Fantasy A Serpent's Crown | tiski x The_Blooming_Sky

[tiski]

A Serpent's Crown

Prologue​

---

The throne room was cold. Each stone wall felt vacant, and the air polluted by the tangy caress of blood and ash. Fractured light from the tall windows spilled into the walkway like a threat.

The royal banners trembled as the large entrance groaned open, revealing the heart of the rebellion against the backlight. Bloodied leather armor, faces hidden, eyes glowing like snakes. The echoes of war spilled in from the courtyard–steel against sheaths, orders being shouted, cries of pain or defiance.

A dark olive cloak flared around midnight black boots, the edges stained. Chin up, shoulders squared, he looked like steel and ice embodied. Alabaster hair curled into a knot at the back of his head, drawing his sharp features tight. His eyes, once calm like ocean waves, now hissed with icy intent. The sword in his hand was flecked with blood and dripping with venom.

His rebellion guard crested behind him like a living shield as he paced across the room, each stride laced with intent. The walk of a man who knew he’d already won.

The royal family curled at the throne like frightened deer.

“It’s over, Your Grace.”

His voice was low, but the intent thundered through the room nonetheless, breaking decorum along with any trust that had once lived between them. Once a trusted knight of the Crown, turned traitor with the sound of a horn.

“The city is besieged,” he continued. “Hand the crown over and your dear family lives.”

The King hesitated. His gaze roamed over the room–looking for hope, maybe. Some sign that his allies would burst past the gates before this ordeal was over.

Dien waited. He knew there was no hope here. No resistance breaching the gates to the castle, or magic to sweep them away from this moment. Only steel remained between these walls–betrayal wrapped in a veil of silence. And Dien had more steel than the King could threaten him with.

So let the air thicken. Let them cling to the sliver of hope he'd offered. He had learnt to bite down the bitter taste of lies.

The princess stood firm at her father’s side, fiercely loyal despite the wrinkle in her brow. He’d learned to read her face when the crown disappeared. The curl in her fingers when she was afraid. The way her gaze moved when she had no choices left.

Dien flicked his eyes back to the King and spoke. His voice was thick with warning.

“Much like you, I do not practice restraint.”

A hand signal, and the knights of the rebellion moved, circling the princess like coiled predators. A soft gasp of defiance erupted as she was yanked back to be held steady, arms behind her back. One knight unsheathed his blade. He raised it to her throat.

The King’s hands twitched at his sides. The princess’s breaths were shallow against the threat of steel.

Dien tilted his head. A fire long contained flared through his chest, unbound and elevating his senses beyond success. He didn’t have to speak, bark commands or swing his sword. He didn’t have to contain himself anymore.

The city was theirs. And by default, so was the throne.

The edges of the crown gleamed in the lowlight, jewels burning inside their golden clutches. Slowly, it lifted from the King’s head, and soon, the weight of all his regrets clattered at Dien’s feet.

---

The_Blooming_Sky ​

 

[tiski]

Earlier that day…

---

Darakia exploded with color at noon. Built upon a giant, mountainous slope, the city rose like a forest throne over the rest of the kingdom. When the sun beamed into the spires, their golden light bathed tree crowns and city squares in warmth.

Pity that blood had to spill over such pretty trails.

Word had spread quickly. The kingdom is at war with Rheyka. Some said the Rhykans had threatened with violence. Others said they’d struck first. And then there were the hushed theories of innocence–that the King had acted out of greed and animosity rather than protection.

All the rebellion could hear were their loved ones’ screams, as they were torn to shreds by the kingdom’s claws. And as time passed since the attack, they’d planned much more than just retaliation.

Outside the castle gates, stood a carriage reinforced with steel and royal engravings. Around it, knights on horses idled in formation, armored with plate where it mattered and swords strapped at the hips.

A couple of them shared quiet small talk under flutters of wind and birdsong. Dien, posted at the carriage door, scanned the castle entrance arches with sky blue eyes, noting any shift beyond the faint swaying of the gate. The sun caressed his tanned cheek, and its warmth slinked under his armor, sifting through the fabrics.

The orders were simple—take the princess to the theater, ensure her safety while she enjoyed herself, and then take her back.

He would follow her closely. Open doors for her, be the first to move when she asked: a steady, reliable presence at her side. He’d mapped out every exit and hidden alcove in that structure. The amount of ridges and rows. The slope of the staircases.

He’d play his part until the very end.

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

The warm rays of sun bid farewell to the morning hours,beaming down on the Kingdom of Darakia and its citizens whotraversed the cobblestone streets. Aria stepped outside of the castle doors, immediately recognizing the sudden shift in atmosphere.

The air within the palace walls was dreadfully stiff, offering no warmth or comfort despite the luxurious comfort and amenities. It was for this reason that Aria relished in the warm air that filled her lungs, her crystal blue gaze wandering towards the trees which could be seen in the distance.

Her hair fell past her waist in waves of gold, adorned with a small headpiece which reminded others of her status. The goldenband was adorned with translucent jewels which reflected small threads of light every which way, similarly to her earrings and necklace she had adorned for the afternoon.

Cream-colored fabric adorned her pale skin, flowing into a beautifully simplistic gown, at least in comparison to other royals clothing. The draping fabric gave her appearance an unspoken elegance, cinching tighter around her waist in order tofurther illustrate her feminine figure.

She walked with intention towards the gilded carriage, scanning the numerous guards whom would accompany her to the theater that day. They were all necessary, especially with unsatisfactory rumors brewing regarding her and her father. Among them was a somewhat familiar face, a knight who accompanied her often enough to the point where it was hard for him to go unnoticed.

Dien was his name, though they rarely exchanged any words.Aria relied solely on a mutual understanding between them, they would both focus on fulfilling their respective responsibilitieswithout encumbering the other. It was due to this assumption that their simple arrangement thrived, and Aria found herself much more willing to go on excursions with him over any other knight. These thoughts were never spoken aloud, as she didn’t feel the need to share her trivial thoughts.

As Aria approached the carriage, she allowed Dien to open the door for her as he usually did. She carefully stepped inside, taking a seat on the white velvet seat. The theater was not far at all, though it was unthinkable for the princess to travel anywhere on her own two feet. She had an image to maintain, according to her father. One of a flawless princess who embodied grace and dignity. She’d followed these rules so carefully all her life that they were now second nature.

Though every now and then she acted solely as herself, and those memories were the ones she held most dear. She nodded to the coach through the window, giving him permission to take her to her destination. It was the opening night of a play which was rumored to be the next best theatrical performance in the Kingdom. Multiple well-known actors were taking part, so she was happy to accept her invitation to the first showing.

 

[tiski]

Dien reacted before the gates creaked.

Clad in a soft gown with subtle, elegant embroidery, the Princess approached the caravan with measured steps. Her expression was unreadable, but her chin was high, as a royal's usually was. The gold headband glowed in the sunlight, and Dien allowed one quick glance at the long swell of her hair before he tugged the handle of the carriage with a click. The door was wide open before she was close enough to hear it, and as custom required, the knight bowed his head at her arrival.

But beneath the knightly poise, was a man whose veins seethed. No matter what he'd seen in her before the war, the whispers of her unsavory involvement in the war were too loud to ignore. He heard it in the taverns while the music played too loud, or in the alleys when the night fell too silent--even in the shadowed corners of the castle corridors, though rarely. The Darakians whispered the most. But that was only because the Rhykans didn't have to speak. They already knew. And at this point, most of them had seen it first-hand.

Dien, however, could only wait. He had to stay among the traitors that spilled blood over his homeland, and gather his forces here in silence. He'd been patient. Rock-solid. And while he collected intel from the echoes in castle halls, the Rhykan rebellion grew larger and thicker over the city streets.

The ride to the theater wasn't longer than a musical act. Near the theater, a crowd had formed in-before being let in. When the royal escort trotted down the road, the crowd scattered, opening a path for them to pass through.

