— Everyone was quietly awaiting your revenge. I didn't think this first moment was the right time to discuss reclaiming Neopolita—there were too many eyes on each noble present, even a private gathering could arouse suspicion among our enemies. But now that I have the main nobles—those truly loyal to the crown—I say that this moment, while King Yurick is away, is when we can act. Seal our city, claim our lands, expel the Rohians from our home. We are proud, and now we can fight—while the army is divided and they are all weakened. — I spoke with austere seriousness, no boasts or pomp. Jamal was the vilest creature I had ever met—I couldn't retract my own words. We were in a closed meeting with the most intimidating nobles of Neopolita. Marchioness Johanna smiled proudly, as if she were gazing upon a true king.
— You can count on my warriors, Your Majesty. — She spoke with a false patriotism aflame in her voice.
Others joined them, caught up in the fervor. This was a disastrous path—I didn't want to incite a rebellion, let alone a massacre. Such bloodshed would invite Akasia to intervene, and my grandfather could dominate both Roham and Neopolita. Yet I found myself trapped under the spell of his brother. Jamal was in my head. My mind throbbed with a lacerating pain. I tried to resist the words spilling from my mouth.
— Don't think it will be easy. The soldiers of Roham are the finest in the continent. But I have a plan that can ensure our ambush. — We would strike tonight. My heart raced; stress churned in my belly. How long would I remain under Jamal's control? According to him, we only needed to remove the general, isolate the guard, create a diversion in the courtyard, and finally take the castle walls. We had to move swiftly—Yurick would return soon, and Jamal knew this. Was Jamal truly working for Akasia? I had too many questions. I needed a way out of his influence. I listened as we discussed the plan.
The room—a cozy parlour usually reserved for tea—was lined with sofas, game tables, bookshelves, and paintings from another era.
— I must take my leave now. — My intent after securing the castle was to confront the people—announce that Yurick had abandoned his own child, heir of Neopolita, and claim our lands back. It would be a bloodbath in the streets: Rohians and their soldiers had already settled among us for months. I had wanted to avoid this at all costs—even now, despair knotted in my chest. How could someone control my actions? Was there no escape? I reached for the dagger I had kept with me since the attacks. I'd received no orders to arm myself—but I gripped it firmly and left the room. I needed to find the general first.
Instead, my steps led me back to the bedchamber. The attack would occur at 11:15, during the guard shift change. I entered to find Jamal seated on the edge of the bed, nibbling on pastries left for me—Lara must have remembered I hadn't eaten all day.
— This is quite good— you should try some. — His casual tone was not an order, so I remained frozen in place.
— How long will you keep this up? — I asked, voice steady but strained.
— As long as I deem it necessary. Until I see Yurick crawling at my feet. Until the King of Akasia plants his spear at that worm's head. — Jamal's tone dripped with irony—for the cruelty in his words was undeniable.
— You can't...
— Yes, I can—and I'm doing it, with your help. — It was obvious I had no choice.
— You give me no choice. — My voice trembled with helplessness.
— Indeed. And when the time comes, perhaps it will be poetic for you to fall from some great height before your beloved, who knows? — He spoke as if we were in some distant place, not this chamber.
At that moment, I heard a knock at the door.
— Your Majesty, I've come with the guard reports as you requested. — It was the general's voice. Jamal was overconfident—he had done exactly as he'd ordered hours ago. Arien would report all troop positions, recent city unrest—fanned by that man. The revolts were to be attributed to me—but I would do everything to stop that.
Jamal rose and slipped into the washroom.
— Come in. — I sat near the pastries, watching as the general entered with documents. She glanced around as was her habit. I wanted to scream: Intruder! A traitor! But the words died in my throat whenever I tried.
Arien began reading aloud, oblivious. The late afternoon light filtered softly across the room. My heart pounded as she finished and stepped back to leave.
— Wait. — I called out, but my voice faltered even as the general paused at the doorway. I drew the dagger from my waistbelt and clutched it tight. This was no guarantee, but a doorway to possibility. I plunged the blade into my thigh before Arien could intercept, anticipating my move. Pain crashed through me like a wave in an icy sea. I didn't know how deep I'd struck—but the spell on my mind shattered like glass. For the first time in hours, light returned to my thoughts.
— Jamal is here! He has set an ambush against the soldiers. He's in the bathroom! — I somehow shouted through the agony. The general drew her sword at once. Jamal stepped out, weapon in hand, arrogance twisting his smile—but I saw fear flicker in his eyes.
— I didn't think you had this courage, majesty. — He spoke cautiously. Arien didn't hesitate—steel rang against steel in a brutal dance of blades. Jamal retreated, trapped—he was fast and underhanded, but could not stand against direct, disciplined strikes. Her blows were precise, unflinching.
He threw a towel at her face; she caught it effortlessly, but it distracted her just long enough. Jamal lunged at me, blade raised. I couldn't dodge—his hand seized the upper fabric of my garments, pulling me close to his chest, the steel at my throat.
— Easy now. — The larger man murmured against my ear, stirring nothing but revulsion within me. My leg was bleeding, and now a knife was pressed to my skin. The general hesitated, yet held her sword with unwavering strength.
Jamal took a few steps toward the window, yanking me harshly so I would follow. I shut my eyes for a moment, terrified that he might sever my neck.
