Rebirth of the Phantom Empress

**Chapter 11 – The Third Step Toward Victory**

The night was thick with the rich aroma of rain-soaked earth as Selene moved stealthily through the quiet, opulent halls of Lady Mirva's estate. The faint echoes of her footsteps barely disturbed the heavy silence that cloaked the manor. Each step was a calculated manoeuvre, each breath a measured intake of the cool, musty air that reeked of power and deceit. Selene had ignited a smouldering change, subtly eroding Mirva's once-iron grasp on her domain, but this was merely the beginning. The second step had weakened Mirva's control, but true victory demanded more than mere whispers and small disruptions.

Tonight, she would initiate the third step.

**Unseen Alliances**

Selene had mastered the art of observation, learning to blend into the shadows as she dissected the dynamics of the household. She could identify which servants harboured deep-seated resentment toward their mistress and which were paralyzed by fear. However, there was one aspect even the cunning Mirva had underestimated—the insatiable greed of those closest to power.

She found Riven lingering near the kitchen, his thin, wiry frame hunched protectively over a crate of supplies. His pallid hands trembled as he meticulously counted a handful of tarnished coins, glancing around nervously as if the very walls might betray him. Selene didn't need to announce herself; the tension in the air told her he sensed her presence before she could even speak.

"You're getting braver," she murmured, the corners of her mouth twisting into a knowing smirk.

Riven flinched but remained facing the crate. "What do you want?" His voice was a strained whisper, edged with anxiety.

Selene leaned casually against the rough stone wall, her arms folded across her chest with a confidence she didn't quite feel. "You handle the household's purchases—the ledger, the transactions, the inventories; Mirva trusts you implicitly."

His lips pressed into a thin, anxious line as he considered her words. "And?"

"And trust can be a dangerous ally when placed in the wrong hands."

A heavy silence enveloped them, the air thick with unspoken understanding and the weight of uncharted risks.

Riven let out a slow, shaky breath, his eyes darting to the dimly lit hallway beyond. "She watches everything. If I get caught—"

"You won't," Selene asserted, her voice smooth like silk yet tempered with an edge of conviction. "All I need is for her to believe that things are slipping through the cracks. There are a few discrepancies here and a few miscalculations there. Nothing overt, nothing that points directly to you. Just enough to pry her fingers from her tightly held reign."

Riven hesitated, his brow furrowing in doubt. "You want to make her paranoid."

"Not just that," Selene said, her tone turning almost persuasive. "I intend to make her desperate."

Riven's fingers curled into white-knuckled fists, the fear in his eyes mingled with a flicker of ambition. She knew there was something within him she could exploit.

After a long moment of internal struggle, he exhaled sharply and nodded, resolve etched across his features. "Fine. But if this goes wrong—"

"It won't," Selene promised, her gaze steady and unwavering. "Because we'll ensure it doesn't."

**Cracks in the Walls**

As the days turned into a week, the effects of their quiet machinations began to manifest in unmistakable ways.

Mirva's temperament grew volatile, her commands sharper than the finest dagger. Servants discreetly whispered about her increasing sleepless nights, about the way she prowled the dimly lit halls like a wounded beast. She began to double-check the accounts herself, summoned merchants at ungodly hours, and accused her own staff of incompetence with a venomous bite.

It started as a subtle unravelling of her once unwavering certainty, but Selene observed the threads fraying, each tug echoing a promise of impending chaos.

The moment of vulnerability she had been meticulously awaiting was finally at hand.

One evening, as Selene passed the ornate main hall, she caught sight of Mirva pacing before the grand window, her silhouette sharply defined against the flickering golden torchlight. A messenger stood before her, bowing low in an attempt to conceal his own trepidation.

"My lady, the figures do not match. The grain shipments were accounted for, but—"

"Then account for them again!" Mirva snapped, her voice dripping with authority. "I will not tolerate mistakes in my household!"

A triumphant smile crept across Selene's face.

Desperation was dawning upon Mirva.

**A Shadow in the Market**

The marketplace felt palpably changed. The vibrant stalls remained as colourful as ever, and the intoxicating scents of roasted chestnuts and fresh bread still filled the air, yet Selene no longer felt like an outsider, relegated to the sidelines of a world beyond her reach.

She had forged her own place within this complex game, and each calculated step brought her closer to the elusive freedom she craved.

As she manoeuvred through the bustling crowd, her senses remained heightened, ever-alert. The city was populated with curious eyes—some warm and inclusive, others cold and predatory. Yet, some lingered with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

It was not the first time she had felt it—that piercing, unyielding gaze.

She didn't dare to turn around, already knowing who would be waiting.

The man from before.

He seemed to warp the very fabric of the marketplace, as the crowd instinctively parted for his presence. Donned in a tailored black coat that hugged his form with effortless elegance, his movements were precise, his posture betraying nothing of his motives.

He had been watching her.

Selene chose to ignore him, not allowing her composure to falter. Instead, she continued her errand, her pulse steady and her mind racing with calculations.

Who was he? she wondered, a knot twisting in her stomach.

**The Third Step Complete**

By the time Selene returned to the estate, night had cloaked the world in darkness, and the weight of her plan settled firmly into place.

Mirva was beginning to crack.

The carefully structured household was shifting beneath her, and Selene suddenly felt the exhilarating rush of empowerment.

She was no longer a prisoner within her own story.

No, she had become a player.

And soon, she would wield the reins of control herself.