Dien rode on the left flank, hands flexing slightly in his gloves. He scanned the crowd for signs of hostility, one hand on the reins, the other on the hilt of his sword. It would've been a real shame if something happened now, when the siege was a sunset away.

The cavalry soon came to a stop, and after a sweep of the area, Dien opened the carriage door once more. He gestured steadily with his arm toward the entrance. His voice was full, and only as loud as needed.

"This way, Your Highness."

He waited for her to begin walking before taking his mandatory spot at her side, half a pace behind. Two guards in front led the way toward the balconies, where nobles often sat. People of rich and revered houses; land owners, performers, high priests, people of the sort. The Princess had arrived at the same time as a couple of them. At the sight of her, they bowed their heads from their stands. Dien didn't pay them any mind. He looked at the shadows in the curtains. The bends in the corridors. Anything that could disturb the peace that needed to be maintained before tonight.

As soon as every important figure had taken their seats or stands, the theater began flooding with commoners. They spilled over the stairs like water, filling nearly every single row. It would be a long outing, but a quiet part of him preferred this over the dull walls of the castle. When it was his, however, things would be different. And until then, he would pretend like nothing needed changing.

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria grew listless during the short carriage ride, allowing her mind to wander where it pleased as she allowed herself the short relief to be away from the judging gaze of others. They arrived shortly after, approaching the theater as her heels clickedmethodically against the pavement underfoot.

She nodded in acknowledgement as she was greeted by other higher-class individuals, offering a polite smile in response rather than words. For some reason she didn’t feel much like speaking, especially after she had overheard something she shouldn’t have the night prior. Just the thought of it made her feel queasy, so a distraction was quite welcome.

The play went on for a handful of hours, and the acting was practically flawless. Aria did well to remain composed in her seat, though only those with a trained eye would notice thesubtle fascination laced in her otherwise trained expression. It was a story of adventure and hardships, resulting in a tragic death of the main characters beloved only to discover the true purpose of their journey. Aria was completely enamored with the story, offering a warm smile and applause at the play’s conclusion.

She was the first to leave the theater, though she found herself dreading her return home. It had seemed even more cold today than any other, especially after seeing such a wonderful story unravel before her. She stopped in front of the carriage, glancingat the knights who’d accompanied her. Perhaps it was due to feeling inspired, but she decided to do something that she would normally never do.

“Coachman, please return to the palace without me. There is a boutique nearby that I would like to visit on my own”.

She glanced to the rest of the knights, knowing fully well she couldn’t travel unguarded. Though the last thing she wanted to do was to shop for dresses, and she needed to choose someone who could keep a secret. Her eyes fell to the obvious choice.

“Dien, if you would please escort me there safely. The rest of you are dismissed”.

She noticed the hesitation from the men, wary of the possible consequences which would befall them if they obeyed her orders. After all if something were to happen to her, they would be the first to blame. Though she wasn’t too worried with such a capable knight at her side, she figured even with the swirling rumors and accusations she could depend on him to protect her.

Slowly the men dismissed themselves, leaving Princess Aria and Dien to their own devices. She began to walk in the direction of a well-known boutique, despite knowing fully well that wasn’t her intention. Instead, she wished to explore the town freely and shop around, inspired by the play to pursue the things that she truly wanted to.

She hummed, offering Dien a glance, “I hope you’re able to keep a secret. Today I’d like to explore the city, under your protection of course”.

She began to lead them away from the theater, slowly relaxing the further they strayed from the eyes of the crowd. Her first stop would be the boutique like she’d mentioned, though she only wanted to buy herself a cloak. That way she could remain hidden and see the sights in peace. This would be much different from her other excursions, as now she had a choice of where she could venture to. Maybe this could be the beginning of a long running rebellious streak, she’s been the perfect Princess for long enough to have earned that at least.

 

[tiski]

Much to Dien's surprise (and satisfaction) the theater visit wasn't more dramatic than expected. His gaze fell over the crowd like clockwork, and apart from the regular ogling eyes, nothing seemed amiss. Perhaps, he pondered, they'd got rid of any resistance.

At the end of the play, the actors bowed not only to the crowd, but also to the royal that'd grazed them with her presence. She seemed... calmer than before. Dien wasn't sure if it was the change in environment or the play itself, but as they breathed the cool afternoon air once more, her motives were about to become abundantly clear.

"The rest of you are dismissed."

Some of the guards shifted on the spot, silence stretching like shadows. She'd just dismissed her cavalry like they weren't there for her sake in a time of war.

Stupid.

"With all due respect, Your Highness... Having the cavalry nearby is recommended."

The guards looked to Dien for other commands, but Aria's decision was already etched in stone. He raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the hill, but underneath his own dismissal, his skin crawled. Today, out of all days, she'd decided to be adventurous and press her luck. And if that turned badly, it was only a matter of time before something else went wrong. He shuddered under his armor.

He bit down and fell into step, guiding her through the shadows along the theater wall.

"I hadn't wished to say this," he said, "but there are far more eyes on the city streets than I can protect you from. I am only one man with one sword."

It wasn't belittling. Just truth. If an arrow came flying, Dien had nothing wide enough to stop it with. Part of him didn't care. Another was afraid that this escapade was a bad omen. The third... The third he buried deep where it belonged.

---

Somewhere in the denser streets of the town, the air smelled of leather and oil. The sharp sound of whetstone against steel echoed in the barracks, where Rhykan rebels polished their weapons and strapped cloaks over their backs. In one of the larger chamber, elites were scattered around an oval table.

Ren threw his feet over the edge. He wore finer leather armor than many of them. An olive cloak covered his padded shoulders and bunched between his back and the backrest. His midnight blue gaze wandered slowly--almost absentmindedly--over a city map splayed over the table. Wooden figurines stood over the wide map, every gate and tunnel marked to make sure nobody made it out. Even the path to the royal tunnel would be blocked. Dien had made sure of that.

One of the rebels came through the wooden door. White, curly hair tossed over his narrow shoulders--Rhykan not only in appearance, but in essence.

"Dien's been spotted in the city," he informed, his accent thick with eagerness. "With the princess. Alone."

A smirk tugged at Ren's face, but he didn't look up. "Around here? Bold."

Silence hung in the room, wants and wishes clinging like spiderweb between the rebels.

"We can kill her," a bitter voice murmured from the shadows.

"And start the siege before the signal? Lost your mind, Loden?"

"No," he hissed. "My home."

"Many of us did," Ren spat. "But Dien wouldn't appreciate it very much if we killed his trophies out of the blue, now would he?"

Another voice, younger: "I don't get why he has to sit the throne, anyway."

"Were you always this dense?" Ren rubbed his forehead. "Now if you can go two minutes without arguing against me, I'll consider not accidentally chopping your heads off in the process."

The commander lifted his glance to the boy at the door. "Watch them. Report what you see."

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria strolled past the theater alongside Dien, offering him a glance as he spoke openly of his worries. It was true that public opinion was against her now… though there would never be a good opportunity for her. She was the crown princess, nothing but a perfect doll in her father’s eyes. Especially now that there were constant discussions regarding her marriage, she wasn’t sure how much time was left before a stranger would be dictating her life next.

She found a small, secluded space between buildings, taking off her intricate headband, as well as the lavish jewelry she’d adorned. She hummed, “Dien, you worry too much. I’m sure you have the capability to protect me, and you likely know the best routes to avoid any unnecessary attention”.

She fluffed her golden hair, dropping the jewels into her small satchel before assuring, “There aren’t many commoners who even know how I look, they’ll simply think I’m a noble who wishes to remain unknown”. She glanced over at a shop down the street, selling cloaks and other accessories. She glanced to Dien, reminding, “We’ll only be a short while. I’ll take a quick peek at the vendors and then we’ll be on our way”.

She let out a sigh, walking towards the vendor and purchasing a cloak for herself and for Dien as well. After all, commoners may not recognize her but they may recognize the royal armor he wore. Luckily the vendor seemed slightly distracted and paid them no mind. She quickly swung the Brown Cloak around her shoulders, securing the tie around her neck and throwing up the hood. This was more than enough to hide the intricate dress she wore, and she couldn’t help but offer a small shadow of a smile in satisfaction.

