VIVIAN’s POV
The sun barely rises when I leave Verloren’s gates.
The city is still half-asleep—merchants setting up stalls, guards changing shifts, the wind biting through the cloak that hides my face. My horse’s hooves strike the stones with a rhythm that sounds like a heartbeat I can’t slow down.
East Verloren lies beyond the river plains. It’s not far, but the ride feels endless. Every mile, every gust of wind, every memory tries to drag me backward—to him. I force myself to focus on the road. I can’t afford weakness now.
When I finally reach Duke Rueld’s estate, it rises like a fortress—tall gray towers wrapped in ivy, guarded by men in steel and silence. I dismount, announce my purpose, and wait.
It doesn’t take long before they let me in.
Rueld sits in his council room surrounded by scrolls and maps, a half-empty goblet of wine in his hand. His beard is streaked with silver, his eyes calculating. He doesn’t rise when I enter; he simply studies me.
“Lady Vivian,” he says smoothly. “The Queen’s personal maiden. What a rare honor.”
I bow lightly. “Your Grace.”
“Strange,” he muses, swirling his wine. “I didn’t expect her maiden to travel alone without guards. Unless, of course, you came not for her.”
I meet his gaze. “I came on behalf of King Darius.”
The silence between us grows sharp.
He sets down the goblet with a faint clink. “Then you came to the wrong place.”
“Your Grace—”
He raises a hand. “Stop. I’ve no patience for treason dressed in courtesy. If the King wishes to reclaim his throne, he should face his wife himself, not send servants to plead for him.”
“Arinelle’s power grows,” I insist. “If she wins, Verloren will burn in her hands. She’ll turn every ally into a weapon. You know that as well as I do.”
Rueld’s lips twitch into something between pity and mockery. “And what do I gain by helping a dethroned man? Sympathy? Honor? Those don’t fill granaries or guard borders.”
“Darius would remember your loyalty when he returns.”
“Assuming he returns at all.”
The calmness in his tone chills me. “You’d betray your King?”
He smirks. “Betrayal depends on who writes the history. The Queen offers prosperity, unity, a future not chained by an old man’s pride. Why should I risk my name for a losing side?”
My voice lowers. “Because you once swore to defend the Crown.”
He leans back, eyes glinting. “And perhaps I still am. After all, she wears the crown now.”
I take a step forward, my patience unraveling. “You’ll regret this, Duke Rueld. The Queen won’t spare you either once she’s done using you.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But until then, I intend to live comfortably. And if I were you, Lady Vivian, I’d ride fast before I start thinking you’re worth more alive than dead.”
My jaw tightens. “Is that a threat?”
“A warning.” He smiles faintly. “Or a kindness. Depending on how you take it.”
I turn to leave, but his next words stop me cold.
“Oh—and should Her Majesty ever ask, I might mention that her maiden came whispering of rebellion.”
I freeze. He’s daring me to react, to give him reason to call guards. Instead, I keep walking. My boots echo through the hall, steady, deliberate, until I reach the doors and step into the morning air.
Outside, I exhale shakily. My hands tremble only when I’m out of sight.
Failure. Another wall slammed in my face.
***
The road back to the ruins feels longer. My horse is exhausted, and so am I. When we finally descend into the hidden passage, King Darius and Captain Solomon are already deep in discussion over a map spread across the table.
Darius looks up immediately. “You’re back sooner than expected.”
“I failed,” I say bluntly.
The King’s brow furrows. “Tell me everything.”
I recount the conversation word for word—Rueld’s arrogance, his threats, his refusal. Solomon listens in silence, arms crossed.
When I finish, the King leans back heavily. “So he truly means to stand with Arinelle.”
“He means to stand with whoever wins,” Solomon mutters.
Darius rubs his forehead, weary. “She’ll promise him land, power, gold—things I no longer have. He’ll think that’s enough.”
“We can’t fight both her and him,” I say quietly.
“I know.”
The silence stretches. Candles flicker across the table, throwing shadows over the maps—over borders soaked in old hatred.
Finally, I ask what’s been pressing on me for days. “Your Majesty… why have Verdana and Verloren been enemies for so long?”
Solomon glances at me curiously, but says nothing.
Darius looks surprised, then thoughtful. “You ask as if you expect a simple answer.”
“I don’t. But I’d like a true one.”
He nods slowly, his voice lowering. “It began generations before me. Some say Verloren wronged Verdana; others say Verdana struck first. Trade disputes. Border skirmishes. Pride. Power. One war turned into another until we forgot how to stop. Every peace treaty ended with another betrayal. Assassinations, starvation, cities burned. Too much blood has been spilled for forgiveness.”
His eyes darken. “Our kingdoms are like two mirrors facing each other—both reflecting hatred until it never ends. You can’t tell who started it anymore.”
I absorb his words, but they only twist the knife deeper. Dani’s face flashes in my mind again, his soft voice saying my name. How many lives have been destroyed because men like them—like us—were told to hate first and ask later?
When I finally speak, my voice sounds distant. “Then maybe it’s time someone ends it.”
Darius studies me for a long moment. “You speak like a dreamer, Lady Vivian.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Dreamers die early in this world.”
“So do tyrants,” I answer quietly.
He waves a hand, signaling dismissal. “Go rest. I’ll think on our next step.”
***
The ride back to the palace feels heavy, as if the world itself resists me. By the time I arrive, dusk has settled over Verloren.
I almost make it to my chambers before I see him.
Dani stands near the courtyard archway, still in his armor, the evening light catching in his hair. The moment our eyes meet, I stop. Every instinct screams at me to walk away, but my feet betray me and freeze instead.
He looks guilty. He looks broken. I hate the way I notice it, the way it makes my stomach turn in something between hope and regret.
“Vivian,” he says softly.
I turn sharply. “Don’t.”
He steps closer. “Please. Just let me speak.”
“There’s nothing left to say.”
“There’s everything left to say!” His voice cracks, the mask gone. “I never lied about how I felt for you.”
“You lied about everything else!”
“I had no choice!”
I laugh bitterly. “You always have a choice.”
He takes another step. “Tell me what to do, then. Anything. I’ll prove it. Just—don’t look at me like I’m your enemy.”
My heart twists painfully. “Then do something that matters.”
“Name it.”
“Find a way to give King Darius his throne back,” I snap. “Since the Queen took everything from him. Since your lies helped her keep it.”
The silence between us crackles. He looks like I struck him again, but I don’t care.
I step past him, the fury in my chest the only thing holding me together. “You want redemption, Dani? Prove it. Otherwise, stay out of my way.”
I don’t look back.
***
The palace halls are quiet when I reach the children’s chamber. Inside, two small figures sleep soundly beneath silk blankets—Prince Caden and Princess Kaela. Their faces are serene, untouched by the poison of the world they were born into.
I sit beside their bed, exhaustion catching up to me all at once.
Caden stirs slightly, murmuring something about his mother in his sleep. My chest tightens.
“They don’t deserve this,” I whisper.
My reflection glimmers faintly in the window glass—tired eyes, tangled hair, a woman who once believed she could stay detached. Now I’m tangled in wars, secrets, and a love that should never have existed.
I reach out and adjust Kaela’s blanket. Her tiny hand curls around my finger instinctively, trusting without knowing.
I envy that innocence.
“Sleep well,” I murmur. “While the rest of us try to keep your world from falling apart.”
Outside, the storm begins again.
Inside, I sit in silence, watching over two children who may never know peace, and wondering if the man I love will become the enemy I’ll have to destroy.