Borealis Elite’s Scandals Threaten
Country Stability
By Stellan Navis
INa startling new development amidst the chaos unfolding in Corona, former Councilman Evander Bishop was seen grave-robbing at Tsilah Cemetery. The once-respected Bishop family, along with the influential Evans family, has recently been expelled from the Corona Council due to their connections with Eos, a notorious Epsilon supremacist organization. This past autumn, Eos’ leader, the enigmatic “Magician,” was revealed to be none other than Queen Jorina’s son, Don Raelyn, who now faces life behind bars for the murders of Prince Gwyn Raelyn and Prince Fynn Raelyn.
As the royal family grapples with this tragedy, Queen Leigh is reshuffling her cabinet, sending tremors throughout the nation. The War Letters—a series of explosive documents—have exposed the Epsilon class as the true instigators of the First War, overturning centuries of belief that the war was instigated by the Nebula. This revelation has rendered the Labor Laws—which have unfairly oppressed the Nebula people since the First War—obsolete, and yet, they have not been officially repealed. Tensions are boilingover as Nebula individuals across the country stage mass protests, demanding fair wages and equal treatment from their Epsilon employers. The queen’s appointment of three Nebula councilors is a significant step toward equality. However, many question whether this represents a steadfast commitment to change or merely a symbolic gesture.
As Corona holds its breath, all eyes turn to President Janus Dyer and her upcoming audience with Queen Leigh. The revelation that the queen poisoned Janus at the Daughters of the Witches You Could Not Burn (DWYCNB) gala, hosted at former President Elio di Siena’s manor, has cast a pall over their meeting. The nation wonders whether these two formidable leaders can set aside their differences to work together to steer Corona through these turbulent times or if their animosity will deepen the nation’s vast divides. Thanks to my well-placed source within the Council, I will continue to uncover the secrets of the Borealis Elite in the coming weeks. The truth—no matter how unsettling—will be brought to light. Stay tuned as the drama unfolds and the government’s true motives are revealed . . .
President Janus Dyer smiles,sharp and calculated, and I know I am in trouble.
“Your Majesty,” she purrs, her voice as smooth as silk. She leans in to kiss my cheeks, her oleander perfume intoxicatingly sweet. “I look forward to hearing your proposals.”
I suppress the shiver threatening to race down my spine as I return her smile, my lips twisting with their own thorns.
It is evident in her tense shoulders and guarded caramel eyes that Janus is wary of me, and for good reason. I am the reason she spent several agonizing days at Hebe Hospital in October, her veins burning with the white-hot agony of daemon venom. In a misguided attempt to save my country from war last autumn, I made a deal with the Magician—the leader of Eos—to raise a daemon and harvest its venom in exchange for the War Letters, which I thought contained harmful information regarding my family. I had no idea the Magician, a.k.a. Uncle Don, planned to use the venom on Janus. I didn’t intend for her to get hurt. A fact I had explained extensively during my tell-all with theImperial Inquirerbefore my coronation. It doesn’t appear she accepted my public apology, but hopefully, when she hears my proposals today, she’ll realize I’ve only ever put my country first, and I intend to continue doing so.
“Please take a seat. I’ve ordered tea,” I say steadily, despite the butterflies in my stomach. I settle into the plush armchair next to my grandmother, holding the thick envelope containing the proposal plans I’ve been working on for weeks. These proposals aim to make our country more equitable. They will address the wrongs of my ancestors, who created the Labor Laws that unjustly punished the Nebula and forced the vampires underground. Additionally, these changes will ensure a safer environment for Lunar Witches by closing the asylums.
I was crowned three weeks ago, and since then, the ethereal spirits of my ancestor Aradia and my father have been guiding me for this pivotal first meeting with Janus. From this point onward, I will meet with Janus weekly to discuss kingdom affairs and any changes I wish to propose for our governing policies before presenting them to the Council for a vote. I intend to continue attending these meetings with Janus and presenting a united front.
The door swings open, and a palace attendant carries a rattling silver tea tray. She sets it before me with a soft clink, quickly preparing my tea just as I like it—with one lump of sugar and no cream—before tending to my grandmother’s.
The room is heavy with tension and the overpowering scent of our perfumes. Ornate furniture and luxurious draperies envelop us, reminding me of the wealth and power I embody and the past wrongs I must correct.
“Let’s begin with the vampires, shall we?” I say. “Doctor Chiara Dunn has requested financial support from the Council to research a cure for vampirism. I want to invest in her research, but I want to make sure you do as well.”
Janus’s eyes search mine. “Done,” she says. I press my lips together to suppress a triumphant smile until she adds, “On one condition. We’ve only begun mending relations with Queen Vyvyan’s court. The reaction to a cure is unknown and,therefore, a risk I’d rather not take unless we’re sure that Doctor Dunn’s research is successful.”
I reflect on Janus’s request. I had promised myself that during my reign, I would no longer keep secrets from my subjects, including the vampires, but I see a risk in raising people’s hopes if we fail to deliver.
“Fine, but since Queen Vyvyan and Prince Vane will attend the Council meeting tomorrow, it may be difficult to keep the hunt for the cure a secret.”
Janus nods. “It’s easily handled. We’ll use approved funds and reallocate them for Doctor Dunn’s research, so it doesn’t need to be mentioned again.”
“Smart thinking, Madam President,” my grandmother says, making Janus beam with smug satisfaction. Her rich brown skin glows in the soft, watery sunlight that peeks through the heavy gray clouds for the first time in days. February in Borealis is always dreary, and this winter is no exception. We’ve experienced record snowfall, but nothing like what they’ve faced in Glaucus. The roads there have iced over more than once, and the Solar Witches have had to work overtime to keep the treacherous northern streets safe.
“Leigh,” my grandmother says, turning her attention to me. “Doesn’t that sound reasonable?”
“Oh, yes, very reasonable,” I say through gritted teeth. I hate that it feels like we are betraying the fragile trust of the vampires, though I understand both sides.
“Good, what else?” Janus prompts.
I clear my throat. “I propose we close all Lunar Witch asylums immediately and transform them into reentry facilities.”
Janus stares at me. We need to change society’s perception of Lunar Witches. We are not dangerous; Aradia told us this much when I summoned her before the crowd at the capitol.We are historians—vessels who pass down knowledge from our ancestors, not heathens. Lunar Witches are not born evil but are made evil, so we must help them after centuries of abuse.
“Lunar Witches deserve freedom, but we must assist them in their transition. The reentry facilities will offer medical care and safe housing, but?—”
“No,” Janus says.
I blink, stunned. “I beg your pardon?”
“I understand this is deeply personal for you, Leigh, but that’s just it—it’s personal.”
I cross my arms, heat simmering beneath my skin. Of course, it is personal. I condemned Lunar Witches, buying into the stigma against them even after I Emerged as one of them. Rewriting the narrative is important to me. I was part of the problem.
