The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. The once-glorious halls of Eldoria's palace now felt like a tomb—silent, waiting, suffocating under the weight of impending war.
Eva stood in the war room, hands braced against the massive wooden table where old maps and new battle strategies lay scattered. Across from her, Lucian leaned back against a chair, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on her.
"We don't have the numbers," he said flatly. "Even if we gather what's left of the royal guards still loyal to your father, Magnus controls the kingdom. He has the army, the treasury, and the throne."
Eva gritted her teeth. "Then we take it back."
Lucian exhaled, shaking his head. "Easier said than done, Princess."
She glared at him. "We've come too far for you to start doubting now, Sir Valemont."
Lucian's jaw tightened. They had spent years at odds—Eva's rebellious nature and sharp tongue clashing against Lucian's rigid discipline and sense of duty. But now, as much as he hated to admit it, they were bound by the same goal.
Magnus had to fall.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. The door swung open, and Tobias strode in, looking uncharacteristically serious.
"You two lovebirds finished fighting?" he asked. "Because we have a problem."
Lucian shot him a glare, but Eva ignored the jab. "What is it?"
Tobias tossed a bloodstained parchment onto the table. "Magnus just declared himself King of Eldoria."
---
A Kingdom in Chains
Magnus' coronation had been swift and brutal. The moment King Aldric had collapsed, the self-proclaimed regent seized control. Now, the people of Eldoria lived in fear—those who resisted were executed, and those who remained were forced into silence.
Word had spread quickly. Magnus had promised peace, but everyone knew the truth—his rule would be built on blood and betrayal.
As Eva paced the war room, her mind raced.
"We need allies," she muttered. "The southern houses—House Draeven, House Montclair, the Blackwolf Mercenaries—"
Lucian cut her off. "Most have already sworn loyalty to Magnus. The ones who haven't are either too weak to fight or too afraid to try."
"Then we'll give them something worth fighting for."
Lucian arched a brow. "Oh? And what would that be?"
Eva met his gaze, unwavering. "Hope."
Lucian stared at her for a long moment. Then, with a resigned sigh, he pushed off the chair.
"Hope doesn't win battles," he muttered, but there was something different in his voice. A flicker of something Eva wasn't sure she had ever heard before.
Belief.
---
The Resistance Rises
The old cathedral on the outskirts of the kingdom had become their sanctuary. By night, their numbers grew—disillusioned knights, angry merchants, former soldiers who had lost everything to Magnus' greed.
At the center of it all stood Eva and Lucian.
They were an odd pair, always at odds, always pushing each other to the limit. But now, they stood side by side, united against a common enemy.
Tobias moved through the crowd, cracking jokes and lifting spirits, while Isolde tended to the wounded who had escaped Magnus' wrath. Even Gareth, the usually reserved tactician, had thrown his lot in with them.
"We attack in three nights," Lucian declared, his voice carrying through the hall. "Magnus will expect us to run. Instead, we bring the fight to his doorstep."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but no one disagreed. They had been waiting for this moment.
For revenge.
For justice.
For freedom.
---
A Reckoning Approaches
That night, Eva stood by the cathedral balcony, staring at the city lights below.
"You should rest," Lucian's voice came from behind her.
She didn't turn. "I can't."
Lucian exhaled, stepping beside her. "You're thinking about your father."
She nodded.
King Aldric remained unconscious, his body failing under the weight of illness and betrayal. If he died before they reclaimed the throne, Eldoria would truly be lost.
Eva clenched her fists. "He would have fought for this kingdom. I have to do the same."
Lucian studied her, his expression unreadable. "You're not your father."
Her heart twisted. "I know."
There was a pause. Then—
"That's not a bad thing."
Eva turned to him, surprised. Lucian wasn't one for reassurances. But in his eyes, she saw something that made her breath hitch.
Trust.
"You think we'll win?" she asked softly.
Lucian smirked. "We'd better. I'm not dying because of your stubbornness, Princess."
Eva rolled her eyes, but for the first time in weeks, she almost smiled.
War was coming.
And this time, Magnus wouldn't be the one left standing.