The throne room of Oakhart was built to inspire awe—and fear. Its vaulted ceiling arched like a cathedral, banners of ancient victories rippling faintly in the draft. Torches burned in golden sconces along marble walls, but the firelight did little to soften the tension coiled in the air.
On the high dais sat King Aldric, jeweled crown catching the flicker of flames, his expression carved into cold majesty. Around him clustered courtiers, guards, and advisors—an eager audience awaiting judgment.
Before the dais, General Lyra stood unbowed. Her sword, still sheathed, seemed to hum with restrained fury—as though it sensed the storm building inside her. Selene hovered just behind her shoulder, pale but resolute, while Rory clutched Elise's hand, eyes darting nervously across the watching nobles. Lieutenant Shawn stood at Lyra's right flank, silent and immovable as a shadow.
"You are making some very bold assumptions here, General," King Aldric boomed, his voice filling the grand hall and silencing every single person present. "To stand so openly in defense of this girl while the kingdom is demanding answers? Have you not considered the enormous potential we could unlock if we were to harness the full power of her blood? Do you honestly expect me to simply sit idly by and watch as this valuable opportunity slips away?" His tone escalated, growing hardened and accusing. "Your refusal to act on this matter borders on treason."
Lyra's jaw locked.
"With respect, my King, Selene is no specimen to be studied. She is under my protection. Always."
A sharp gasp rippled through the court.
Princess Kylie—radiant in crimson and gold—did not bother to hide her pleasure. At last, Lyra's defiance stood exposed, bare and damning. She spoke sweetly, but loud enough that every ear caught the poison.
"Perhaps it is not loyalty that binds the General. Perhaps it is… affection. For a girl whose very presence endangers Oakhart."
Selene flushed and lowered her gaze.
Lyra's shoulders tightened, fury sparking beneath her calm. But before she could answer, another voice cut through the tension.
"Enough, Kylie."
Princess Rayah stepped forward from the King's side—dignified, controlled, every inch the heir Oakhart expected. Her gaze lingered on Lyra, steady, unflinching, almost protective.
"General Lyra has served this kingdom even when we were children. I trust her judgment more than whispers and envy."
Kylie's smile withered to be opposed by her sister.
But King Aldric remained unmoved.
"Loyalty to the crown comes before all else. If you defy me now, General"—his voice dropped into iron—"you make yourself my enemy."
A breathless silence swallowed the room. Lyra knew the cost. And she knew she could never bow.
Her voice rang clear.
"Then so be it."
Chaos erupted.
Nobles shouted traitor. Guards surged forward, steel drawn. The first soldier lunged—
Lyra's blade met his with a thunderous ring.
Shawn drew beside her, answering treason with unwavering loyalty. Elise hauled Rory backward, shielding him—but the boy's eyes burned with something fiercer than fear.
Rory slipped free, hands moving on instinct. He drew his leather sling, loaded a stone, snapped his arm forward—
Crack.
A soldier reeled back, visor splitting with blood.
Another stone. Another shout. A gap opened in the advancing ranks.
Through the chaos, Shawn barked, "Nice, kid."
Rory grinned, breathless.
"Told you I wasn't helpless."
But King Aldric roared:
"Seize them!"
Captain Rita—Lyra's own captain—met her blade to blade.
Steel clashed, sparks skating across polished marble. Rita's face was stone—without hatred, without hesitation—only a soldier obeying the sovereign she had sworn to.
Lyra ground the words through her teeth.
"Rita—don't do this."
Rita shoved forward, steel grinding.
"My duty is to the throne. Even against you."
Behind her came Ava, trembling as she lifted her sword. She hesitated just long enough to meet Lyra's eyes.
Her voice cracked.
"I'm sorry, General."
Lyra stilled—not in fear, but in heartbreak.
Ava raised her weapon anyway.
Shawn intercepted her, stepping between them. Their blades struck with a hollow clang that echoed grief more than fury.
Ava flinched at every hit.
"Just stop resisting. If you surrender, the King will spare you—"
Shawn snarled,
"You don't know that."
Lyra shoved Rita back, fury igniting.
"I trained you both for loyalty—not blind obedience!"
Rita did not waver.
"And you taught us loyalty to Oakhart—not to you."
Those words cut deeper than steel.
With a final, explosive surge, Lyra drove Rita off-balance and forced the soldiers back.
"Do not let them escape!"
Dozens of soldiers charged. Lyra carved through them, her sword flashing silver. Rory stayed tight to Elise, sending stones at any who pressed too close. Shawn now holding his shield fought like a wall of iron, never letting a blade near Selene.
At last, Lyra slammed the heavy doors open.
Cold night air flooded in—sharp with rain and freedom.
They quickly spilled into the streets of Oakhart, pursuit echoing behind them.
For the first time in her life, Lyra was no longer a celebrated general.
She was an outlaw.
Inside the throne room, the battle ended—but politics remained.
Princess Kylie watched the doors slam shut. Her hands folded demurely before her gown, her face serene as still water. But triumph gleamed in her eyes.
Lyra was supposed to choose her. Kylie had waited—devoted, patient, certain that loyalty earned love.
And yet this pale stranger had stolen what Kylie deserved.
Let the beloved General fall, she thought. If she cannot be mine, then let no one have her. Let the kingdom see her as reckless, compromised, weak.
You chose her over me—then I'll bury you both, Kylie vowed.
If the kingdom needed a monster, Kylie would gladly give them one—so long as Lyra learned who truly owned her ruin.
Let her drown in silence and treason.
Across the chamber, Princess Rayah stood frozen. Her breath trembled; her hands had curled into fists at her sides. Every instinct screamed to run after Lyra—after the girl who sparred with her in palace courtyards, who stood guard at her sickbed, who save and bled on soil for the crown.
But Aldric's words chained her.
Loyalty to crown comes before all else.
Rayah could not defy him—not here, not as heir, not in a court already questioning her restraint. To act now meant joining Lyra in treason. It meant losing everything.
So she stayed.
Helpless.
Paralyzed.
Forced to watch her friend vanish into darkness.
Forgive me, she begged in silence.
Just survive. I will find a way to bring you home.
But one glance at Kylie's serpentine smirk revealed the truth—
the road home would not merely be blocked.
It would be sabotaged.