.
Only calculation.
Only hatred.
— So it was you... — Estela murmured.
Andrea smiled.
Slowly.
— It took you long enough.
Behind her, two members of the Lower Council instinctively stepped back.
Cowards.
Always cowards.
— Dandara carries my blood, — Andrea said, no longer bothering to deny anything. — And she should occupy the place that belongs to her.
One elder paled.
Another looked away.
And that was when the truth finished rotting at the center of the hall.
The Lower Council.
Conspiring.
Buying votes.
Manipulating the succession.
Trying to replace the Moon's chosen heir... with a pliable Omega.
Controllable.
Manageable.
Estela descended the steps slowly.
Her eyes burned far too brightly with gold.
Far too dangerous.
— You conspired against the heir marked by the Goddess, — she said, her voice low. — Inside my kingdom.
No one answered.
Because even the guilty could feel it.
The air began to vibrate.
The wolf inside her was rising.
Andrea laughed.
And that...
that was a colossal mistake.
— Chosen? — she spat. — Elizabeth is a curse draped in silver. She always has been.
The silence turned deadly.
— Dandara would have brought stability to Solari, — Andrea continued. — An obedient Luna. A fertile womb. A queen who—
Estela moved.
Not human.
Not anymore.
The crack of bones echoed through the corridor as she shifted into a partial transformation.
Claws.
Fangs.
Monstrously golden eyes.
Andrea shifted as well.
A she-wolf with pale, almost golden fur.
Large.
Fast.
Furious.
They collided.
The impact fractured the wall beside them.
Nobles screamed.
Guards rushed forward.
Too late.
The two were already on the floor, tearing through marble and flesh with a violence too ancient to seem civilized.
Andrea lunged for her throat.
Estela ripped away part of her shoulder.
Blood splattered across the columns.
The diplomat smiled despite the wound.
Madness.
— You lost! — Andrea snarled. — While you protect an empty throne—
Estela smashed her head into the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The marble caved beneath the force.
But Andrea still laughed.
Still laughed.
— She's already dead! — she screamed.
The two wolves burst through the grand doors of the hall at the same instant.
Wood exploded.
They rolled into the center of the gathered nobility.
The banquet died.
Completely.
Screams.
Shattering goblets.
Guards drawing weapons.
And at the center of it all...
Estela pinned Andrea against the floor while her knights finally restrained the traitor.
Even captured...
Andrea smiled.
Blood running between her teeth.
Eyes shining with sick triumph.
— By now... — she gasped, laughing softly — not even the Moon Goddess would recognize what remains of Elizabeth.
Silence.
Complete.
Fatal.
— The rogues have probably finished tearing her apart... — she continued, delirious with pride. — Those filthy beasts have waited years for an opportunity like this.
A pause.
Her smile widened.
— Your heir was delivered directly into the hands of monsters.
The entire hall felt it.
The shift.
The terror.
The fury.
But no one...
no one felt it more than Estela.
Because for one second...
just one...
the queen saw no politics.
No conspiracy.
She saw a girl.
Too tall.
Too elegant.
Silver-gold eyes.
Sitting beside her in silence, drinking tea.
Elizabeth.
And then...
something inside Estela became perfectly still.
Worse than rage.
Far worse.
She rose slowly.
Blood dripping from her hands.
Her dress.
Her mouth.
Golden eyes fixed upon Andrea.
Without haste.
Without humanity.
— Lock away the council, — she ordered.
Her voice emerged calm.
Far too calm.
— All of them.
The nobles froze.
Because they understood.
The Queen was no longer trying to prevent a crisis.
She was deciding who would survive it.
Estela walked toward Andrea once more.
Stopped before the fallen she-wolf.
And smiled.
Small.
Terrible.
— If Elizabeth is dead... — she said quietly — I will turn Solari into a kingdom so cruel that the Moon herself will look away from us.
Not even the guards breathed.
Because every one of them believed her.
Even Andrea.
And for the first time that night...
the traitor seemed to understand that she had just created something far worse than any monster lurking within the forests.