Web of Betrayal

**Alec’s Perspective**
The wind howled through the stone corridors of Vespera’s castle, rattling the iron-banded windows and casting shadows that danced with the flickering torchlight. I sat alone in the war room, hunched over a large map sprawled across a heavy wooden table. Pins marked the positions of my forces and the lands still under my control, but my gaze remained fixed on one singular point: Isabella’s territory.

A slow smirk crossed my face as I imagined the poison taking effect. Soon, her rebellion would crumble without a single sword being drawn. The resistance would be leaderless, demoralized, and ripe for conquest. I closed my eyes, savoring the thought of Isabella broken, her defiance snuffed out. A sharp knock shattered my reverie.

“Enter,” I barked, my eyes snapping open as my smirk faded into a cold stare.

The door creaked open, revealing a wiry man dressed in dark leather. His pale face and tense movements betrayed his apprehension as he approached the table.

“Your Majesty,” the spy said, bowing deeply, but I could sense the fear lurking beneath the surface. “What news?”
“Has our little rebel princess met her end?”

The spy hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously around the room before meeting my cold gaze. He swallowed hard.

“There has been... an issue, Your Majesty,” the spy began, his voice wavering.
“The poison... it did not work.”

My fingers, which had been tracing the edge of the map, stilled. My gaze turned icy, and the room seemed to grow colder in an instant.

“Explain,” I growled, my voice dangerously low.

The spy took a deep breath, knowing my wrath was imminent.

“The maid you entrusted with the task was discovered,” he continued.
“Princess Isabella noticed something was wrong with the drink before she drank it.”
“She forced the maid to reveal the plan.”

Silence enveloped the room, suffocating and thick. My eyes darkened, my fury building like a storm on the horizon. Slowly, I stood, the legs of my chair scraping against the stone floor.



“What of the maid?”
“She has been imprisoned,” the spy stammered.
“Isabella knows you ordered the poisoning, but she has not acted—yet.”

My fist slammed onto the table, scattering the pins from the map and sending one of the candlesticks toppling over. The spy flinched but dared not move. I began to pace the room, my fury barely contained, my mind racing with the implications of this failure. Isabella’s survival meant more than just a failed assassination; it meant she knew how far I was willing to go. She would not sit idle.

“I underestimated her,” I muttered, clenching my fists.

I had assumed Isabella’s pregnancy would make her less cautious, more vulnerable. Instead, she was proving to be more resilient than I had expected.

“No matter, if she refuses to fall by subtlety, I will bring war to her doorstep.”

The spy shifted nervously.

“Your Majesty... she will be expecting that now.”

I shot him a withering glare, silencing any further protests.

“Then let her expect it.”
“Fear breeds mistakes.”
“When she finally realizes how hopeless her situation is, she will crumble.”

The spy dared to speak again.

“Shall I order another attempt on her life, Your Majesty?”

I paused, considering the option. I had other methods at my disposal, more direct, more brutal. If Isabella was as cautious as she seemed now, another assassination attempt might raise her guard too high. No, he needed something more decisive. More public.

“No,” I said slowly, a dark smile curling my lips.
“Let her live, for now.”
“We will strike her where it hurts most, her people.”

“I want her soldiers to feel fear, to doubt her,” I ordered.
“Send word to my generals.”
“Increase the pressure on every front.”
“No mercy.”

The spy nodded quickly, eager to leave the room.

“Send a message to James,” my voice dropped to a low growl.
“I want him to know that while his beloved clings to life, her kingdom is already falling apart.”
“Surround his camp but do not engage.”
“Let him see the noose tightening.”
“When you return to Isabella's castle, kill the maid.”

The spy bowed again, his face ashen as he backed out of the room, disappearing down the hall. I stood in silence for a moment, the crackling fire in the hearth the only sound breaking in the room. I walked slowly back to the map, adjusting the pins I had knocked loose. My eyes returned to Isabella’s position, dark thoughts swirling in my mind.

