[Lavinia’s POV—Red Wall Castle—Continuation]
Haldor was still kneeling when I turned away. I didn’t look back—if I did, I wasn’t sure what I’d feel.
"Stand up, Haldor," I ordered while walking past him. "I hate my knights and captains kneeling."
He rose imdiately, posture straight and respectful again—as if nothing had happened.
"Take rest," I added. "We might receive good news tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Highness." Nothing in his voice betrayed the storm from monts ago.
I left the training grounds, stepping into the cold stone hallway of Red Wall Castle.
The quiet pressed on . My footsteps echoed. And unfortunately... so did my heartbeat.
Why was it beating so hard?
I pressed my palm to my chest.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
I shook my head and continued walking—until a low voice suddenly murmured directly behind my ear, "Is your heart tingling—?"
Instinct reacted before my brain did. I spun, seized the intruder’s wrist, and twisted hard enough to make bones beg.
"OW—OW—OW—!! IT HURTS—!!" a very familiar voice screeched. "I SURRENDER! I SURRENDER, PRINCESS! HAVE RCY ON MY POOR, DELICATE SHOULDER!"
I blinked.
"Oh. It’s you."
Rey stared up at from the floor—kneeling because I physically forced him there, not out of respect—expression twisted between outrage and pain.
"Yes, of COURSE it’s ," he wheezed. "Who else sounds this handso sneaking up in hallways?"
I tightened the hold a fraction just to prove a point. His eyes bulged. "OKAY, OKAY, I WAS WRONG. I AM NOT HANDSO. LET LIVE!"
I released him.
Rey rolled his shoulder dramatically, grumbling. "For the love of every god in every religion—do NOT break before I have cute kids with my sera."
I crossed my arms. "Then don’t sneak behind whispering things."
Rey got to his feet, brushing off imaginary dust with exaggerated flair. "I wasn’t whispering things. I was checking if you’re going to faint because of Sir Haldor’s very muscular arms."
. . .
So he saw everything. This sneaky, great, supre mage bastard.
I stared at him, confusion plastered across my face. "What do you an? And why do you sound like you’re narrating a scandalous affair?"
Rey gasped as if I’d insulted his artistic soul. "Scandalous affair? Please. Let’s call it... a destined affair."
. . .
. . .
I kept my expression deadpan. "Rey."
"Yes?"
"Just tell why you approached before my brain commits suicide."
He chuckled, finally dropping the theatrics. "I actually ca to share good news."
My eyes sparkled before I could stop them. "Oh—did another cowardly lord abandon his territory already?"
He stared at like I was impossible. "Yes, of course. Leave it to Cassius Devereux’s daughter to respond to ’good news’ with ’blood, terror, and land acquisition.’"
"Then what is the news?" I pressed.
His smirk softened into sothing genuinely happy—a rare expression on Rey. "Theon and your teacher... beca parents. She gave birth. A healthy baby boy."
A smile blood on my face—unguarded. "Really? That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for them. I wonder what they nad him."
Rey nodded, then snorted. "Yes. Everyone is happy. Except Theon."
I blinked. "What? Why?"
Rey leaned in conspiratorially. "Because His Majesty almost strangled him today. Theon grabbed His Majesty’s cloak and sobbed that he ’desperately wanted a daughter.’ The emperor nearly fed him to the river."
I froze—then burst into a soft laugh I wasn’t expecting. "Still... it’s good news."
"It is," Rey agreed gently.
For a second, he just watched —not mocking, not dramatic, just... seeing .
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hmm?"
"Are you okay?"
"Of course I am," I replied a bit too fast.
Rey didn’t believe —he never did when it ca to emotions.
"Trust , that broken heart of yours," he said softly, "it’ll heal. And one day, you’ll find the one who loves you truly."
The hallway fell silent.
My voice lowered. "You speak like... Osric was never my real love."
Rey smiled—not cruelly, not smugly—sadly. He turned, already walking away.
"Osric loved you with his mind," he said over his shoulder. "But soone out there has started to love you with their soul."
He waved one hand lazily as he left. "See you later. My Sera is waiting—and I prefer living."
And with that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving alone in a corridor that suddenly felt too wide, too quiet, and too honest.
