Lucien's POV
The stone floor of the Royal Arena felt cold, unyielding. It was the training ground, but tonight it felt like an execution platform. I was supposed to be preparing for the duel, but my body was a lead weight and my mind was fractured.
For every drop of blood taken in the duel, the ruling heart feels a commensurate, amplified echo.
Valeriu Sangeu hadn't just raised the stakes; he had found the perfect way to weaponize my love for Vera. I was ready to die for her, but I couldn't bear the thought of my pain slicing through her—a woman already weakened by the ritual and the Blood Curse. Every defensive move, every parry, every calculated retreat would become an agonizing choice: protect my body, or protect her heart?
I drove my practice blade hard into the training dummy, the wood splitting with a loud crack.
"Lucien, you're fighting the wood, not Sangeu," Caelen's voice cut through the arena's heavy silence. He stood at the edge of the light, his gaze unnervingly steady.
I lowered the blade, breathing hard. "The problem isn't the blade, Caelen. It's the amplified echo. If he lands a serious blow, the shock to Vera's system could destabilize the whole Sanguinara power, curse or no curse."
"Then you cannot afford to be hit," Caelen stated, walking forward. He was stripped down, ready to spar. "Sangeu is faster than you. He's not built like a mountain soldier; he's built like a duelist. He's fluid, ancient, and he fights with the certainty of a man who knows his opponent is compromised."
I nodded, gripping the practice blade. Caelen was right. My strength was endurance, brute force, and the sheer will to survive. Valeriu's would be speed and elegance—designed to end the fight quickly and cleanly.
"Show me," I commanded.
Caelen didn't hesitate. He came at me like a striking viper, his speed astonishing. I was forced to abandon my usual wide, sweeping attacks and rely on tighter blocks and faster pivots. He forced me to the defensive, circling me, his movements always aimed at where the fatal blow would land—the heart, the throat, the kidney.
One clean strike, and Vera would feel the shock.
I managed to parry, locking blades with Caelen. The effort sent a jarring shock through my shoulder. "He'll mock me, Caelen. He'll use my past failures—my mother, my sister—to distract me. He'll try to break my focus."
"Then you must be broken already," Caelen said, his eyes cold and practical. "Accept the shame. Accept the failure. Accept that your past sins are irrelevant to your duty now. Use the shame as fuel, not as a weakness. Now move!"
He broke the lock, feinted low, and forced me backward. It was a vicious, necessary training that focused on the one thing Valeriu couldn't match: my absolute devotion.
We trained until the blood—my own, scraped from the practice blade—mixed with the dust on the stone. Exhausted, I leaned against the arena wall, watching Caelen retrieve a small, sealed scroll from his boot.
"The second part of my mission is complete," Caelen reported, wiping sweat from his brow. "I secured Vela and Neressa. They are safe, but they are terrified. They confirmed that Aldric's mercenaries—not Sangeu's troops—were guarding them. It proves Sangeu is simply leveraging Aldric's contingency plan."
I felt a surge of cold fury at my mother. Even in exile, she was still weak.
"Good. Their testimony will discredit Sangeu's claim to be a righteous intervener," I said.
Caelen shook his head, looking troubled. "That's not the leverage Sangeu is counting on. I found something else in the safe house. A message left by one of Aldric's old contacts, clearly intended for Sangeu, but intercepted by my counter-network."
He handed me the scroll. The wax seal was broken, the script inside ancient and familiar—Aldric's own hand. My blood ran cold as I scanned the brief, coded message.
"She has the power, but her heart is too weak. If she will not accept the Serpent, the Blood Line must be exposed. The price of the crown must be paid with the first debt."
I looked at Caelen, my jaw tight. "'The first debt'?"
Caelen's expression was grim. "I cross-referenced Aldric's old ledgers, the ones Celene helped us access. Aldric's greatest political debt, the one he swore to repay with the life of a family member, wasn't to Sangeu or even to Shadowhold."
"Who, then?"
Caelen delivered the news with agonizing slowness. "Aldric owed the 'first debt' to Lord Valerius—Valeriu Sangeu's own brother. This debt was not paid to Sangeu directly, but to his older brother, who was assassinated five years ago."
I felt the ground shift beneath me. "And what was the nature of the debt?"
"A life, Lucien. Aldric promised the life of a noble in exchange for a crucial military asset five years ago. He was waiting for the right moment to pay it, to remove a political inconvenience." Caelen's eyes fixed on mine, delivering the final, crushing blow. "Lucien, the asset Aldric promised was not a random noble. It was Neressa. He planned to hand your sister over to the Carpathians as payment for his blood debt."
The air left my body in a sharp gasp. My mother's treachery, my own exile, all of it was secondary. The King, Vera's own father, had condemned my innocent sister to death to secure his military flank.
"Sangeu knows this," I whispered, the rage turning into a sickening sense of betrayal.
"Yes. And he knows that if he exposes this truth—that King Aldric planned to sacrifice Neressa—it will not only taint the Sanguinara line with profound dishonor but will also completely break the loyalty of the last surviving members of your family," Caelen concluded. "He has the final piece of leverage to prove the entire foundation of the crown is built on a lie and a sacrifice."
Valeriu wasn't just leveraging my exiled mother; he was leveraging the sacrifice of my sister, orchestrated by the very King I was now sworn to protect. He was targeting the consequences of my past, threatening to weaponize it against Vera's legitimacy.
I looked down at the scroll in my hand, the parchment trembling slightly. Vera needed my honor, my strength, and my unwavering presence in the duel. But how could I fight to protect the crown when the crown was built upon the planned murder of my own blood?
I crushed the scroll in my fist. I had to face Valeriu on the Field of Honor, knowing that Valeriu could, at any moment, expose the truth about Neressa's fate and permanently destroy the people's trust in Queen Vera.
I had to protect the Queen, but I was suddenly fighting the ghost of the man she called Father.