She looked to the crowd of people further down the street, glancing back to Dien momentarily, as if to reassure herself that he was still with her. Of all the knights she likely relied on him the most, which is why she was able to even suggest such a risky trip. “Have you explored the city very much, Dien? We should still be cautious, so I’ll listen to any advice you have”.

She folded her hands behind her back, already feeling more relaxed now that she wasn’t surrounded by stiff soldiers or staff who worried that one wrong move would lead to exile. That would never be the case, but they acted as though the stakes were that high.

 

[tiski]

Dien's confident poise had loosened at the edges the moment the royal escort vanished beyond the horizon. His eyes moved rapidly, scanning every side and flank, his fingers curled around the hilt of his sword like danger would find them around every corner. Of course he worried. If something happened to her, to him, everything could unravel. The horns would blow, the siege would begin earlier than expected, and whatever became of Dien would be written off as his own fault. Not someone snared by circumstances, no--purely one who risked destroying it all.

Rhykans weren't exactly known for being soft. Though they thrived on being self-sufficient, they could be very loud where it mattered.

But it wasn't the type of loud that resounded across kingdoms, no--it was the kind of loud that simmered beneath the surface. Something that began as a confusing rumble, only to then spring up when least expected and split the earth. What they would do wouldn't only be written in history. It would echo into legends.

"Of course I worry, princess."

He kept his voice lower than hers, as if the echoes of it could disturb sleeping beasts. He didn't have to remind her that she was the future of the crown, or that there were more bounties on her head than there'd ever been. What he said wouldn't change her mind. Especially when he'd already tried once.

So he remained watchful and close, silent unless spoken to. Arched a brow at her choice of style, perhaps, but offered nothing more than a courtly nod in thanks. He swept it over his shoulders but kept the hood down. Even if they were better disguised now, he couldn't be sure. And he wasn't about to press their luck more than they already had.

An instinct to flinch flared as Aria turned to him, and he straightened instinctively. But when she asked him for advice, he allowed himself a moment to think about something else than death traps.

"Had my fair share of ventures," he replied, thinking back to tavern runs with friends or fellows in the guard. There was a bar at the edge of the city center--closer to the slums--where the music was always terrible, but the ale tasted like it'd been filtered through gold. "Cannot say I've visited many... boutiques, but I know my way around well enough to know where you can find them. Jewelry and fine embroidery, the likes of what you already wear."

He scoured the path down toward the town square. But somewhere in the throng of people, he met eyes with someone he recognized. A thin man stared back at him, white, shoulder length hair fluttering over his pale face. Dien froze for a split moment, chest tightening. The one looking at him was one of the runners--younger, eager, and one of the clumsier ones at that.

Great.

Dien continued his watch, breaths slowing, his pose still measured. He was probably sent to watch him. But gods, that boy was a bad omen in boots.

Without indicating that he'd seen anything in particular, Dien moved his gaze back to Aria.

"Would you like me to take you there, Your Highness?"

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Of course, the notion of being in an unfamiliar place with very little security made Aria feel uneasy, though she pushed those fears down, reminding herself of her purpose. If she were to become Queen someday, she didn’t need to just appear dignified and calm. She also needed to instill a strong will within herself, to overcome the countless hardships she was sure to face. This outing would act as a test of sorts, a test of her inner strength. And above all else, a chance to escape her responsibilities, if only momentarily.

Though, there was one other issue they needed to address. Dien was referring to her as princess and your highness, which would be a tell-tale sign of her identity if anyone were to overhear. She pondered momentarily, tapping her chin with her index finger. She agreed, “Yes, I suppose we could stop by places with Jewelry and Embroidery”. Her gaze wandered, to the streets, not noticing the suspicious individual or Dien’s sudden stiffness.

She spoke assuredly, “Yes, please show me to those vendors. I’d also like to see some different ones as well, I’m curious aboutthe variety of goods sold in the town center”

She looked back to Dien, nodding, “As for our identities… refer to me as Lady Krista, from house Remus. I can’t have you referring to me as you usually do, if we want to keep a low profile”.

Her gaze softened, relaxing slightly now that they’d had a good plan in place. Well, one that was good enough, at least. She truly meant it when she said she only wanted to look around for a little bit, surely even Dien and her could manage such a meager trip. Though perhaps there were some more precautionary measures they could take.

“Let’s come up with a safe word. Something we can say in the instance that you or I feel some sort of threat nearby. I wouldn’t want to cause any sort of scene, so it’d be best if we are on the same page”. She shifted her cloak slightly, as though to ensure she could move it around without issues. “How about the theater? If either of us mention the theater, that will be our signal to go home”.

She wasn’t sure if she was being more cautious because she was worried, or if she was suggesting some countermeasures to ease Dien’s mind. After all he still seemed opposed to their outing, but that couldn’t be helped. She took a few steps towards the bustle of people, stating, “Well then, I think we’ve got everything situated. Please, lead the way Dien”.

 

[tiski]

"Lady Krista, from house Remus."

Dien quelled the urge to chuckle out loud. Instead, he offered a courtly nod to all of her demands, though a teeny tiny smirk still tugged at his lips.

"As you wish, my lady."

His stance was still tense as he eased them along the sides of the streets, closer to the shadows. His skin warmed under the extra fabrics, his armor weighing heavier with each step into the crowd. Around them, boots clacked against cobblestone, merchants yelled, and people laughed. The smell of frying meats over fire wafted in the air, mixed with the airy scent of flowers. It was still bright outside. Noon had passed, and the sun cast longer shadows upon the forest city.

Dien posted himself at the wooden door at the jewelry store, and motioned for the princess to walk inside.

And while she did, he allowed himself a glance at the church bell tower.

Tonight, the bells would ring with the echo of a hornet. And at the sixth chime, if the horn still resounded, the rebellion would ensue.

The final retaliation to Darakia's assault.

The blade they'd asked for.

Dien flicked his eyes to the princess as she eyed the golds and silvers and gemstones all splayed out at the merchant's table.

It was very much a shame that Aria didn't realize she stood behind such an insult to his nation. Maybe, if she actually took interest in the literature she read, she would've realized the Rhykans handled political matters differently than fat mouthed kings and ironclad councils. The nation was one of the youngest ones in the realm, raised by men born in ice, and never had big armies like the rest of them. They fought with steel, yes--but they never struck from the front.

And then there was the magic. While Rheyka wasn't closed off to wanderers, they were very peculiar about how magic was used. While other kingdoms allowed it to flow naturally, studied openly, and be used by anyone who carried the strength--or the coin--to wield it, Rheyka seemed to restrict the usage of its physical source. You wouldn't see commoners light fires from seemingly nowhere, or to push heavy objects with the flick of a wrist.

Tensions between the two kingdoms had long been prevalent, but it was with the dispute over the mines that they had really brewed. According to some, the rumors of Rheyka working magic... differently, simmered between the kingdoms long enough for Darakia to finally take action.

It didn't matter the truth. What did matter, was that Darakia had a price to pay.

And that was its nation.

After catching himself slipping into his thoughts, Dien carefully stepped up to Aria and peered over her shoulder. "May I suggest amber, my lady? Or topaz, even. They would both compliment your hues."

It wasn't a real compliment, surely. His nerves itched to be on their way, to get out of this city, and get back between the sturdy walls of the castle. At least there, there were hundreds of men ready to hold the line before them.

And he wouldn’t have to worry about clumsy runner-boys blowing his cover.

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria followed Dien’s lead, curiously examining the various stalls and buildings they passed by as they walked through the streets. The crowd grew livelier, as children ran through the streets and citizens chatted away, spreading the latest news or gossip. Her gaze lingered on the vendor selling wildflowers, once which she’d never seen before in the palace gardens. Before she had much time to think it over, she found that they’d already arrived at the first jewelry shop.

