Chapter 18 - The Compromise

The war room had become the Queen's domain by necessity.

Maps covered every surface - territorial divisions from the civil war, supply routes, troop placements. Reports stacked in Lysippe's careful organization. Wine cups, half-empty, scattered among the papers. The lamp oil was running low, but no one had thought to refill it.

Twelve hours since the Minotaur had collapsed in the hallway.

Ten hours since Lieutenant Theron's body had been cleared away.

Fiteen years of holding everything together through sheer force of will.

Queen Pasiphaë stood at the window, watching dawn break over a palace that was still technically at war with itself. Asterion's bronze soldiers held the outer walls. The royal guard maintained their purple corridor. And somewhere between them, exhausted men who'd been killing each other over grain shipments were now just... waiting.

For someone to tell them what happened next.