The first assassination attempt came disguised as etiquette.
Heidi discovered this while trying to eat breakfast.
The tray arrived gilded and absurdly heavy, delivered by two servants who bowed low and didn't meet her eyes. The spread was excessive—fruit cut into impossible shapes, pastries dusted with gold sugar, a porcelain bowl of pale blue broth that steamed faintly.
She stared at it.
Then at Lucian, who stood by the window like a storm given bones.
"I asked for bread," she said. "Just bread. With butter. Preferably yesterday's."
Lucian didn't turn. "Do not touch the soup."
She froze, spoon halfway to the bowl. "That obvious?"
"Yes."
She pushed the tray away with her foot. "I hate mornings."
Lucian crossed the room, picked up the bowl, and flung it out the open window without ceremony. It shattered somewhere far below.
A heartbeat later, a scream echoed from the courtyard.
Heidi winced. "Oops."
"It was diluted nightshade," he said calmly. "Enough to weaken you. Not kill."
She stared at him. "That's worse."
"They want to see what happens when you are… softened."
Her stomach turned. "I didn't even get to taste it."
A knock sounded—sharp, urgent.
Before Lucian could answer, the door burst open and Heidi's second brother strode in like he owned the palace.
Elias Brooks did not bow.
He surveyed the room, took in the discarded tray, the tension in Lucian's posture, and Heidi's bare feet on cold marble.
"Ah," Elias said mildly. "Attempt number one, I presume?"
Heidi blinked. "There are numbers?"
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "You were not summoned."
Elias smiled thinly. "I came anyway."
He turned to Heidi. "You should eat nothing prepared by anyone you do not personally threaten."
"That's… unsettlingly specific," she said.
"It's court survival," he replied. "Congratulations. You've been promoted from novelty to liability."
Lucian's jaw clenched. "She is under my protection."
Elias arched a brow. "So was your predecessor."
The silence that followed was lethal.
Heidi stepped between them without thinking. "Okay, no history lessons before breakfast. What's happening?"
Elias exhaled. "The Council has split. Three factions."
"Let me guess," Heidi said. "One hates me. One hates me more politely. And one wants me dead."
"Correct," Elias said. "In that order."
Lucian turned away, fury coiling tight. "Names."
"Not yet," Elias said. "I don't hand over knives until I know whose hand they'll end up in."
Lucian's power flared—subtle, but the air thickened, shadows bending toward him.
Heidi grabbed his sleeve.
"Hey," she said softly. "Don't."
He looked down at her.
The storm stilled.
Elias watched this exchange with sharp interest. "You really do anchor him," he murmured.
"I don't know what that means," Heidi said, "but it sounds like work, and I resent it."
Despite everything, Elias smiled.
"There will be a formal challenge," he said. "Public. Ritualized. They'll claim tradition."
Lucian's voice was iron. "I will refuse."
"They'll force it," Elias replied. "If not through you, then through her."
Heidi straightened. "What kind of challenge?"
Elias hesitated.
Then: "A Trial of Accord."
Lucian went very still.
"No," he said.
Heidi looked between them. "That bad?"
"It binds the candidate to the realm," Elias explained carefully. "Mind. Body. Fate."
"And if she fails?" Lucian asked.
"She won't die," Elias said. "Not immediately."
Heidi crossed her arms. "I feel like that's not comforting."
Lucian stepped closer to her, voice low and fierce. "You will not do this."
She tilted her head up. "Do I get a say?"
"Yes," he said instantly.
She studied his face—fear barely contained beneath command.
Then she sighed. "Then I say… I want to know what they're afraid of."
Lucian's breath hitched. "Heidi—"
"If they're willing to poison soup," she said quietly, "they'll do worse. I don't want to hide while you bleed the world for me."
Elias watched her with something like respect.
Lucian cupped her face. "I can end this."
"I know," she said. "That's what scares me."
The bells rang again—three short tolls.
Summons.
Lucian closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, the Emperor was back in full.
"Prepare the Hall," he said. "I will attend."
Elias nodded once. "I'll walk her."
Lucian's head snapped up. "Absolutely not."
Elias smirked. "Relax. I value my organs."
Heidi leaned in and kissed Lucian's cheek—quick, grounding.
"I'll be fine," she whispered. "Try not to start a war while I'm gone."
He watched her leave like a man watching the sun set before battle.
—
The Hall of Accord was older than the throne.
Its stones pulsed faintly with old magic, veins of light tracing sigils in the floor. Nobles filled the balconies, whispers buzzing like flies.
Heidi walked barefoot onto the circle.
She felt the magic recognize her.
It stirred.
The Oracle stood opposite her, eyes glowing brighter than before.
"State your name," the Oracle commanded.
"Heidi Brooks," she said clearly.
"And your claim."
Heidi glanced at Lucian—at his rigid posture, the way his hands trembled behind his back.
"My claim," she said slowly, "is that I choose him."
A murmur rolled through the hall.
The magic surged.
The Oracle's brows knit. "This trial tests harmony with the realm. Not affection."
"Too bad," Heidi said. "They're connected."
The first sigil ignited.
Pain bloomed—sharp, bright, but not overwhelming.
She gritted her teeth.
Images flashed—famine, war, blood on marble, Lucian alone on a throne surrounded by ghosts.
Her knees buckled.
Lucian stepped forward.
The magic lashed out.
He stopped.
Heidi gasped—and laughed weakly.
"Oh," she breathed. "That's what you've been carrying."
The magic shifted.
Responded.
The second sigil flared—and dimmed.
Whispers turned to shouts.
"This has never happened—"
"She's absorbing it—"
"No, she's—redirecting—"
The Oracle's voice shook. "Impossible."
Heidi stood straighter, pain fading into warmth.
"I'm lazy," she said breathlessly. "But I don't abandon what I love."
The final sigil activated.
The hall went silent.
Light wrapped around her—and then burst outward, washing the room in gold.
When it faded, Heidi stood untouched.
The magic bowed.
The Oracle dropped to one knee.
"So does the realm," she whispered.
Lucian exhaled a broken sound.
Heidi looked at him and grinned, exhausted but glowing.
"Guess I passed."
Outside, the empire reeled.
Inside, the war had just begun.