Lady Maris scrambled down from the carriage, her breath catching in her throat as the full extent of the devastation ca into view.
The western wing of the royal palace lay in ruins, reduced to a smoldering pile of stone and ash. The central section fared only slightly better—half-collapsed, its grand towers shattered like fragile glass.
She gasped, overwheld by the destruction, but relief flickered in her chest. The battle was finally over.
Battles like these, especially when involving cunning strategists and ancient vampires of imnse power, could drag on for days, even weeks, with bloodshed mounting as ti wore on.
This one, though, had been brutal and swift. The victory, if it could be called that, ca at a heavy price.
Picking her way through the rubble, Lady Maris scanned the broken stones, searching for any signs of life. Other noblewon followed, their faces pale, their expressions strained, each searching frantically for their husbands or household knights.
Despite their personal losses, they offered what help they could, lifting debris to reveal those trapped beneath.
The air hung thick with the acrid stench of fire and the faint moans of the wounded. As she ventured deeper through the ruins toward the west gate, Lady Maris spotted a familiar figure—a crumpled form barely visible under the wreckage. Her heart jolted.
"Margrave Nicholas!" she cried out, rushing forward.
He lay unconscious, blood staining his fine armor, his face ashen. She knelt beside him and called for the knights. "Get him out of the rubble! Carefully!"
Two knights scrambled over and gently lifted him, carrying him toward what remained of the central building.
"Find the dics. Now!" she commanded, her voice sharp, allowing no room for hesitation.
With Margrave Nicholas in safe hands, she pressed onward, her eyes darting from one face to another, recognizing familiar comrades amidst the carnage.
She paid no attention to the enemies, even the elders who had openly opposed King Valentin. Their fates were of no concern to her now. Survival, and salvaging what remained of their forces, was all that mattered.
More and more familiar vampires were pulled from the rubble, their faces etched with pain and confusion.
Lady Maris stood resolute with an unyielding deanor despite the horrific scene unfolding around her. While other ladies around her wept openly, one even swaying as if about to faint, she fought to maintain her composure.
But then, amid the chaos, she caught sight of a face that sent her heart plumting into despair.
Her resolve shattered, and she collapsed to her knees. With trembling hands, she began to clear away the jagged pieces of stone, desperation fueling her efforts.
"My Lord..." she whispered, her teeth chattering as she dug deeper. "My love..."
"My Lady, let us help," a group of knights called out, rushing toward her after tending to other survivors.
Lady Maris fell back, a cry of anguish escaping her lips. "His Majesty..."
Tears stread down her cheeks, blurring her vision as the worst scenarios raced through her mind. Panic dulled her senses, drowning out the cries and chaos around her.
One of the knights crouched beside her. With a steady and reassuring voice, he said, "He’s alive, My Lady. He’s just unconscious."
Those reassuring words pulled Lady Maris back to her feet. "Take His Majesty to the eastern wing—his chamber. Call the royal physician to attend to him first before examining any other survivors!"
"Yes, My Lady."
After receiving a clear task, the knights began to dig through the rubble, carefully lifting King Valentin’s body and carrying him into the palace.
As the knights worked, Lady Maris found Margrave Boris and the other high officials, relief washing over her when she spotted them. But just as quickly, a chill crept down her spine.
She had scoured the western wing thoroughly and was confident she had recovered every vampire loyal to the king. But one thought gnawed at her.
"Where is Lisbeth?" she cried, spinning around to scan the debris once more. "Why didn’t I see her? She went to the battle!"
"Her Highness is here! My Lady, I found Her Highness!" a knight called out.
Lady Maris turned toward the sound of the voice, her heart racing. She lifted her skirts and rushed through the rubble, nearly tumbling several tis as she navigated the uneven terrain.
"Where is she? My daughter!"
As she approached, her heart dropped. Lisbeth lay on the ground, gravely wounded.
The right side of her neck and arm was burned, while a gaping hole in her abdon oozed dark blood. The wound had begun to shrink, a sign of her body’s self-healing ability, but the severity of her injuries hampered its effectiveness.
Lady Maris knelt and gathered Lisbeth into her arms, cradling her daughter’s head as she groaned in pain. The knights surrounding them reminded her that Lisbeth needed imdiate dical attention.
"Right!" Lady Maris wiped the tears from her cheeks, her heart racing. "Get her to the eastern wing, near His Majesty!"
***
Lady Maris spent her ti darting back and forth between the chambers of King Valentin and Princess Lisbeth, her heart heavy with worry. Yet, amid the chaos, she was grateful to have both of her loved ones survive.
Only now could she begin to process the situation. So generals from the Nightwarden had arrived to assist, but many of their knights remained unaware of the battle’s unfolding, making it nearly impossible to rally additional support.
Margrave Boris, who had collapsed deep within the ruins of the western grounds, recovered more quickly than most. His injuries were less severe, allowing his self-healing abilities to kick in, aided by the dicine prescribed by the royal physicians.
When she heard that he was waking up, Lady Maris rushed to his side. It was there, in the dim light of his chamber, that she learned the full truth of what had happened on the battlefield.
Upon learning what had occurred in the western wing, King Valentin rushed there without hesitation.
anwhile, Margrave Boris stayed behind in the central palace, overseeing the mobilization of the remaining forces and ensuring the full evacuation of everyone from the western wing.
"When I finally arrived, it was too late," Margrave Boris said. "And then, Emperor Kaan appeared."
He paused, his brow furrowing as if reliving the mont. "He narrowed his eyes and muttered, ’I need to take a nap.’ And then... he raised his hands."
The margrave clenched his fists. His expression darkened. "In an instant, everything turned to dust. I blacked out after that."
Reviews
All reviews (0)