— This isn't over yet, Your Majesty. — The alpha let go, shoving me forward, and my body collapsed into Arien's arms as he hurled himself from the tower to the lower grounds.
— Just give the signal. — I spoke with a fragile voice as I sat down on the bed, gripping my garments tightly, the contractions now arriving in sudden waves. Tears traced my cheeks while the woman sealed the window and ran to trigger the alarm. I was seething, disappointed beyond words with the circumstances—we might lose the child I carried within me. I clenched the fabric of my robes harder, consumed by anguish. The palace physician entered the room quickly, barking orders to her assistants as they gathered everything needed to help me.
Everything was happening too fast. Breathing was difficult, and despite their care, I couldn't calm myself. They exposed the wound on my leg, cleaned it, checked for damage to any arteries, and, once they confirmed it wasn't deep, began to suture. I could feel the needle slipping through flesh, pulling the thread to close the wound that would become a scar. I lifted myself when Arien returned to the room. I had a fever and uterine pain—something that worried the entire medical team surrounding me, urging me to lie down.
— I have orders to give. — My voice trembled with exhaustion, burning with fever. The wound was the least of my concerns.
— No. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll lose the child, Your Majesty. — The woman held my arm firmly, trying to ease me down. Linda was pale. I looked her in the eye with calm resolve, and she released me.
— If we do nothing, many will die tonight in a bloodbath that will cripple the regency. — I shouldn't have to justify myself, but it was necessary. — Bring me parchment and red wax. — I ordered, and one of the maids obeyed immediately.
Maintaining composure was difficult—but it was essential. Tonight would be soaked in blood. I remembered where the attacks were planned and how to prevent them.
— You will detain the soldiers responsible for the internal rebellion. They plan to strike the northern and western palace walls. Seize the southern inner troops. Send your warriors to intercept. Lock them in the dungeons—do not kill them—they're only following orders from the king. But hold them, as the army's general. — When the parchment arrived, I asked the servant to write my words—I couldn't steady my hands. Sweat poured down my face, my hair dampened, the winter chill powerless against the burning tension in my body. I took the quill and signed. Then, I dripped red wax and pressed my ring into the seal. — This will strip the Neopolitan nobles who attended today's meeting of their lands and holdings—for now. I will reassess this later. — Because, by all measures, the guilt of treason against the crown rested solely on me. How could I explain it all? So much was racing through my mind: why Jamal was here, his alliance with Akasia, his ambitions.
— Organize the soldiers. — I was panting now, clinging to a thread of sanity while pain swept through me like fire. — Listen, General—send two messengers with pomp and elegance by morning to meet Yurick. Speak of his brother. Say we need him here. Let the rebels see them, let them know they ride for the King. — Why was it so hard to speak? — Use the Roham soldiers to quash any sign of revolt in the city. Have the captain of the guard—bearing Neopolita's crest—execute two of the rebellion's leaders. Show that insurrection against the red banner will not be forgiven. We've been complacent for too long. — I knew this would spark outrage—but it had to be done. Especially since I didn't know how deep Jamal's influence ran through the citizens and rebel leaders.
I despised public punishments, yet I would follow Roham's customs in this matter: banishment, lashes, executions in public squares—so the people would understand that the banner flying above the city walls now belonged to the Empire of Roham. There could be no more doubts. My father had been fond of such methods. I hated thinking of him now. For the last three years, I'd convinced him not to turn such cruelty upon his people, urging him to find different ways of justice. Now I was about to betray my own ideals—because I believed it was the only way to regain control.
— Form a squad of your most loyal men. I want Jamal dead—decapitated. — I had never felt such fury—never wished death on someone so fiercely. The helplessness of those hours under his control had been a violation—of my mind, my will, my very self. I never wanted to lose control again. I breathed deeply, meeting the general's gaze—there was a new gleam in her eyes. She left the room with the sealed decree to fulfill my grim wishes.
I collapsed onto the bed once the door closed behind her. My clothes were removed; my belly was examined. Tears streamed down my face, and all I could do was pray that my desperate efforts hadn't harmed the life growing inside me. I feared for my child—but I didn't want my people to suffer. There were still children running through the streets of Neolia who didn't deserve to die because I had failed to hold the city together. I was afraid—for myself, and for them. Seeing I would not calm, the doctor pressed a bitter herb to my lips. My whole body numbed. I blacked out. I didn't want to relax, but I had no choice. I went still.
When I opened my eyes, night had fallen on the following day. I felt drained. The fever had broken.
— Diagnosis. — My throat was dry, but the maid beside me helped me drink before the physician stepped forward with her report.
— We were able to prevent the miscarriage, Your Majesty. — Linda's voice was uneasy. — But you must rest completely for at least the next two weeks. Please, don't act on impulse. If you wish to govern, assign someone to act in your name. It doesn't matter who. If you take your medicine and rest, your pregnancy should proceed without further complications.
I knew she was scolding me. I only nodded. Everything would be better when Yurick returned. I could give him guidance from my bed, make the most of the dull monotony of the sheets.
— Have they found Jamal? — I asked a soldier standing guard at the door.
— No, Your Majesty. — Her tone held a different kind of fire. But I paid it no mind. Lara began tending to me and attending to my needs. She brought documents to my room, handling the responsibilities for now without overexertion—under the ever-watchful eye of the physician.