My heart throbbed in a way I did not ask for.
I hate it when Rey talks in puzzles... I hated it more that he was usually right. And I absolutely hated the sinking realization that...sotis he knew more about than I knew about myself.
My steps resud down the long hallway—stiff, irritated, and stubborn. "Let’s...just focus on war."
***
[The Next Day—The Red Wall Castle—War Room]
By the next morning, the war room was buzzing long before sunrise. Maps, reports, fresh intelligence—everything arrived at once. And among them was the news we expected... and wanted.
"The rulers of three more territories fled during the night," Haldor announced, placing sealed docunts on the table. "Just as we thought, your highness."
Rey leaned against the wall, arms crossed and smug. "Cowards always pack their bags before courage wakes up."
Arwin scanned the reports with razor focus. "Their soldiers deserted too. Their castles and resources are unattended."
Exactly as planned.
I took the papers from the table and read through them.
Three benefits. Three advantages. Three steps forward in a war that was supposed to be difficult.
First—we could seize those territories without spilling a drop of blood. Second—every territory lost weakened the prince’s hold and resources. Third—the remaining undecided rulers would see the tide turning and defect to us.
A domino effect.A kingdom crumbling under its own fear.
I let the docunts fall to the table and straightened.
"Prepare the envoy teams," I ordered. "We’re taking each abandoned territory imdiately. Quietly. Quickly. And without burning a bridge we might need later."
Zerith nodded. "We’ll secure the garrisons and resource stores before anyone else notices they’re vacant."
"And," I added, "spread the word that people may take food and supplies from these territories with no punishnt."
Haldor’s voice was low. "Buying the hearts of the desperate."
"No," I corrected. "Returning what was stolen from them."
I turned back to the map.
"The mont people realize I feed them... while their ’rightful’ rulers ran away to save their own skins..." I tapped the table. "The people will choose . Not because I threaten them. Because I protect them."
Rey smiled softly. "People don’t fight for their land. They fight for the person who gives them a reason to live."
The war room went quiet—the admiring kind of quiet. Then Osric stepped closer, placing a parchnt on the table.
"Another issue, Your Highness. The ruler of West Darn fled but left ssages for his people. He told the population to resist us."
Ah.
"There’s always one who tries to turn his incompetence into patriotism," I muttered. "Does he still have soldiers?"
"Barely," Osric replied. "He fled with his personal guard. The city has maybe forty trained n left. They aren’t stationed—just drinking."
"So resistance in West Darn will be loud," Arwin grinned, "but not long."
"West Darn will not be taken by blade," I said. "It will be taken by truth."
I grabbed a blank scroll and dipped the quill.
"What are you writing, Your Highness?" Haldor asked.
"A decree," I answered, "stating that any city abandoned by its ruler will fall under Elorian protection and law—and every people is free from taxes until the war ends. Signed with my imperial seal."
A legal promise.
Power is built not on fear but on loyalty.
"And when they compare that decree to a spineless ruler who ran away screaming," Arwin said slowly, "they’ll welco your flag, not resist it."
I sealed the parchnt with wax.
The plan was working. Piece by piece, ren wasn’t simply losing the war.
It was switching sides.
I sat back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other, authority settling over the room like a crown that already fit.
"Prepare to take the territories," I said. "No bloodshed. No threats. Only law."
They all nodded.
"By tomorrow morning," I continued, "we move to West Darn. Make sure every settlent receives my decrees before noon."
"Yes, Your Highness."
One by one they left—the war room gradually emptying, the sound of hurried boots and rustling parchnt fading down the corridor.
And soon, only one figure remained.
Sir Haldor.
I stretched my arms with a quiet groan. "Gods... I trained too much yesterday with you, Sir Haldor."
Without a blink, he replied, "Training is good for strengthening muscle, Your Highness."
I laughed under my breath and leaned my cheek against my fist, studying him openly.
Haldor Vaelthorn.
Since the day he beca Captain of the Imperial Army, he had always been the sa—disciplined, expressionless, predictable in restraint, and unreadable in emotion.
Now a days I may have seen so emotions. But I wonder... What kind of life made a man this contained?
This is the first ti that I am really curious about you, Haldor Vaelthorn.
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