She ducked in, keeping her head down as she perused the multitude of gold and silver adornments, with a gemstone of every shape and color set into some sort of jewelry piece. She nodded along to Dien’s suggestion, offering a glance at the topaz and amber jewels. Though they were too like some of her existing jewelry sadly. She eventually found herself wandering to a simplistic necklace, a small teardrop shaped diamond that was about the size of a peanut, thought its clarity was astounding, shining brilliantly despite its small size.

She picked it up carefully, knowing well that she didn’t have anything as simple and delicate as this one. Though for some reason she found herself resonating with it. Despite the brilliant shine and luster, it was easily overlooked when beside the other gemstones. She quietly purchased it, knowing well she wouldn’t ever really have a chance to wear it. It was far too plain for father’s expectations of her, though it would still be a valuable memento to her. Her first symbol of independence, unassuming yet impactful.

She glanced to Dien who was now at her side, slipping the small necklace into her pocket as she hummed, “Where to next?”

Just as she stepped out of the shop, she heard a small commotion nearby. A runner boy who’d tripped, dropping the messages he was carrying, scattering like leaves on the cobblestone. He winced, nursing his knee which dripped blood. Without a second thought, Aria rushed over, kneeling beside him. “Sir, are you alright? Here, let me help you” She didn’t have anything to clean or disinfect the wound, but she could at least give him something to help stop the bleeding. She pulled out a plain white handkerchief, securing it tightly around his knee.

She met the boys gaze for the first time, offering a warm smile, “Can I help you up?”

The boy grinned, nodding, “Certainly miss, I’d appreciate it”

Without missing a beat, the boy grabbed her arm harshly, gaze burning with hatred as he dug his nails into her skin. She winced, letting out a small gasp as the sudden stinging pain,trying to tear herself away. “L-Let go!” she muttered frantically, not noticing the boys other hand reaching behind him, securing a steady hold on what looked to be the handle of a small dagger.

 

[tiski]

After Dien had offered his humble opinion on jewelry, he found Aria gazing at a simple diamond. His brows lowered slightly, and he backed away to allow her more space.

She always wore accessory enough to feed a district, with gemstones brighter than the sun itself. Seeing her admire the necklace like it held the cosmos in its prongs startled him.

But he said nothing. Just flicked his gaze between her and the door like a good guard would. What she liked and valued wasn't his business.

When she was done and the pair exited the shop, something disturbed the happy bustle of the market.

Before Dien had located the source of the commotion, Aria had darted away from him. His muscles tensed immediately, pupils blooming in her direction. Commotion was never good.

A small crowd was scattering around a young adult who'd fallen. A stack of paper sprawled around him, and he writhed on his back, arms wrapped around an injured knee. He was clearly in pain.

Dien recognized him immediately: Narve.

Before he could do anything about the scene, the princess gasped. Her plea resounded in his ear like an angel's shriek, lighting every soldier instinct in him like sparks on parchment. She was hurting. His muscles tightened like stone, taut in alarm as he rushed over. He kicked down on the guy's stomach, wrenching a deep, guttural sound from his throat.

While Aria escaped, Dien straddled him.

As he landed, thighs pressing against the man's waist with his kneecaps on the arms, he ripped out his sword. Without question or hesitation, he dove straight for the throat, pressing the blade hard enough to draw blood. The man--one of the rebellion runners--writhed under his weight. But as they locked eyes, he bared his teeth in defiance.

As if he didn't care. As if it was all some big joke to him.

Dien muttered, loud enough for the closest people to hear. "You dare."

Something that could've been theatrics had now bled into something much more personal. He continued, words dripping with venom, wrenched from his stomach.

"Perhaps you forgot who you were dealing with? I should have the King deal with you personally, how about that?"

Dien's heart slammed against his ribs, but he quelled the impulse to do more damage than this. There would be no murder here, no--he couldn't undo one of his own and risk delaying the siege by sitting in a justice court.

Instead, he pressed his blade down just a little harder. Let the man suffer long enough to realize that this all was bigger than his stupid, personal vendetta. Way, way bigger.

With a voice low enough so that only them two could hear, Dien hissed between clenched teeth. "Whose side are you on?"

At this point, he didn't care if he blew his and Aria's cover. The fire in his blood roamed far too freely, hotter than a dragon's breath.

The commoners crested around them, too curious to look away, but too scared to intervene. Dien knew it. The way their presence wrapped around every hesitating fiber of his muscles, like all-seeing eyes, scanning for faults. Something stung in him then, raw and real: the betrayal in Narve to do this. This breach of trust wasn't just political. It was personal.

And those never ended well.


It wasn't until the city guard stormed into the scene that Dien allowed his wrist to rest. As he lifted his sword, Narve gasped under him, chest rising high with each shallow breath.

"Relent peacefully!" One in the city guard yelled. Dien loosened the grasp on his sword and slowly crawled off the man. The weapon clattered to the ground before the guards before they had the chance to yell at him to drop it.

"I am Ser Dien, sworn knight to Princess Aria," he said loudly, as he put his hands in the air. "I bear the royal crest. Remove my cloak and you shall see it yourselves."

Narve remained on his back, hands in the air, as the guards started to detain him.

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria was only able to successfully tear herself away from the man after Dien’s interference, only left with scratches on her arm where the man’s nails had dug into it. Her heart raced, taking multiple steps away as she clutched her stinging skin. She watched the rage which emanated from Dien, never seeing anything like it from him before. This had not been the first time he’d saved her, though this is the first time she’d seen him so furious. As though this slight was more than just an ordinary attack, as though it was personal.

She quickly noticed the civilians who slowly began to gather around them, curious to see what had occurred. She supposed that even they enjoyed the presence of a dramatic scene, and Dien was not attempting to hide it in the slightest. Soon enough the city guard stormed forward, and Aria couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. Her careless desire to help someone had endangered her, which would also reflect poorly on the guard and on Dien.

She bit her lip, casting her gaze downwards as she tried to find the best resolution to this quickly growing problem, especially after Dien announced his name and affiliation. Her gaze harshened slightly as she looked to the ground, unsure of the next best action. She watched as the man was being detained, looking away before she was reminded of his bloodthirsty gaze.The last thing she would want to do was to cause a scene and let the nearby civilians become aware of her presence.

She approached the guard with the highest authority whom was present, peeking at him from under her cloak as she commanded only loud enough for them to hear, “I am Princess Aria, look to my family crest for proof”

She pulled out a bracelet with the crest of the royal family, which seemed to be enough validation for the guards. That, and her golden gaze and locks. She hushed, “Ser Dien and I will return to the palace at once. Ensure that man is taken care of, and that rumors of my presence does not spread”.

The soldiers nodded in acknowledgment, immediately forming a wall as they began to reassure the civilians that there was nothing to see and that they were on their way. Aria gave Dien a glance before slipping away. Of course, her father would hear of the incident, which she dreaded. Though what she would dread even more was the needless spread of infectious gossip. This moment assured her that her decision was a mistake, and that she should have continued to play the role of an obedient princess rather than embarking on this small venture.

She snaked her way through the streets, returning from where they came from, not feeling the need to ensure Dien was following. She was certain that he was, and she didn’t have any desire to meet his gaze. Perhaps it was the unease she felt at seeing him be so aggressive, or it could have been that she was too ashamed to admit that he was right. Either way, she simply sought to return home, reminding herself that today provided her with an important lesson. That she could never have the luxury of freedom, and would always remain as trapped as a bird in a cage.

 

[tiski]

Dien kept himself straight and steady, but underneath, his blood boiled.

As Narve was dragged away, the knight wrapped his cloak again, thoughts running wild. He fought the urge to look back at Narve--to face the rage the boy refused to withhold. Though the vendetta was understandable--and no less to someone like Dien--the willingness to risk unraveling everything so openly caused every vein in his body to flare. Had it not been for Aria and their current predicament, he might've dug the blade into worse places. If not to satiate his own anger, then at least to show everyone around that mercy wasn't a commodity.

