Page 19 of Crowned In Venom

And they know when something is wrong.

It happens subtly at first, a shift in the way they speak.

A twitch of the eyes when a certain guard passes.

A hesitation before answering a question too quickly.

I am patient.

I wait.

And then, one of them makes a mistake.

The girl—Mira, a quiet thing with clever hands and a sharp tongue when no one is listening—is setting a tray before me in the dim light of the servants’ hall when I see it.

Her hands shake.

Barely.

But enough.

Enough that when she places the cup of tea before me, a single drop spills over the rim.

I watch her. I say nothing.

She does not meet my eyes.

“Mira.” My voice is soft, but she flinches anyway.

She turns, keeping her gaze low. “Yes, my lady?”

My lady.

Not slave.

Not the way they address the others.

I pick up the cup, swirling the dark liquid. “Who is watching me?”

Mira stiffens.

For a long moment, she says nothing. The flickering candlelight between us casts shadows on her face—shadows that hide fear, hesitation, and something deeper.

Loyalty.

Not to Varkos. Not to any of the men who wield whips and chains.

To me.

I set the cup down without drinking. “Tell me.”

She exhales, a shaky thing. Then, she whispers, so softly I barely catch it.

“There is someone in the palace who should not be.”

My pulse steadies. “A spy.”

Mira nods once. “No one sees them. No one hears them. But we know. They leave no trace, but we feel them.”

---