Morning in Eldrin was not like anywhere else—golden light streaming through high towers, the scent of fresh roses from royal gardens, and bells chiming softly in the distance. But inside the castle walls, tension simmered beneath the beauty.
Lily sat at the edge of the King's war chamber, eyes locked on the map sprawled across the table. The King stood at the head, cloaked in black, his fingers tracing borders between his land and the stolen kingdom now ruled by his sister's murderer.
Rina leaned against the wall, chewing on a dried fig. Her sharp eyes scanned everyone in the room. She didn't trust anyone—not even Lily. Not yet.
"Three villages have rebelled," the King said. "The people are growing bold."
"They're also dying," Rina added, flicking a dagger into the wooden table. "The false king is sending soldiers to burn their homes."
Lily felt fire rise in her chest. "Then we need to move faster."
The King looked at her, calm but intense. "We will. But war is a game of patience. And precision."
Rina snorted. "Tell that to the people losing their lives."
"We can't storm his castle with emotion," the King replied. "We need a plan."
Lily stepped forward. "Then start with me. Train me. Teach me. Use me."
The King hesitated. "You've been through enough."
"I'm still standing," she said. "And I won't stop until he's on his knees."
There was silence… then a faint smile tugged at the corner of the King's lips.
"Very well."
---
That Night – Training Begins
Under the pale moonlight, Lily stood in the secret courtyard behind the castle, a wooden sword in hand. She was dressed in light armor now—not a princess, not a servant—something in between.
The King stood across from her, holding a real blade, though his movements were careful, precise.
"Your stance is off," he said, circling her.
She adjusted her feet.
"Better."
They began slowly—swings, blocks, footwork. At first, Lily stumbled. Her muscles ached. But she didn't stop. Every time she fell, she stood again.
"For someone with no training," the King said, breathing a little harder now, "you fight like someone who's already lost everything."
"I have," she replied.
He lowered his sword.
Their eyes locked.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he said, "You're stronger than you know."
And just like that, Lily felt her heart stir in a way it hadn't since the Queen's death.
---
Later That Week – The First Spark
Lily walked through the gardens alone, her fingers brushing over blooming roses. Everything felt unreal—like she was in a story too big for her to belong in.
"Thinking about her?"
The voice came from behind—soft, familiar.
The King.
Lily nodded. "I dream of her sometimes. I hear her laugh. Then I wake up, and she's gone again."
The King sat beside her on the stone bench.
"I see her too," he whispered. "Every time I close my eyes."
He reached out, slowly, unsure—then rested a hand on hers.
Warmth bloomed.
"I promise you, Lily," he said, "We will make him pay."
Their eyes met.
For a moment, there was no kingdom. No war. No pain.
Just a girl who lost her best friend, and a King who lost his sister—fighting together to make it right.