Aria walked with more urgency now. Her bootsteps were louder, the hem of her cloak and dress fluttering wilder. A bit shaken, probably. The luster in her eyes had been wiped away--that quiet excitement she'd exuded during the little excursion: all gone within a blink.

When the pair left the more crowded parts of town and began moving uphill toward the castle, Dien spoke a little softer. Though he'd itched to ask it, there was no overt worry in his voice. Just concern for someone he was sworn to protect.

"Are you alright?"

Because it didn't really matter. It would all fall into darkness soon, like the sick joke it was.

---

Meydila had paced past a window to the courtyard for the umpteenth time when she saw the princess enter it, flanked by her guard. Silvery eyes squinted at the brown cloaks they wore, and the slight urgency they moved in. It'd been way too long since the royal escort had returned without the royal, and Meydila had been left to wonder whether there had been a sudden change of plans or if something terrible had happened. None of it would've surprised her, but the wait was always worse than the verdict.

It wasn't truly her business. But her heart said otherwise.

With a quiet sigh of relief, the handmaiden moved down the corridors, pulling loose blue strands behind her ears and brushing dirt off her linen skirt.

Just as Aria came around the corner with Dien a few paces behind, Meydila folded her hands in front and bowed her head. She glanced over while fighting back the million questions in her head.

"My lady," she said softly. "Let me take your cloak."

She turned and walked beside her, moving with deliberate grace despite digging her thumbs into the fabrics. "I hope the theater was as good as I hear."

But when the women were somewhere more private, her brows furrowed slightly.

"I worried when the caravan returned without you," she admitted. ”If there's something you wish to talk about, you know where I am."

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria walked in silence towards the castle, many things weighing on her mind with each step. She frowned, pulling out the small diamond pendant from her pocket, holding it gingerly in her palm. She’d endured a few cruel words and near incidents before in her life, though she’d never been close enough to see the bloodlust in their eyes. The deep-seated hatred he had for her was obvious, to the point where she even began to question her own innocence.

She didn’t know very much about the Rhykans, and was refused information anytime she asked. Her father often reassured her that she need not pay any mind to his dealings and that she should only focus on hers, and so she was often shut out whenever any heavy details or topics were being discussed. Though perhaps she should have tried harder to educate herself on these things, after all she would be next in line for the throne. Her father already seemed heavily disliked by many people, surely she would only find herself in a worst position.

She was shaken from her thoughts at the sudden inquiry from Dien, not expecting the soft tone of concern. She slowed down to stand beside him as they walked, offering, “Yes, I’m alright. Just a little… startled.”

Her gaze wandered to her left arm, as she lifted up the sleeve to examine the small amount of blood which had been drawn from the man’s harsh grasp. She admitted, “I’ve never seen such burning hatred in someone’s gaze before” She let go of her sleeve, allowing it to drape down her arm as it had been before. She sighed sadly, “I was foolish to think I could live like a commoner for even a day, I’m sorry for dragging you into this”

She gave Dien an apologetic look, feeling as though she’d forced him to face someone he may have recognized. It was only a hunch, though Dien’s hate-filled gaze in that moment seemed much more extreme than she’d ever witnessed from him before. Even when he’d protected her in the past, he appeared calm and resolved.

She pushed the thought aside, as they both neared the palace walls. She dropped the hood of her cloak, half-heartedly adorning the jewelry she’d taken off after the play. As they entered the palace, soon enough they encountered Aria’s most trusted handmaiden, Meydila. She offered her cloak, smiling softly at her concerned expression.

Once they were in a more secluded area, Aria reassured, “Don’t worry Meydila. I simply got curious and wanted to stop by a few shops” She wondered if she should even bring up the incident, but she didn’t want to worry her handmaiden. At least not now, Aria could treat a few minor scratches on her own.

Her expression relaxed in her presence, as Aria suggested, “Let’s return to my chambers for some tea. I’d like to rest for a while”

Once Aria was in her room, she relaxed her shoulders, not feeling nearly as stiff now than she had before. Aria glanced at Meydila, hesitating slightly before asking softly, “Meydila…what do you know about our dispute with the Ryhkans?”

She glanced away, adding, “I just… I know that people don’t think favorably of Kingdom Darakia now. Father has refused to share any details, but I’d like to know even just a little more about it”.

 

[tiski]

During the walk back, Dien took a deep breath and straightened, letting the last remnants of his anger leave his lungs. The tension rolled off his shoulders, and he refocused on what was ahead, dooming the past to what it was–the past. Soldiers learn to stare death in the face without as much as twitching a muscle, and bury feelings too deep down their spine to reach.

But that didn’t mean they stopped existing. Or stopped simmering.

To Aria, the incident seemed to loom like a shadow long after they’d left the city center. Dien watched her sidelong as she pulled up her sleeves, revealing the small specks of crimson on her arm.

“You’re hurt,” he stated. “Let’s get you back, quicker now.”

He made no effort to console her when she talked about her wishes of freedom, but only kept his focus where it needed to be. There was nothing he could say that would sting less, anyway. She was bound to a life under constant watch, half the time unknowing which motives laid behind people’s eyes.

And if she so wished to live as a commoner… Well, she needed a better disguise than a cloak.

When she looked at him and apologized, he met her gaze with calm assurance. “I am sworn to your side,” he said. “I have no qualms about it.”

---

“Let’s return to my chambers for some tea. I’d like to rest for a while.”

Meydila nodded, lips curling subtly. “Of course, my lady.”

Without hesitation, she slipped off to the nearest kitchen, her gray linen dress swishing around her ankles. She shared a similar pale complexion to Aria, with a light undertone of rose and subtle freckles dotting her thick cheeks. Her ocean blue hair was pulled up in a knot now, but when unraveled, it fluttered just below her collarbones, framing her face with quiet elegance.

Not long later, Meydila entered the princess’s chamber, carrying a piping hot teapot and a couple small, sugary bites on a tray. The afternoon light spilled in through the long windows in soothing, golden shafts. As she moved, the scent of green herbs wafted in her path.

She’d just set the tray down with a little clink when Aria spoke.

“The Rhykans?”

Meydila squinted, lifting the pot with gentle hands. “Well… It is said we were threatened. That Rheyka demanded full authority over the Manacore mines, and sent their forces to guard them.”

When she’d filled Aria’s cup two thirds, she added a little piece of cake to the saucer before offering it. Her voice dropped lower, as if avoiding other ears in the room.

“I know no more than the next servant, but… I’ve heard some things outside the gates. That soldiers are being rallied across the kingdom. They say it’s more violent than the King says. Nobody has yet returned from the mountains, but I suppose we will find out sooner or later if war is truly on the horizon.”

She lowered her gaze momentarily. “I apologize if it worries you, do take my words with a grain of salt. I’m sure His Grace is doing what’s best for the kingdom.”

Then, in a slightly more teasing tone: “I must say, your knight shares quite the resemblance to the men of ice.” One blue brow arched, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Perhaps a little bit on the finer side–wouldn’t you agree, my lady?”

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria deeply admired Meydila’s honesty at her question, answering to the best of her ability based on what she’d heard. She took a seat at the table with the tea, gratefully accepting the full porcelain teacup which she’d been offered. Though the dire situation which Meydila spoke of was completely unexpected. There are now rumors of a war brewing? Her brow furrowed slightly, taking a small sip of the warm liquid in her hands. Why was it that this was all being hidden from her, and to what extent was she going to be left in the dark?

What she did know is that she had been careless to assume she would be informed if circumstances proved worrying. Her father had always assured her that her input was valuable and that he would inform her if anything important was being discussed, though it appears she was left entirely out of this situation intentionally. What exactly was it that her father didn’t want his daughter to hear?

She let out a heavy sigh at the thought, nodding along. “Thank you Meydila. I often feel as though you are the only one in this castle who cares enough to speak honestly with me”

The teacup and it’s small serving plate let out a small clink as they met the wooden surface of the table in front of her, as she brought a hand to her chin in thought. She smiled as Meydila assured her that her father was doing what was best for the kingdom, and even she felt obliged to agree. She offered a warm smile, “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. He must be occupied with finding a solution”.

