Page 64 of Crowned

“Decisive action without proper intelligence is reckless,” I counter, my voice steady despite the simmering frustration beneath it. “We don’t even know where they’re planning to strike next.”

“And whose fault is that?” Marlowe snaps, his eyes narrowing. “Perhaps if some of us were more focused on the task at hand, instead of indulging in...personal distractions, we’d have the answers we need.”

The jab is subtle but clear, and my jaw tightens as I meet his gaze. “Careful,” I say evenly. “You wouldn’t want to undermine the very unity we’re trying to protect.”

Before he can respond, a knock at the door interrupts the tension. An aide steps inside, her face pale. “Apologies for the interruption, but there’s been a development. You’re all needed in the Hall of Memories immediately.”

The room falls silent, the weight of her words sinking in. Without hesitation, we rise and make our way to the hall, the unease in my chest growing with every step.

The Hall of Memories is vast and echoing, its walls lined with enchanted mirrors, similar to the Queen’s mirror in her chambers. Only instead of showing glimpses of the future, these hold fragments of Aerwyna’s history. It’s a place meant for reflection and wisdom, but today it feels ominous, the air humming with magic that prickles against my skin.

Standing in the centre of the hall is one of the junior guards, his hands bound with shimmering magical restraints. I don’t know him, but he’s easily recognisable by his uniform. He looks terrified, his eyes darting around the room as though searching for an escape.

“What is this?” Marlowe demands, his voice cutting through the tension.

Reef steps forward from the shadows, his expression grim. “We caught him trying to smuggle sensitive documents out of the archives. He’s been feeding information to the Shadow Legion.”

A ripple of shock moves through the room, but I stay silent, watching, waiting. Something doesn’t sit right about this. Everything, from the timing to thesensitive documentsfeels too convenient. Staged.

The guard stammers, his voice cracking. “I–I don’t know what you’re talking about! I was just doing my job?—”

“Enough,” Reef says coldly, his eyes narrowing. He gestures to one of the mirrors, and it shimmers before revealing an image of the guard handing over a sealed scroll to a figure cloaked in shadows.

The room erupts into chaos, voices overlapping as accusations fly. But I can’t shake the feeling that this is all wrong. The guard looks genuinely terrified, his protests growing louder as the evidence mounts against him.

“Silence!” Marlowe shouts, slamming his hand against the table. “The evidence is clear. This traitor must be dealt with immediately.”

“No,” I say sharply, my voice cutting through the noise. All eyes turn to me, but I keep my gaze fixed on the guard. “He’s a distraction.”

“What are you talking about?” Marlowe snaps, his tone filled with irritation.

“He’s not the real mole,” I say, stepping forward. “He’s a pawn. Someone’s using him to divert attention from themselves.”

Marlowe’s expression darkens, but before he can respond, the guard lets out a choked sob. “It wasn’t me!” he cries. “I swear, it wasn’t me! It was Elder Marlowe! He forced me to do it!”

The room falls silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Marlowe’s face pales for a moment before twisting into anger. “This is absurd! He’s trying to save himself by throwing baseless accusations around!”

But something shifts in the room, the magic in the air growing heavier as the mirrors around us shimmer. I glance over at Malia. She’s standing before a mirror, palm outstretched, touching the glass.

One by one, the mirrors all light up under her touch, revealing fragmented images of Marlowe in secret meetings, passing information to figures cloaked in shadow.

“This is absurd!” He cried desperately. “What is she doing? How is she falsifying records? This is witchcraft!”

The betrayal hits like a physical blow, the weight of it settling in my chest as I stare at the images. Marlowe, one of the most trusted Elders, had been working against us all along.

“You,” I whisper, my voice trembling with fury. “You’ve been helping them this whole time.”

Marlowe’s expression hardens, and for a moment, I think he might deny it. But then he smiles, a cold, calculating expression that sends a chill down my spine. “You’re too late,” he says softly. “The Shadow Legion’s plans are already in motion. There’s nothing you can do to stop them now.”

“What plans?” Reef demands, stepping forward.

Marlowe’s smile widens. “The next celestial alignment. They’re going to unleash a wave of destruction so powerful, it will cripple Aerwyna for centuries. And you…you’ll be powerless to stop it.”

The revelation sends shockwaves through the council, the enormity of the threat sinking in. But amidst the chaos, my attention shifts to Malia. She’s pale, her hand resting protectively over her stomach as she processes Marlowe’s words.

“Malia,” I say softly, stepping toward her. “Are you o?—”

“I’m fine,” she says quickly, but her voice wavers.

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