‎📖 Bound by Fate, Tied by Love
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‎🌹 Chapter 26: Shadows Within the Walls
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‎The great gates of House Valemont closed with a groan of iron and wood, the sound echoing through the smoke-thick air like the toll of a funeral bell. The serpent faction's forces withdrew to the hills, their banners vanishing into the morning mist, leaving behind silence broken only by the cries of the wounded.
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‎The courtyard reeked of blood and soot. Soldiers slumped against walls, some weeping quietly, others clutching their wounds. The chapel overflowed with the injured, healers working tirelessly, their white robes stained crimson.
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‎Isabella moved among them, skirts darkened, her hands raw from binding wounds. She did not stop, did not falter. Each life saved was a spark pulled from the jaws of despair. Yet every time her eyes lifted, they sought only one man.
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‎Adrian stood near the center of the courtyard, helm tucked beneath his arm, armor battered and bloodied. He barked orders in a voice hoarse with fatigue, directing guards to reinforce the gates, sending scouts to watch the serpent's movements. Though his back was straight, Isabella saw the weight pressing on him—the loss of men, the near-breach, the serpent's cunning.
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‎Finally, when his commands slowed and his men dispersed to their tasks, Isabella approached.
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‎"You need rest," she said softly.
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‎Adrian turned, his storm-gray eyes tired but sharp. "Rest will not mend broken gates or refill emptied quivers."
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‎She touched his arm, the steel cold beneath her fingers. "And yet, if you collapse, who will they follow?"
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‎For a moment, his gaze softened, though the tension in his jaw remained. He glanced past her, to the rows of soldiers carried in on makeshift stretchers. "Too many dead. Too many wounded. Chloe has struck us once and will strike again, harder. And she knows my tactics as if she sat at the table with me."
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‎Isabella's chest tightened. "Then she must have eyes here, within these walls."
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‎Adrian's expression darkened, confirming her fear. "A traitor. Perhaps more than one."
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‎The words chilled her more than the morning air. Steel on the battlefield was one thing—but betrayal within their home? That could shatter them before the serpent's next charge.
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‎The council of captains gathered by midday, their faces grim. Maps sprawled across the war table, marked with red ink, notes scrawled in haste. Lord Harrington leaned heavily on his cane, his usual sharpness edged with fury.
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‎"They knew our movements before we made them," Harrington growled. "The serpent baited us into overextending, then crushed us with their hidden reinforcements. Someone fed them our plans."
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‎A murmur rippled through the chamber.
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‎Adrian stood at the head of the table, helm set aside, hands braced against the wood. "Until the serpent's spy is rooted out, we cannot assume any strategy is safe. We will alter plans at the last moment. Captains, you will receive your orders only hours before battle."
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‎One of the younger commanders, Captain Dorne, frowned. "And if the traitor sits among us now?"
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‎The chamber stiffened.
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‎Adrian's gaze swept across the men, hard as steel. "Then he should know this: betrayal will not save him. I will tear down every stone of this estate if I must, to drag him into the light."
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‎The silence that followed was heavy, brittle. No one dared speak.
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‎Isabella, standing at Adrian's side, let her voice break it. "Fear serves Chloe's purpose. She wants suspicion to divide us, to make us doubt one another. We cannot let her win that battle within these walls."
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‎Harrington's sharp eyes studied her, then he nodded once. "The lady is right. We will hunt for the serpent's shadow, but until then, we must hold steady."
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‎The council broke in uneasy silence, leaving Adrian and Isabella alone by the table.
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‎Adrian exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping for the first time. "They look to me for strength. And yet all I see is the shadow of defeat, waiting to swallow us."
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‎Isabella reached for his hand, pressing it between both of hers. "Then let them look to both of us. You fight with steel, Adrian. Let me fight with spirit. We cannot win this war apart."
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‎For a heartbeat, his storm-gray eyes softened, his thumb brushing the back of her hand. "What have I done, Isabella, to deserve you?"
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‎She managed a faint smile. "You have fought, bled, and risen again when others would have broken."
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‎Their moment shattered when the chapel bells rang—three quick tolls, sharp and urgent.
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‎They rushed to the courtyard.
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‎The bodies of three soldiers lay at the chapel doors. Their throats slit cleanly, their armor unscathed. No sign of battle, no hint of struggle. The men had been cut down not on the field, but within their own walls.
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‎Gasps rippled among the onlookers.
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‎Adrian's face hardened into iron. "Murder. Here, beneath our own roof."
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‎A soldier stepped forward, trembling. "My lord, we found this near the bodies." He held out a strip of parchment, the serpent sigil scrawled in dark ink.
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‎Isabella's blood chilled. The message was clear: The serpent is already among you.
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‎The hours that followed were a blur of fear and fury. Adrian ordered a lockdown of the estate, every gate watched, every servant questioned. But unease spread like wildfire, suspicion burning through the halls.
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‎Isabella walked among the people, speaking softly, urging calm. Yet she saw the fear in their eyes—the fear that no wall was high enough, no gate strong enough, to keep the serpent out.
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‎That night, as the torches guttered low, Isabella returned to her chambers. Adrian stood at the window, half-armored still, his sword leaning against the wall within reach. The shadows stretched long around him, as though they too bent beneath his weight.
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‎"They are not safe," Adrian murmured, his voice raw. "Not the soldiers. Not the people. Not even you."
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‎She crossed the room, laying a hand on his back. "You cannot shield them from every blow."
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‎His head turned, his storm-gray gaze locking on her. "But I can try. I must try. Because if Chloe wins—if she tears this house apart—I lose you."
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‎Her heart squeezed at the rawness in his voice. She reached up, brushing his cheek. "You will not lose me, Adrian. Not to Chloe. Not to war. Not while breath still fills my lungs."
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‎His hand caught hers, holding it against his cheek. "Swear it."
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‎She swallowed, meeting his gaze unflinching. "I swear. But you must swear too—that you will not break yourself trying to bear this alone."
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‎His silence stretched long, but at last, he nodded. "Together."
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‎Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling, a fragile promise forged in the midst of war.
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‎But outside their chamber, the shadows stirred.
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‎A lone figure slipped through the estate's corridors, hood drawn low. In his hand, a sealed message bearing Chloe's crest. He moved with care, pausing only to slide the parchment beneath the loose stone by the northern wall—the mark of a spy fulfilling his duty.
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‎Then, as silent as the serpent he served, he vanished into the darkness.
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‎By dawn, the serpent's banners were once more visible on the hills. Their forces had doubled, their camp sprawling like a dark wound across the land.
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‎Scouts brought word that Chloe's riders had cut off supply lines from the east. The estate was strong, but without food and fresh reinforcements, time itself would become the enemy.
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‎On the battlements, Isabella stood beside Adrian, watching the serpent army stir. Her hand slipped into his, steady despite the dread coiling in her belly.
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‎"They wait," she whispered. "Why not strike again now?"
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‎Adrian's jaw clenched. "Because Chloe wants us to rot. She wants fear and hunger to do what her swords cannot. She will bleed us before she breaks us."
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‎Isabella's gaze lingered on the serpent banners, their coils twisting in the wind. "Then we must find the serpent in our own walls before she strikes again. Or we will already be broken when she comes."
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‎The storm had begun in blood and fire. But the greater danger lay not only in the banners beyond the walls—
‎It lay in the shadow moving silently within them.
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