Her gaze lingered on the amber liquid in front of her, picking it up to take another sip as a comforting silence fell upon her room. That was, until Meydila chose to bring up a certain knight.

She couldn’t hide the subtle blush which crept onto her cheeks at Meydila’s insinuation. She averted her gaze, clearing her throat as she offered, “Yes, I suppose he’s alright. I haven’t quite given him a proper glance”

The lie poured from her lips as smoothly as the tea poured from the kettle, though she was certain that Meydila had been aware of this by now. This was not the first time Dien had come up in conversation, though it was mainly just for the pleasure of entertaining the idea. A strong and protective knight who consistently rushed to her aide, who was much more handsome than the majority of her suitors.

Though shortly after her lie, even Aria couldn’t help but allow her true feelings to slip to her most trusted handmaiden. She let out a subtle sigh, twirling a strand of her golden hair with her index finger. “I have to admit, having a man come to your rescue is certainly charming”

She placed a hand on her cheek, reminiscing, “Even today he showed concern for me, I wish my suitors were half the man that he is”

She realized the sheer weight of her words, face reddening further before she buried it into her palms. She muttered quietly, “I truly am hopeless, aren’t I? Forget I said anything”

She allowed her hands to fall to her lap, taking another sip from her teacup once she’d managed to regain her typical calm composure. It was time for a change of subject. “What about you, Meydila? I’ve noticed that Ser Sebastian has been appointed as one of my guards quite frequently. I’ve noticed his gaze linger whenever you enter a room” She couldn’t hide the shadow of a smirk that adorned her lips, watching for Meydila’s reaction at her subtle tease.

 

[tiski]

Ren slammed his boots against the wooden floor.

“He did what?!”

Sturdy hands dropped flat atop the oval table, causing a figurine to wobble. The young man before him–Tan, the same curly haired runner as before–dropped his glance.

“And you?" he continued. "You watched?”

Tan's hands instinctively folded behind his back: “I-I didn’t want to blow our cover–”

“What if he’d done more than dig his little claws into her, huh?” Ren’s dark irises smoldered. “That’d be not just his head, but yours too. You get that, right?”

And mine.

“You should’ve put a knife in Narve before he had the chance to do a single thing to that girl, you hear me? Now bugger off before I slaughter you too.”

When Tan's cloak had disappeared beyond the threshold, the commander leaned back in the chair again.

“That's one down…” somebody said.

Ren perked a brow, letting out an unbothered huff.

“He’ll never see the light of day again. If the city guard doesn’t kill him, let him rot.”

---

Meydila watched out the corner of her eye with quiet delight as the princess fought against the feeling of being cornered. Her words tumbled from her tongue in a wild cascade, unable to contain the reddish hues blooming across her cheeks. But it was such things that made her seem like more than just a royal. More like her own person, rather than a brain wrapped in golden silk.

"Forgive me," she eventually filled in. "I didn't mean to catch you this much off guard."

She placed a palm over her chest in part apology, part jest. But when Aria clapped back, her eyes widened.

"Me?" She blurted. "With a knight? Unheard of."

She crossed her arms in defiance, already reeling at the thought of being close quarters with Ser Sebastian. She had met his gaze a few too many times... though that was only because she had looked. It was all but appropriate, but that thought alone almost undid her right there. "Way to change subject," she muttered, tilting her chin up. But her mask was cracking at the edges, and she knew it.

"Very well. I wouldn't mind a man with hands like Ser Sebastian to protect my backside."

Just as her voice rang out, there was a firm knock at the door. Her shoulders stiffened, expression freezing tight, as if someone had heard her.

"Your Highness?"

Dien's voice echoed, slightly muffled, from the other side. "The King has summoned you to council."

In the corridor, the scribe tapped his foot on the floor as they waited for the princess to emerge from her quarters. His shifting along with the slight glaze over his eyes told Dien that the summon might not be very pleasant.

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria let out a small laugh at Meydila’s words, relieved to have such a light-hearted conversation with someone she considered a dear friend. Though the pleasant atmosphere quickly dissipated at the sound of a knock, causing Meydila to stiffen, as though someone had heard her. Though once Aria heard Dien’s voice as well as the reason for his visit, she was the one who grew uneasy.

She offered a glance to Meydila, sighing, “I suppose we’ll have to continue this conversation later, I can’t make father wait”

She stood up, taking a quick glance in the mirror to perfect her hair and appearance, shifting her jewelry to lay correctly and small things which would go unnoticed by many. She returned to her typical composed stature, dawning a calm expression as she stepped out of her room, meeting Dien and the nervous scribe in the corridor.

She didn’t offer either of them a word as they made their way to the King’s office, not offering a glance to Dien in fear of recalling the conversation she’d just had with Meydila moments earlier. Soon enough, they were at her father’s door. The scribe, fidgeting slightly, called out through the closed door, “Your Highness, Princess Aria and Ser Dien have arrived”

A gruff voice was heard from the other side, “You may enter” Aria felt her chest tighten, just from his short reply she could sense his anger.

Upon entering the room, Aria bowed into a deep curtsy. “Greetings, your Highness” she lifted her head to meet his steelygaze, the brown orbs feeling much colder than usual. His blonde hair was short but well kept, and what facial hair he had was maintained well. It had been a long time since she’d seen her father this way, though she understood this would likely be the price she’d have to pay for her actions.

King Serval sat in his chair at his desk, fingers thrumming against the desk in impatience. “Aria, explain to me what it is happened today. I hear that you dismissed most of your guard, and caused a commotion in town”

Aria looked to her father’s hands, answering calmly, “Yes, that’s correct Father. I wanted to go to a boutique in town, and thought I could do so without my caravan as escort”

The King stood up from his desk, stepping out from behind itand standing a few yards in front of them. She continued, “I was foolish to think that way. I apologize, Father”

The King walked up to Aria, and with one swift motion he smacked her cheek, eyes narrowing in disdain. Aria let out a small breath at the impact, clutching her stinging cheek as her eyes widened in surprise. He had struck her hard, though not enough to leave a tangible mark or bruise. Regardless, Aria was shocked silent, not expecting her father’s strike.

King Serval turned his cruel gaze to Dien, raising his voice as he commanded, “As for you… are you a fool? You are under my command to protect Princess Aria. Her orders should never overrule those of the King”

He clenched his fist at his side, eyes narrowing as he spat, “Allow her caravan to leave her side again, and I shall have you all suffer the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

 

[tiski]

Dien walked a diagonal step behind Aria, one hand resting loosely over the hilt of his sword. Subtly, he watched her body language switching between hesitancy and stress like a candle’s flicker. King Serval’s summons usually brought more trouble than good–with a complete lack of fatherly intention. Dien had seen more than once how his temper flared when he thought she’d stepped out of line.

She couldn’t be blamed for being afraid, though she tried her very hardest not to show it regardless.

As they entered the room, the king stood up from his desk looking like he’d never been happy a day in his life.

“Your Grace,” Dien greeted, folding his hands behind his back. He kept his chin down and his eyes on the floor, as custom required, but he could still see their guises in his periphery. The air felt thick, and the king’s steps vibrated through the floor, pulsing with venom.

“I apologize, father.”

Smack.

The sound tore through the air like a blade. Aria jolted and lifted her hands to her cheek.

Dien didn't flinch. He only waited.

“Are you a fool?”

When addressed, though with mockery, he took a step forward in silence.

It wasn’t a question to be answered.

The king reminded the knight of his standing in court, and barked his threat as if it’d make a man want to heed to them. But Dien remained silent. The king’s words were law. No matter the inconsistencies, no matter if the story changed–it was usually better to keep the head down than to face a ruler’s wrath.

Especially now.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Dien lifted his gaze.

“Perfectly clear, Your Grace.”