“She may have escaped death today,” I muttered to myself, “but it will come for her soon enough.”
“One way or another.”

With a final glance at the map, I turned toward the window, staring out into the darkened landscape. War was coming, and this time, I would ensure there were no second chances. No mercy. No survivors.


**Isabella’s Perspective**

I paced the corridor outside the dungeons. It had been three days since the failed poisoning, and I had decided to wait before interrogating the maid. My advisors urged me to act sooner, but I needed time to prepare, to let her stew in her fear and guilt. I wanted her to understand that whatever loyalty she had to Alec was futile.

Rowan stood nearby, his arms crossed, watching me with silent concern. Now, it was time to get answers. The maid’s confession had been cut short, and I needed to know exactly how deep Alec’s reach extended. I stopped pacing and nodded to Rowan.

“It is time.”

We moved swiftly through the narrow halls toward the dungeon. The air grew colder the deeper we went, the scent of damp stone mingling with stale air. The guards stationed outside the heavy iron door stood at attention, their expressions grim. I met their eyes briefly before gesturing for them to open the door.

The creaking hinges echoed down the dark corridor as the door swung open. Dim light from a single torch flickered inside the small, barren cell. I stepped into the room, my eyes adjusting to the gloom as I searched for the maid.

She lay slumped against the stone wall, her body unnaturally still. A wave of dread washed over me as I realized something was wrong. Her skin was pale, almost blue, her lips parted in a final, silent gasp. I hurried forward, dropping to my knees beside her, my fingers brushing her cold wrist. No pulse. I stared down at her, my mind racing. She was dead. Rowan stepped in behind me, his sharp intake of breath the only sound in the suffocating silence.

“Isabella…” he began, his voice low and wary.

I did npt respond at first, my gaze locked on the maid’s lifeless form. How did this happen? How had I allowed her to slip through my grasp? She had answers—answers I desperately needed—and now she was gone. My fingers clenched into fists as I rose slowly, my eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“This was not just fear,” I muttered.
“She did not take her own life.”

Rowan moved closer, examining the maid’s body.

“No.”
“This was something else.”

He crouched down, running his fingers gently over her neck.

“There’s a mark here.”
“Faint, but unmistakable.”

I followed his gaze, leaning in to see the thin, purplish bruise around her throat. It was subtle as if someone had strangled her with something soft, something meant to kill without leaving an obvious trace.

“Someone silenced her.”
“Alec’s reach is farther than we thought,” Rowan said grimly, standing and meeting my gaze.

My mind raced, trying to piece together how this could have happened. The dungeons were heavily guarded. No one could have slipped in unnoticed. Unless someone on the inside was working for Alec. There was a traitor among us. I turned sharply to one of the guards standing in the doorway.

“Who has been down here?”
“Who had access to this cell?”

The guard paled slightly under my gaze, but he quickly saluted.

“Only the jailers, Your Majesty.”
“No one else has been permitted near the prisoner.”
“Find the jailer responsible for this section,” I ordered, my voice cold as steel.
“I want to know who has been near her in the past three days.”
“No one leaves this castle until we have answers.”

The guard nodded and rushed out, his footsteps echoing down the stone hallway. I turned back to Rowan, my thoughts dark and swirling. Alec’s web was tangled, and intricate, and it had ensnared someone within my ranks. Rowan stepped closer, his expression hard.

“Isabella, we need to be careful.”
“If there is a spy in the castle, they have been watching us for some time.”

I clenched my fists, fury boiling just beneath the surface.

“I should have interrogated her sooner.”
“I let her sit too long, and now she is dead.”
“Whoever killed her knew exactly what they were doing.”

“We cannot let this stop us.”
“Alec will pay for what he has done, and we must prepare for the battle ahead.”
“We need to gather our forces and strike back before he has a chance to regroup.”
“We will show him that we are not easily defeated.”
“We will bring the fight to him, and when the time comes, we will ensure he knows exactly who he is up against.”

I turned and walked out of the cell, Rowan at my heels.