Forged in Flame

The Price of Power

As the court machinations grew more dangerous, Arin quickly learned that the real fight was not just against Seric but against the very foundations of the kingdom. Seric's influence seeped through the nobility, but it was his alliances with darker forces that truly worried her. She could sense the shifting energy around the palace—something dark was stirring, and Seric was undoubtedly pulling the strings.

Arin had spent the last few days navigating the treacherous political landscape, and with each passing day, it became more apparent that brute force alone wouldn't be enough to secure her throne. The kingdom needed more than a warrior—it needed a ruler who could outwit those who sought its downfall.

The breaking point came one evening during a meeting with several nobles. As Arin discussed potential strategies with General Kael, Rethis, and Lyria, a figure dressed in black slipped through the palace halls, unnoticed by the guards. The assassin moved like a shadow, slipping into Arin's chambers where she was expected to retire after the meeting.

But the assassin wasn't alone for long. Thorne, still recovering but back on his feet, had noticed something strange as he patrolled the palace halls. His suspicions were confirmed when he caught a glimpse of the intruder making their way toward Arin's quarters. Without hesitation, he followed, confronting the assassin just as they prepared to strike.

The clash was brutal and quick. Thorne's reflexes, honed from years on the battlefield, served him well as he intercepted the assassin's blade. Steel clashed against steel in a flurry of strikes, but Thorne's sheer strength overwhelmed the attacker. In the end, Thorne stood victorious, the assassin incapacitated and bound.

Arin rushed in moments later, having been alerted by the commotion. She found Thorne standing over the would-be killer, breathing heavily but unharmed. Their eyes met, and for the first time in a long while, there was no distrust, only gratitude.

"You saved my life," Arin said quietly, her voice filled with both relief and shock.

Thorne wiped the sweat from his brow, his usual hardened expression softening. "I was just doing my duty, Princess."

The failed assassination attempt was a stark reminder of how desperate Seric was becoming. His reach was deeper than they had realized, and Arin knew this was only the beginning.

Thorne's bravery that night didn't go unnoticed. His actions had not only saved Arin's life but also earned him the group's trust once more. He had proven his loyalty, redeeming himself for the suspicions and doubts that had plagued him earlier. Even Rethis, who had once been wary of Thorne's motives to judge Lyria and him, began to see him in a different light.

The bond between the group strengthened in the wake of the attack, and Arin knew that she would need every ally by her side in the battles to come—both political and personal.

However, later that evening, as the group regrouped in a secluded corner of the palace, Lyria finally mustered the courage to speak her heart. She pulled Rethis aside, her usual carefree demeanour replaced by a rare seriousness.

As they stood together in the quiet corner of the palace, the flickering torchlight casting warm shadows across the stone walls, Lyria found herself unable to tear her eyes away from Rethis. The intensity of everything around them—the court's political manoeuvring, Seric's plots, the threat of losing everything—had brought them to this delicate moment, where the weight of their unspoken feelings could no longer be ignored.

Rethis, for once, seemed to drop the carefully composed mask he always wore. His shoulders, usually tense from the responsibility he carried, relaxed as he looked at Lyria. There was something unguarded in his gaze, a vulnerability she rarely saw in him. It softened him, made him feel less like the powerful mage who could summon the elements at will, and more like the boy she had grown up hearing about through stories—someone who had worked his way from nothing.