The first slant of dawn slipped over Morning Star Gate, Ravencourt Citys weathered southern portal. The structure towered on all sides, a curtain of obsidian blocks laced with spell-forged iron, a shield left by elders who feared the fiercest threat would rise from inside the walls.
Royal Guards and steadfast retainers fell into neat lines while Kaelith wove between them, black leather cut to bend with every breath and still catch a blade or arrow. She passed in silence, and the ranks stiffened; the queen had become a living banner for the sword.
Heads dipped in her direction, not in surrender but in the simple acceptance of a leader who bled beside them.
Above the scene, King Corven loomed as a still shadow on the parapet, a ruler who refused to recoil, poised to greet whatever storm approached. His cold blue-gray eyes fixed on Kaelith, and she sensed an invisible tether binding their destinies.
Then a single warhorn bellowed from the woodlands beyond the city, and the hidden scheme sprang to life.
Viscount Elric's army advanced in tight, glittering ranks, a wall of black and crimson flanked by siege carts and archers. Mixed in were eager mercenaries and volunteers who had pledged to Thalia-fueled by bright dreams of influence.
The ground shuddered with each thump of the great ram against the Morning Star Gate, the heavy planks vibrating and creaking.
"It can't take much more, Your Majesty!" a guard yelled, panic slipping into his voice.
Kaelith lifted her sword-a living shard of sky-and spoke over the din with a tone that chopped through the noise.
"Today we do not break.
Today we do not waver.
Today we show the world that a king and queen joined by love and loyalty cannot be defeated!"
Shouts of agreement burst from every level of the defense-wardens, nobles, and common blades all choosing togetherness over rivalry.
When the gate splintered and the first attackers poured in, Kaelith was already there-a dark shape framed by flying sparks, flashing steel, and hungry flame.
With one sweep, her blade took the head off the lead intruder.
Then it bit into another, then a third.
Her every step mixed raw strength with easy poise-a warrior queen guarding her king and the realm.
Above her, archers darkened the sky with arrows while foot soldiers locked shields beside their queen; from the heights, King Corven pulled back his enchanted bow, loosing shot after shot with deadly aim into the throng below.
For a heartbeat, the plotting mob hesitated-stunned to see togetherness where fear should have spun them apart.
Yet the hardest trial had still to arrive.
As dust swirled and thinned, a small party strode over the shattered gate-Thalia and Viscount Elric, encased in black plate, flanked by handpicked blades.
The queen set her jaw and tightened her grip on the sword.
The king breathed steady and raised his bow higher.
The final gamble for Ravencourts soul was about to start. Fire and steel waited on a word.