His obsidian-like gaze bore over the two like he was considering more than scolding. None of them spoke, but beneath the silence, Dien’s flame roared. It wasn’t just the insult to him, no, it was the sheer disregard of anything that didn’t fit into his box. But the knight didn’t linger, he rarely did. Just waited for the ordeal to be over, and for time to spin into favor.

And when it did, the king would feel something else than just rage.

Serval stood still at first, as if testing the weight of his own words. Then, he flicked his glance toward the door.

“Be on your way,” he commanded, voice deep and cutting. “Return to your duties.”

---

A reheated teapot with pale blue patterns, hung from Meydila’s grasp. She was walking toward Aria’s chamber, and wasn't away from the door when footfalls echoed through the hall. She stopped and snapped her head back, her skirt rolling around her ankles. She’d already been concerned when they left, but seeing Aria return with her cheek beaming red confirmed her worst fear.

Meydila rushed to her side.

“Gods,” she breathed, “Let’s get you back to your chambers.”

When the princess had slipped into her room, Meydila frowned Dien’s way before closing it after them.

She immediately set the teapot down and ran around to dip a cloth in cold water. Her voice was breathy, her tone pitched in confusion. “Why?” she asked. “What happened?”

Her own face had caught color, skin softly pulsing with warmth under the fabrics of her dress. It was hard not to care–especially not after all these years. The King’s rage wasn’t unexpected, but that didn’t mean it hurt less any when it flared.

Meydila slowed her movements as she neared Aria with the cloth. She offered it cautiously, and if the princess allowed, she would hold it against her cheek herself.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I can just be here.” She gave the tea set a quick glance. “The tea is fresh, if you’d like some.”

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria did not look at her father again, standing with her head lowered, hands folded in front of her. Had he, always been this cruel? Did she truly do something so wrong to deserve such harsh backlash? She wasn’t sure if her Father had heard about putting herself in danger, and had made sure to remit that from her version of events as well. She gave Dien a small glance, regretful that he had to face her father’s wrath for her actions.

Once King Serval excused them, Aria walked out quietly, thoughts wandering with each step. The click of her heels on the marbled floors echoed through the short hallway they walked,hair flowing behind her in a cascade of gold. There was something her father was not telling her, and it seemed she’d grown complacent these past few years. She believed that if she followed her father’s rules he would begin to treat her with dignity and respect. Though it seems his trust would be much harder to earn.

She let out a silent sigh, hearing a familiar gasp mere moments after outside of her chambers. She met Meydila’s concerned gaze, grateful for the comforting presence as she rushed to her side. Aria’s shoulders relaxed, allowing Meydila to coax her into her room. It felt wrong to part ways with Dien without offering an apology, though she didn’t have the right words. She would be sure to apologize tomorrow at the start of his shift. That would give her some more time to think things over.

Once the door to her chambers closed behind her, she reassured Meydila, “It’s alright, it’s not as bad as it looks, I’m sure”

Though, even Aria couldn’t deny the harsh sting that still lingered on her cheek, and the swelling that quickly followed. She took a seat next to the tea, allowing Meydila’s caring touch to hold the cold cloth to her cheek. She sighed, admitting, “Well… it seems father found out about my small excursion. And perhaps the situation that occurred in town today”

She met Meydila’s curious gaze, knowing that she at least owed her an explanation. If anyone cared for her in this castle, it was her. “You see, I was recognized and a man tried to attack me. Dien quickly put a stop to it… but father was livid with me for taking such a risk”

She averted her gaze, mumbling more so to herself than anyone else, “He’s right to scold me, but even I didn’t expect him to lash out”

She glanced back to Meydila, placing a hand over hers as she smiled, “Thank you for being by my side Meydila. It’s getting late in the day, so I think I’d like to look over some documents and get some rest”

She took a hold of the cold cloth on her cheek, allowing Meydila to dismiss herself and leave her to her own devices. Aria watched as she left, before looking to the bookshelf in her room. She stood, gathering a handful of political texts which she hoped would offer some more information on the dispute. Even an up to date map would be useful, she wanted to see for herself where the manacore mines were and why they were such a valuable resource.

She would spend the majority of her evening pouring over these texts, looking for any information which would give her a better understanding of where the Kingdom currently stood with the Rhykans.

 

[tiski]

Nightfall brought silence and flickering lanterns, and a moon too dull to enjoy. While the tired guards yawned and the taverns roared, the boots of the rebellion slithered through the shadows.

Dien stood atop a roof, leaning over a ledge overseeing the city from the outskirts. The hem of his olive cloak fluttered in the crisp winds, a chill grazing against his face and neck. At his side stood Ren–fully geared, with a large horn in his right hand. He looked in the same direction, the wind tugging lightly at his hair.

But nothing could cool the heat that thrummed over the streets now.

“It's time,” Ren murmured, watching the church bell gleam under the moonlight. Dien blinked over and eyed the movement at the tower with calm delight.

“And it couldn't have come sooner.”

Then, the church bell dinged. Ren inhaled deeply, and put his lips to the horn.

Hrroooooooooooooooooooooom.

The thick sound reverberated through walls and districts. People down below lifted their heads in curiosity. But with each repetition, more and more of them started rushing. They could feel it in their bones, could’t they? That icy wind that blew through your veins, the stone in your gut when you knew something was wrong.

Dien watched the common folk retreat into their buildings like frightened rabbits. The city guard would find them here soon enough. But by the time they reached this roof, it’d be too late. The rebels had braced, gripping their blades, awaiting the sixth and final signal.

The last chime of the church bell rang out. The entire city held its breath.

Ren’s horn didn’t stop.

Suddenly, the shadows sprang to life. Rhykan rebels jumped from their hiding spots, faces masked and weapons unsheathed. The night was quickly spurred into chaos.

The rebels flooded from the outskirts in controlled bursts, seizing gates before the city guard could fend them off. Steel shrieked against steel. Screams were cut short. Groups of people scattered only to regroup a moment later, moving like coiled serpents against the plated forces of Darakia.

---

War horns ensued, booming over the city, breaking past every door and wall in alarm. At the castle, the chamber guards sprung into action. Sebastian–posted at Aria’s door–turned and burst into her chambers.

“Princess,” he barked. “You must go to the tunnels immediately.”

He led her with one hand at her back down towards the tunnels. An escape route that only royals and their most trusted knights knew about. But even the castle had its traitors. Before they’d made it far, commotion was already too loud to miss. The tunnels were compromised, and by noise alone, he knew that the point was being defended with brutal efficiency.

Nobody was going to make it out of the castle.

As Sebastian turned at the stairs, a stray person came running towards them, breath shallow and quick. “They’ve surrounded the castle,” he breathed, “Took half our men. The battle has reached the courtyard.”

“Where is it safe?”

“The King is in the throne room.”

Another breath. Without hesitation, Sebastian pushed Aria back down the stairs. “Throne room,” he ordered, “Now!”

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

The pages scattered on her desk were covered in ink, words written in Aria’s handwriting, filled with varying details of interest. She flipped from one to the next, taking in all important accounts and historic literature regarding the Rhykans, though she was reaching a dead end. She didn’t have access to everything in the library, and so even her knowledge was limitedto just a few things. She leaned her chin against her palm, letting out a disappointed sigh as she slowly closed her eyes, allowing them some momentary rest. Though, what felt like only moments later, she was startled awake by the blaring of horns signaling that the worst had come. As much as she hoped it was a false alarm, a lingering feeling in her gut knew that wasn’t possible.

At Sebastian’s frantic voice, she jumped to her feet to follow him to safety. After all, the guards had managed to protect her all this time, surely they could do so this time as well? She hurried down the corridor, following Sebastian as they began to snake their way throughout the vast palace, aiming to escape before anything worse could become of them. She frantically chased after him, though in doing so the sounds of bloodshedonly grew nearer. They grew closer to the tunnels only to find that their sole escape route was now a hopeless endeavor.

