the timid bride

# Chapter 55 – The Game of Thrones Begins

For the first time since her arrival at the palace, Zara sat at the high council table, not as a decoration, not as a quiet shadow beside Damon—but as a force.

And everyone knew it.

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Scrolls littered the table, filled with reports she had spent the night gathering—evidence of tax evasion in the west, stolen grain shipments in the north, and most damning of all, corruption in the palace kitchens where foreign coins were found hidden in flour sacks.

She kept her posture calm, hands folded neatly as the nobles argued around her. Damon hadn't said a word in over ten minutes, but his eyes remained on her, studying, calculating.

Lord Kael broke the silence. "With respect, Your Highness," he began, turning to Damon but clearly referring to her, "we've never permitted outsiders to interfere with court operations."

"I'm not an outsider," Zara said before Damon could speak. "I'm your prince's wife. And last I checked, this kingdom's people are also under my protection."

A few lords exchanged glances. Some with irritation. A few with reluctant respect.

Lord Ryle cleared his throat. "The information provided… is accurate. I verified three of the charges myself."

"And if that's true," Zara added, "then someone in this room is protecting the thieves."

Eyes shifted nervously.

Damon finally leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "What do you propose, wife?"

Her heart pounded in her chest. This was the moment she'd been preparing for.

"I propose a public audit of the outer regions," she said, locking eyes with each noble in turn. "Every transaction, every warehouse, every coin. Let the people see that their leaders answer to the crown—not the other way around."

Lord Kael chuckled. "That would spark panic."

"It will spark accountability," Zara replied. "Unless you're afraid of what might be found?"

Kael's smile faded.

Damon's lips curled. He was clearly enjoying this.

He stood slowly, towering over the table. "Then it's settled. Lady Zara will lead the audit committee, with full access to records and freedom to travel as needed."

Gasps rippled through the chamber.

"You're giving her power over the nobles?" one barked. "She's barely—"

"She's my wife," Damon said coldly. "And her eyes are sharper than most of yours combined."

Zara exhaled quietly. Victory. Small, but real.

The meeting adjourned with barely-contained murmurs. As the council members dispersed, Lord Kael lingered behind.

He approached Zara with slow, deliberate steps.

"I underestimated you," he said quietly.

Zara turned, her voice icy. "That was your first mistake."

"And your last may be trusting the wrong man," Kael replied, glancing toward Damon.

Before she could respond, Damon appeared at her side.

"Is there a problem, Lord Kael?" he asked, voice dark.

"No, Your Highness. Merely congratulating your wife on her… new position." He bowed and exited.

Zara didn't relax until the doors closed behind him.

—

Later that day, Damon found her in the library, surrounded by stacks of parchment and books. She was already sorting through regional maps and merchant ledgers.

"You're actually taking this seriously," he said, stepping inside.

"Of course I am," she said without looking up. "You said I had sharp eyes. I intend to prove it."

He moved closer, watching her work. "You've changed."

"I'm not sure I ever had the chance to be who I really am until now."

Damon sat beside her, uncharacteristically quiet. After a pause, he said, "The court doesn't trust easily. You've painted a target on your back."

"I know," she said. "That's why I need something from you."

He raised a brow. "And what's that?"

"Your promise. That when the knives come out—and they will—you won't be the one holding one."

He was silent.

Then, "I don't make promises I can't keep."

"That's not a no."

"It's not a yes, either."

Their eyes locked. A long, heavy silence.

Then he stood. "Be careful, Zara. Some of these nobles would rather burn the kingdom than be ruled by a woman with a backbone."

She watched him leave, her jaw set. She knew he was right.

That night, she wrote a letter by candlelight. Sealing it with the royal crest, she called for her most trusted guard.

"Take this to Lord Edric in the East," she whispered. "He owes me a favor. Tell him I need loyal eyes in the north and a record of every shipment in and out of the capital."

The guard nodded and slipped away.

Zara stared at the flickering flame and whispered to herself, "If they want a queen… they'll get one."

—

Meanwhile, in a dim chamber beneath the palace, Lord Kael met with three other nobles.

"She's dangerous," one muttered.

"She's clever," said another. "Too clever for a merchant's daughter."

Kael sat at the head of the table. "We made a mistake. We underestimated her. But we won't again."

"What do you propose?"

Kael's eyes gleamed. "We turn the people against her. Paint her as a meddler. Someone abusing the prince's power for personal revenge. The merchants won't trust her. The peasants already fear her. We only need to tip the scale."

"And Damon?"

Kael smirked. "He won't protect her forever. Not when the kingdom begins to turn."

—

The next morning, news spread like wildfire.

Posters began appearing across the city—illustrations of Zara standing over kneeling peasants, false quotes beneath her name suggesting she planned to raise taxes and replace noble officials with merchants.

Damon summoned her immediately.

"Have you seen what they're printing?" he asked, slamming a poster on the table.

"I have," she said, eyes calm.

"They're accusing you of treason, of trying to take over the crown."

"I know."

He stared at her. "You don't look surprised."

"I'm not. Kael warned me this would happen."

Damon's jaw tightened. "Do you want me to shut it down?"

"No," she said.

"No?" he repeated.

"I want to answer it."

"How?"

"Give me a voice. A platform. Let me speak to the people—publicly."

Damon blinked. "You want to give a royal address?"

"Yes. From the balcony. As your wife. As their future queen."

He paused. "If you fail—"

"I won't."

—

The next evening, the city square overflowed with people. Guards lined the edges of the crowd, unsure whether to expect cheers or stones.

Zara stepped onto the royal balcony, wearing the royal blue dress Damon had gifted her during their wedding feast. Her hair was braided back, her chin high.

Gasps echoed from the crowd below. She was not timid. She was not soft.

She was steel in silk.

"I am not here to take your crown," she said, voice clear and unwavering. "I am here to serve the kingdom. Your kingdom."

She held up one of the posters. "This is a lie. But even lies reveal something important: that fear lives among us. Fear of change. Fear of truth."

She paused.

"I was not born noble. I was not raised in silk beds or marble halls. I know what it means to struggle. To earn. To lose."

Her voice hardened. "And I will not stand by while those who have always held power use fear to blind you. We will audit this kingdom. We will root out corruption. Not to punish the powerful—but to protect the people."

The crowd was silent.

Then, a single cheer.

Then another.

And soon, a roar.

Damon watched from the shadows behind the balcony, his expression unreadable.

When she returned inside, he didn't speak at first. Then, with a slow nod, he said, "They love you."

"They believe me," she corrected softly.

"You've just made yourself the most powerful woman in this palace."

"No," she said. "Not yet. But I'm close."

And for the first time since their wedding, Damon truly smiled.

Not the cold smirk of a ruler.

But a smile of a man who realized his queen might be more dangerous than all his enemies combined.