It was a new day and Minul felt stronger, if not better. Strong enough to do and say what needed to be done.

May the Triplet Goddess save me from the Downway for what I’m about to do, she prayed as she approached the meeting room.

She strode through empty halls of the palace, bright-torches lighting the way. The carpets and wall hangings changed gradually in colors and themes as she moved from the left wing to the right wing of the palace.

She steeled herself with a deep breath as she found herself in front of a door way too soon for her liking. She’d taken a roundabout route to get here, instead of the straight line hallway she could’ve taken. She’d tried to slow her step but years of walking with a busy and stately manner had combined with her anxiety to speed her steps along. She also didn’t like the idea of her personal guard realizing how bad she was dreading this meeting.

And now she found herself in front of the doors. Her hands shook lightly by her side as she examined the treated wood. They had a light stain on them, making the boards appear brighter to fit in with the rest of the hallways lighter color scheme. They were half a again as tall as her, more than big enough for any person to fit through and made of heavy and sturdy oak.

Minul briefly touched the gold diadem in her hair. It wasn’t a proper crown in the sense that most commoners knew it, or even what she’d known as a child, but it served its purpose well enough today. It was a symbol of Elusria and its royalty, even if it was touched by the ankirian’s blood as well.

Minul drew on it for strength as she forced her hands to calm and breaths to steady. She swallowed hard once before turning to the guards standing behind her. They were, as her personal guards, privy to some of her weaker moments. At first, she’d feared this, but in turn it made them all the more protective of her.

There was something to be said for the unshakable, untouchable Queen that stood above the scrambling and fights of mere mortals, but a Queen that sometimes faltered, one who wasn’t perfect, who wasn’t composed at all times of the day? She was relatable, they could understand her, feel for her. They glimpsed the weight of the crown and the protective instincts that had driven them so high in the hierarchy would only strengthen.

They were her shield, her protectors, and her most trusted.

And yet she still had to balance her behavior between vulnerable and weak.

“Open the door for me,” She commanded. She was Queen Minul II in full.

“Yes, your majesty,” Sæbbi, the guard to her right, bowed and pushed them open.

She strode through the doors with her head held high as Sæbbi closed it behind her, they knew to stand guard outside the meeting room and to not let anyone in without checking with her first.

Queen Minul strode past the three other inhabitants of the room as she made her way to the throne at the end of the table. And this was a throne and not just a slightly larger chair. This was no time to dissemble. She wasn’t here to relate to her audience or hear their suggestions.

These men and woman were picked specifically due to trust.

Minul stopped next to her throne, the ornate dark wood standing out from the otherwise lighter wooden chairs, and examined the members of this meeting. Ragnar, the Obsidian Hand, Pashar, who was slightly more than the Sword she’d originally reported as, and Saif, who was as enigmatic as he was powerful.

They were all early to the actual meeting that had been called, having arrived well before the other participants that were expected. Now as the Queen looked out across them, they seemed a dreadfully small group. She wasn’t even sure she should be inviting Ragnar into this meeting.

He was by every measure an extremely devout nationalist, despite what he sometimes said. Even from early reports decades before Minul was born, when he’d been scouted as an up and coming tethered in the field, had his devotion to the nation been noted.

“Thank you all for coming so early,” the Queen said as she sat in her throne. It had originally been made to fit her mother, and it had taken some serious rework from her carpenters to get it fitted to her much slimmer frame but she could now sit in it without seeming diminished in its shadow.

“You’re welcome, your majesty,” Ragnar said as he awkwardly got into his seat next to Pashar and opposite Saif, “but I’m honestly not sure what we’re doing here. Pashar didn’t say why we were coming here so early.”

Minul breathed in slowly through her nose, rubbing her thumb against the arm of the throne as she made herself speak slowly and forcefully, “We’re here to talk about traitors and how to deal with them.”

“Oh…” Ragnar said seeming slightly stunned as he leaned back in his chair.

“As the Queen says,” Saif continued, “There are two major factions of traitors. Those that support a leave-taking of the nobility, or even Elusria as a whole.”

“Kurri’s Eye,” Ragnar grumbled obviously knowing of them, “I didn’t know… I wish it hadn’t grown this bad.”

“I take it you have friends among them?” Saif asked sitting up a little straighter.

“That depends, what is your role in all this?”

Minul spoke before Saif could, “The Triplet Master is here as advisor and the master of spies.”

Ragnar’s eyes widened once more and Minul sensed him throwing a tower of power across the room trying to detect Saif, even as he drowned out the slight disturbance of Saif’s native presence.

“I sense nothing.”