The distant clanging of metal and the stench of blood on the panicked soldier quickly brought her to the reality of the situation. The castle had been surrounded in what felt like mere moments, and any hope of survival was now completely gone. They were mere birds in a cage, and they had no hope of flying out. Aria gritted her teeth, flying back down the stairs at Sebastian’s advice, footsteps growing more urgent down the marbled halls towards her father.

Dozens of thoughts raced through her mind, though there was one thing she was almost certain of. Her death was all but guaranteed, it seemed even the soldiers were aware. Sebastian’s expression had become much more grim, though no one dared to speak the truth aloud. Soon enough Aria burst through the heavy doors which led to throne room, relieved to see her father alive and well. She rushed to his side, clutching his arm as though it were her anchor in a raging storm. “Father”, she gasped with labored breaths, golden gaze filled with concern and doubt.

The King’s brow furrowed at the sight of his daughter, though he couldn’t hide the remorse which lingered in his brown hues. He placed a firm hand over his daughter’s, assuring in a gruff tone, “Don’t forget what I’ve taught you. Strength and dignity are our strongest attributes, do not cower to these brutes. Showing weakness will only ensure our swift deaths”

Aria nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she stood beside her father, knowing well that Sebastian among other guards were stationed outside the room to protect them. Theclanging of metal grew nearer with every passing second, Aria’s grip on her father’s arm tightening with each distant cry of pain. She straightened, gritting her teeth as she watched the door steadily, steeling herself for whatever it was that would soon force their way in.

The thunderous sounds of battle eventually grew silent, and along with it was any hope that had remained. The doors opened to reveal an entourage of soldiers, covered in blood, clad in foreign armor. And leading them, was none other than Dien himself. Aria’s eyes widened, and for a brief moment she hoped that her savior had come to her aide once again. Though she was not naïve enough to ignore the stench of blood and longing for revenge which emanated from him.

Her eyes narrowed in disdain, looking to the flecks of blood which dotted the steel in his grasp. The King and Aria stepped further back, growing closer to the throne as they searched for any sign of survivors amongst the men stationed outside.Though even they knew the search was hopeless. Dien’s voice was low, filling the room which had now grown silent. She looked to her father as he contemplating his choices, and the deal that Dien had offered him. Hand over the crown, and his family would survive this massacre. With a quick motion, knights tore Aria away from her fathers side, securing her armsbehind her back as a sharp blade pressed against her throat.

Her breaths shallowed, watching her father through his hesitation. As much as she feared death, she found herself fearing her father’s more. Her gaze watched carefully as the King’s hands rose to lift the crown from his head, sending it clattering to the ground at Dien’s feet. The Rhykans had won, and what little power King Serval and Princess Aria had now laid on tiled marble.

 

[tiski]

The city was reeling.

The rebels skittered over pebble and grass, quick and agile. The city guard had way more men, and controlled fight. But they weren't prepared this time. Not like the Rhykans were.

Dien's team moved around the East walls of the town, aiming for one of the smaller castle entrances. There, they could flank any remaining guards, while the rest of them were pinned at the big gates at the front. Their shadows fluttered over the limestone walls, lights spilling in all directions from random oil lanterns and torches. As they began nearing castle grounds, one bigger group of guards got in their way. Dien's face twisted into a scowl at the sheer amount of them. They approached in formation, swords raised, muscles coiled.

Dien met the first one with a sharp clang. The royal crest on his sword glinted in the lowlight, and before long, the guard had crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled under his waist.

The next slipped from another rebel's clutches and came from the side. Dien pivoted and hopped back, then delivered a strike that cut straight through the guy's wrist. In the next moment, he too slumped over.

Two men of the crown defeated by the sword once used to protect the princess.

How ironic.

---

The fight stretched on, blood spilling onto the streets, shouts echoing through the haze of battle. Some fought until the very end. Some hesitated.

The clever ones gave up.

In the throne room, Dien stared at the crown that the king had tossed at his feet like discarded junk.

"That's not very polite of you," he said, his icy gaze lifting to Serval. "I suggest you pick it up."

The man scoffed. "You do not deserve my kindness."

"And you don't deserve mine."

The rebel leader pulled his sword, pointing it straight at the old king, forcing him to backward to the throne. When he fell down on the seat, Dien urged to blade even further, the tip pressing through clothing, just enough to break skin.

Serval winced.

"I should kill you right here," Dien mused, one grayish brow raising. His sword hand moved. A groan of pain left the king's lips.

And damn, did it feel good to return the pain. Thrilling, even--like standing on top of a mountain.

"You said you'd spare us."

Serval looked like he was one step away from breaking. Dien tilted his head. How pitiful that a little sting to the stomach nearly undid him.

He pulled the sword back, storing it in its sheath. "No," he replied simply. "I said your family would live."

Then, he stepped forward. His shadow towered over Serval now, like a silhouette against the backlight. Maybe he would let him rot. Nail him to the throne without food or water, and let him feel what it was like to be humiliated. To have dignity stolen away.

He leaned in, his voice dropping between them. Steady. Dripping with venom. "You could rot for all I care."

Then, he slapped him.

The smacking sound almost reverberated through the room, gloved hand against cheek. The king fell silent, frozen, but his gaze still burned with hatred. If it was the action itself, or what it represented, Dien neither knew nor cared. He backed away, picked up the crown, and placed it on his own head.

"Take him away," he sighed, crossing his arms. "I have a city to take care of."

His focus landed on Aria, and he made a hand motion to his guards, who instantly released their harsh grasp on her. The sword lowered from her throat.

He saw the cut before anything else.

A tiny red line. Just a scratch.

But it wasn't supposed to be there.

His jaw tightened. Before it got worse, he drew a breath and tore his eyes away.

When the king had been escorted out of the throne room--lead down to his own prison gutter--he began pacing slowly, his voice measured and calm.

"If this thing means so little that he would throw it to the floor," he said, adjusting the golden crown. "Then why does it bother him that it's on my head?"

 

[The_Blooming_Sky]

Aria watched the exchange between her father and Dien with bated breath, throat still pressed against the blade which thirsted for her blood. As though cued by her own thoughts, the grip on her harshened slightly, fingers pressed firmly against her arms with a strength much greater than her own. Her eyes widened as Dien brought his blade to her father, forcing him to peddle back to with his back to the very throne which once symbolized power and respect.

She’d never seen her father so weak and helpless, nor had she ever seen Dien speak so cruelly. She watched as her father was taken away, and opened her mouth in an attempt to speak only to feel the cold steel press more firmly against her throat. A line of red marked her porcelain skin, stinging harshly, bringing her to the harsh realization that this would be her new reality. She would soon be nothing but a corpse, or a prisoner of war at best.

At Dien’s order the guards released their harsh grasp, not taking more than a moment to pry herself from their grip. But why had she not been dragged away, alongside her father? Did Dien have other plans for her? She was sure he desired revenge from the woman who’d ordered him around all this time. She gingerly pressed her fingers against the small wound on her neck, eyes narrowing in disdain as he placed the crown on his head and spoke harshly of her Father.

She scanned the room for anything she could use to aid in an escape, though even she wasn’t naïve enough to believe she could do so on her own. The real question was why she remained here and was not herded to the dungeon alongside her father. Surely he had no reason to spare her, even if he assured her father he would. Lying was certainly something he was familiar with by now.

She muttered harshly, “Whether you wear a crown or not, you’ll be no King of mine”

She stared at the door which had shut behind her father, knitting her brow with a frown at the thought of harm coming to him. Was he really destined to die? Well, it now seemed like it would be more of a miracle if he survived, given how quickly their circumstances had grown dire.

She turned her gaze to Dien, clenching a fist at her side as she scoffed, “What do you intend to do now, kill everyone who defies you? Some King you plan to be, choosing the path of cowardice to infiltrate the palace from within”

She continued to nurse the small cut with her hand, though she couldn’t hide do much to keep her fingertips from trembling. The last thing she wanted to show was fear, though she could only be so brave staring death in the face. She gritted her teeth, regretting her remorseful apology she’d made to him earlier that day. The man she’d trusted so much had transformed into a monster overnight, right before her very eyes.