Dark Moon Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 527. Tricks III

Fourth Arc (Thorns of The Black Throne) - 527. Tricks III

They thought memory loss made her available.

For years she had survived by vanishing from the board. Now that she had returned, everyone wanted to decide what shape she should take.

Her fingers tightened around her teacup.

Rose saw that tiny grip.

Angel did too.

Neither moved yet.

Because Jane needed this. Not the manipulation. But the chance to stand inside it and remain herself.

A nobleman approached next, middle-aged, with a pleasant smile and predatory patience.

“Lady Jane,” he said gently, “my wife and I would be honored if you visited our estate sometime. Quiet countryside may soothe your mind.”

Another hook.

Remove her from the castle.

Or from Angel and Rose.

Jane gave him a soft smile. “That sounds kind.”

His eyes brightened.

“But I’m afraid I cannot go anywhere without King Angelus’s permission,” Jane added, lowering her lashes. “And I am still… recovering.”

The man bowed. “Of course. When the time is right.”

“When the time is right,” Jane repeated softly.

Angel’s mouth barely moved. Good move.

She had neither accepted nor refused.

Rose stepped toward Jane then, slowly enough to seem natural. She placed herself beside the girl with a gentle smile toward the surrounding ladies. “How kind of everyone to welcome her.”

The women straightened.

Queen Rose’s presence changed the temperature immediately.

One lady laughed lightly. “We only wish to help her feel at home again.”

Rose’s smile remained warm. “That is generous. Though I’m sure too many new old friends at once may overwhelm her.”

New old friends.

Several women understood the insult.

A few pretended not to.

Jane lowered her gaze to hide the slight curve of her lips.

Seraphine watched from beneath her tree, her expression smooth.

Rose had intervened quickly.

Angel remained a few steps away, speaking briefly with an older duke who had wisely chosen trade instead of flirtation. But his attention never fully left Rose and Jane.

That, too, was a problem.

They were difficult apart.

Worse together.

Still, Seraphine had learned something valuable.

The nobles were opportunistic.

Useful, if guided.

They had already shifted targets without needing instruction. They sensed where access might exist and moved toward it. If trained properly, they could swarm Jane with kindness, stories, invitations, and pity until she began doubting even her own silence.

And Roric…

Seraphine’s gaze sharpened faintly.

Where was Roric in all this?

Absent by Darius’ order.

But absence did not equal control.

She would need to check him again soon. Perhaps increase the tonic or adjust the approach.

No, not too quickly. He had looked slightly different this morning. Clearer. That worried her more than open rebellion would have.

Across the tea court, Angel turned his head.

Their eyes met.

Seraphine smiled.

Angel gave nothing back.

No anger. No coldness even.

Just calm.

It irritated her more than hatred.

Because hatred could be pulled.

Calm had to be broken.

The music shifted into a softer tune. Afternoon sunlight lowered slightly, bathing the tea court in honey-colored warmth. Servants refilled cups. Nobles resumed laughter. Gifts changed hands. Compliments multiplied.

On the surface, the gathering recovered completely.

But beneath it, every faction had adjusted. The men had learned Rose could not be trapped easily. The women had learned Angel could not be tempted. The ambitious had learned Jane might be the easier road.

Seraphine had learned the couple’s bond was not ornamental.

Jane had learned that being underestimated was still the safest mask she owned. She looked down into her tea, watching the pale liquid tremble faintly in the cup.

Then she smiled. Soft. Lost.

Let them think she was blank parchment.

For now.

The ink was already hers.