“And you won’t with such a crude attempt,” Pashar said, “Now to get back on track, do you know members from Kurri’s Eye?”

Ragnar cleared his throat, glancing at Saif once more, “I wouldn’t call them friends, your majesty, but I would be remiss in my duties to not acknowledge them as associates.”

“Have they approached you to join them?” Saif asked slouching once more.

Ragnar snorted, “I hope to think they know better by now. My reputation isn’t a secret.”

“That much is true,” Saif sighed turning to glance at Minul. She nodded slightly for him to go on. “As of right now we have it on good authority that they’ve approached multiple tethered who have left the army, petitioning them to defect from Elusria, or in some cases seize the academy. In this list of tethered, there are only a few masters who we know have agreed, but they have gained enough second-stages that they could actually become a problem if we don’t taken care of them.”

“Taken care of?” Ragnar asked worry coloring his tone.

“We’ve reached the conclusion that we need to take decisive action to cut the ground out from these traitors’ feet,” Minul answered. She spoke in a tone she felt was as painfully loud as it was confident. She intellectually knew the noise wouldn’t escape from this meeting room, but it still felt brash and harsh to her ears.

“We’re killing them?” Ragnar whispered, “Another Night Rebellion?”

A fitting comparison, though, Minul hoped it wouldn’t become quite as famous as the overnight slaughter of a rebellion.

“That is just one faction,” Saif said, “The smaller one.”

Ragnar sighed leaning back and resting his cane across his legs. Minul knew he’d embedded obsidian into the wood. Likely, it contained a full stone core that he could rip out if necessary. The old man never went anywhere without some way to defend himself. The first thing he’d done to his office back at the academy was to tear down all the adornments and replace the walls with obsidian laced wood. It allowed him full control over his environment and protected him from all but the strongest tethered.

“The other faction,” Saif continued. “Is headed by Inaaya al-Bacchus and includes our very own master of education.”

“Leif? Are you sure?”

“We have enough evidence that we didn’t invite him to this part of the meeting,” Minul said. “While we can’t fully prove that he’s a traitor, we do know that we can’t trust him.”

“Damn,” Ragnar said before realizing he was cursing in front of his Queen, “Sorry,” the grizzled old man actually blushed a little as he turned his gaze away.

“With Leif, they will have the backing of the Serpent-Vein family and a sizable portion of Varumgándr. Not all of them, thankfully. There are enough loyalists to the crown that joined due to dislike for Kurri’s Eye, or nobles, that it will cause a schism in the faction. They will likely see even more fall off once people realize who else serves Inaaya. Inga Eikil has joined her side as well as the house of Sworden.”

“Sworden… That’s worrying,” Ragnar replied getting nods all around. Saif pushed a folder with the full list of traitors across the table towards Ragnar. “What about the boy, Dovar? I’d hate to lose a talent such as him.”

“We’re not sure, but his father has been in communication with Inaaya for some time,” Saif held up folder, “This is the closest we’ve come to a full list. Obviously, killing them all would leave a huge void in the power structure and we want to avoid that. Thankfully, most of them are just greedy cowards. We don’t have deal with all of them immediately, we just need to get a handle on the worst offenders. We can phase the rest out of positions of leadership at our own pace afterwards.”

Ragnar briefly skimmed through the pages, idly taking in names, “This is a lot of people.”

“Inaaya’s wanting to take over Elusria,” Minul said to Ragnar’s outraged gasp, “That’s why so many are bowing before her. They think she’s representing Ankiria.”

“But she’s not?”

Minul shook her head, “I’d already have abdicated or been abdicated by now if that was the case.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” Ragnar said after long moment of quiet. “I can maybe work out a way dealing with Inaaya and her people. They’re mostly normal soldiers with the exception of her ankirians, other than that I can see a few ways we could play this out.”

“That’s good,” Minul said relieved. Ragnar had been one of the longest standing generals in elusrian history and more than that, he’d been the Lord General of the elusrian front lines for nearly four decades. That he was already developing ways to handle the parts she was least certain of was a great comfort, “since that is what we need you for. The ankirians can’t get directly involved, since they aren’t actually ankirian forces, but representatives from the United Alliance. They’re supposed to serve as a political attack on our standing to justify Inaaya’s take over attempt. If everything goes well, we won’t have to worry about Zubair el-Harron at all.”

“And what about the Masters’ Council and Kurri’s Eye?” Ragnar swallowed uncomfortably. “I’ve known some of these people,” he fingers lingered on the folder, “since they were barely able to hold a weapon, even if they aren’t my friends.”

Minul looked at Saif, “I have a plan.”