The stained glass of Crescent Keep bathed the halls in the color of blood.
Isabella followed Lady Elena past Flanders tapestries and torches carved with the lion sigil of Burgundy—a declaration of war masked as décor.
"You must try this." Elena offered a goblet encrusted with rubies. "Bordeaux vintage, with a hint of Venetian spice."
Isabella studied the powder clinging to the rim.
When Lily, Elena's maid, gave the subtlest of winks, Isabella gasped and knocked the goblet aside.
Wine pooled across the Turkish carpet, eating holes into the fabric like acid.
"What a pity." Elena brushed a golden edge of the table. A hidden compartment snapped open, and three daggers clattered onto the floor.
"Perhaps the Queen prefers English ale?"
Footsteps echoed outside—soldiers approaching.
Isabella drew a dining blade from her garter and pressed it to Elena's throat.
"Call them off. Or the next hymn they sing will be for your funeral."
Lily whipped back a tapestry, revealing a narrow passage.
As Isabella backed into the dark corridor with Elena as her hostage, the lady laughed.
"You think Richard de Clare will save you? He's at Dover, chasing French spies."
The stone door slammed shut.
A flash of steel—Elena's sleeve dagger.
But Isabella was faster. Her blade arced across the woman's throat, a thin red line blooming across white flesh—exactly as it had in the visions at the abbey.
Volume I: Chapter Ten – The Gryphon's Judgment
When King Alfred II stormed Crescent Keep with his knights, Elena collapsed at his feet. Blood stained the Gryphon ring on his hand.
"She tried to kill me!"
Isabella tossed the bloodied knife away.
"I demand a Knight's Trial."
The hall fell silent. Under the Chivalric Code, nobles were entitled to duel in defense of honor.
Alfred narrowed his eyes, the silver mask's strap cutting deeper into his burned cheek.
"Your reason?"
"Your lady laced my wine with poison," Isabella said, pointing to the eaten-away carpet. "And confessed to murdering both former queens."
Lily stepped forward.
"I swear by the Virgin!" she cried. "I heard her say: 'Beneath the irises lie enough foolish women to fill a chapel.'"
Elena's scream was drowned out by a blaring horn.
Richard de Clare burst through the doors, bloodstained and battle-worn.
"Sire! A French cipher intercepted at Dover!"
He handed over a scroll bearing the crest of House Valois.
Alfred broke the seal just as Elena lunged for the hearth to destroy it.
His blade met her neck mid-flight.
"Your father traded three cities to make you my mistress," he said coldly. "Now he trades my life for Flanders?"
Isabella stood frozen as Lily unfastened her collar.
Across the maid's scarred chest was a brand—the Templar Cross.
"I served the last Queen," she said. "I saw Elena drip iris poison into His Majesty's wine."