The forest was silent but for the growl of the hounds and the rasp of weary breaths. Alec's mocking grin lingered, his words hanging like a blade over their heads.
Rensic's grip tightened on his sword. His heart thundered with rage and loyalty, torn between the duty to his king and the lives of the men who still stood beside him. He looked at Alden—bloodied, exhausted, yet waiting for his command. He looked at the faces of the few soldiers left, eyes hollow but pleading.
He exhaled sharply, the weight of his decision pressing down like iron.
"We fall back," Rensic said at last, his voice low but firm. "I will not throw your lives away. We retreat—for now."
Alden's jaw clenched, but he nodded, understanding the burden behind the words. The men shifted, relief and sorrow mingling in their eyes.
Alec's laughter rang through the forest, cruel and triumphant. "Wise, Duke. Very wise. Crawl back to your shadows, then. But remember—your king still suffers. And every moment you waste, I savor."
The hounds parted, snarling but obedient to Alec's command, allowing the battered company to withdraw.
"My king is not someone to fall easily," Rensic said, his voice steady though his chest burned with fury. "He is beyond your capability."
But Alec only smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "We shall see."
The forest seemed to close in behind them, the glow of the hounds' eyes burning like embers in the dark.
Rensic did not look back. His sword hung heavy at his side, his heart heavier still. He had saved his men—but at what cost?
The company moved in silence, each step away from Alec a wound to their pride. Some soldiers whispered prayers, others clenched their jaws, unwilling to speak of the shame that gnawed at them.
Alden walked close to Rensic, his voice low. "Your Grace… how should we save His Majesty? This retreat cannot be the end. We must find him and bring him back."
Rensic's gaze hardened, his jaw set. "It isn't. We will regroup. There is another way to find him. As far as we know our king, he is not someone who falls so easily to the hands of that man. We have seen how capable he is. He would never have come this far if he were weak." He paused, then faced Alden directly. "We will meet him beyond this forest. I am certain he is on that path. His Majesty will find his way back—whatever it may cost—just to return to the palace."
The men straightened at his words, weary but stirred by the Duke's conviction. Resolve flickered in their eyes, fragile yet alive.
But in the depths of the forest, Alec's laughter carried once more, cruel and endless, promising that Lucan's torment was far from over.
----------
"Milady, do you really need to go this far? If the master learns of this, he might lock you in your room," Agatha, Tiana's maid, said with concern as she hurried after her mistress, watching her climb into the carriage in secret.
Tiana paused, her hand resting on the carriage door, and turned to look at her.
"I won't sit idle while my king is missing," she said firmly. "Better that I go and search for him than waste time waiting in that house."
Agatha's voice trembled.
"But, milady—"
Tiana's eyes flashed.
"Stop it, Agatha! My father will never know if no one speaks of this. It's sudden, yes, but I'll return soon—after I've spoken with Sir Greaves and the Duke."
Agatha lowered her gaze, torn between loyalty and fear. She knew the Marquis would never forgive her if he discovered she had allowed this. Yet she also knew Tiana's resolve was unshakable.
The carriage door shut with a decisive thud. The driver cracked the reins, and the horses surged forward into the night.
Inside, Tiana sat upright, her mind racing. Every beat of the wheels against the cobblestones echoed her determination. She would not be caged by grief or politics. If Lucan was alive, she would find him. And if the Duke or Sir Greaves held answers, she would drag the truth from them herself.
Agatha sat opposite her, wringing her hands nervously.
"Milady... if Sir Greaves or the Duke discover you came without your father's consent, they may refuse to speak."
Tiana's lips curved into a thin, defiant smile.
"Then I'll make them speak. Tonight, Agatha, I am not just the Marquis's daughter. I am the woman who will be queen."
Tiana threw her gaze outside the carriage window. Her thoughts spiraled, clinging to fragile hope. The answer she sought had to be good news—it had to be. No man could ever surpass His Majesty in her eyes. He was the only one she wished to be with, the man she dreamed of building a family with, the one she longed to grow old beside.
Her heart ached, yet her resolve hardened with every turn of the wheels.
The journey was long, the road winding through forests and valleys until the carriage slowed. Tiana's breath caught as her eyes widened. Before her lay the wreckage of a village—houses burned, walls collapsed, the air heavy with the stench of ash and blood. It looked as though it had only recently been slaughtered.
It was Lucan's doing. His relentless search for the Saintess had left devastation in his wake.
"Oh my! This village was once alive," Agatha gasped, covering her mouth with trembling hands. "Poor souls… what a tragedy."
The carriage pressed onward, but the sight repeated itself again and again. Each village they passed bore the same scars—burned homes, abandoned streets, and silence where laughter once lived. Towns that had thrived now lay in ruin, destroyed by Lucan's campaign.
Tiana's chest tightened. She pressed her hand against the window, her voice breaking.
"Lucan… why? Why must your path to the Saintess be paved with so much suffering?"
Agatha looked at her mistress with sorrow.
"Milady, if His Majesty truly caused this, then perhaps he is not the man you believe him to be."
But Tiana shook her head fiercely, her eyes burning with defiance.
"No. He is the man I love. Whatever he has done, there must be a reason. I will not judge him by rumors or by what others claim to have seen. The truth must be spoken by the one at the center of it all."
The carriage rolled on, deeper into the scarred lands, until at last the horizon revealed the city where they would stay. The journey to the Silver Lake was a two-day trip, so they needed a place to rest for the night.
The carriage door opened, and Tiana stepped out gracefully. She waited nearby while Agatha asked passersby for directions to an inn.
As she stood, a group of noble ladies swept past her, their gowns rustling like whispers of silk. Tiana caught fragments of their conversation.
"The king is dead," said the girl in the red gown, her tone sharp and dismissive. "And it serves him right, after slaughtering so many lives."
Tiana's ears burned. Her heart clenched with fury at the words. Without hesitation, she strode toward them, her presence commanding despite her youth.
"How dare you speak of His Majesty in such a way?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the night air.
The ladies turned, startled by her sudden approach. The girl in red raised her chin, defiant.
"We speak only the truth. He was a tyrant, and the people rejoice at his fall."
Tiana's eyes blazed.
"You know nothing of him. You see only the ruins, but not the man who bore the weight of prophecy, nor the king who fought for this kingdom. He is not dead. And even if he were, you will not stain his name with your venom."
The other ladies exchanged uneasy glances, whispering among themselves. The girl in red smirked, though her confidence faltered under Tiana's glare.
"And who are you to defend him so fiercely?" she asked.
Tiana straightened her posture, her voice steady and proud.
"I am Tiana Emberlain. And I will not allow anyone to speak of my king with such contempt."
The ladies fell silent, their arrogance crumbling in the face of her conviction. One by one, they turned away, retreating down the street without another word.
Agatha hurried back, pale with worry.
"Milady, you must be careful. Words like theirs spread quickly. If people learn of your loyalty to the king, they may turn against you."
Tiana's gaze lingered on the retreating figures, her jaw set.
"Let them talk. I will prove them wrong. I will find him, Agatha. And when I do, the world will remember who their true king is."