A Heart Divided

Chapter 49

The Last Battle

The capital city loomed in the distance, its towering spires cutting through the darkening sky. The closer they got, the more tense the atmosphere became. The Duke's soldiers were well-positioned around the city, waiting for the rebels to make their move. Eliza had already decided that they would strike fast and decisively. There could be no drawn-out siege—no waiting. If they were going to end this, they needed to do it now.

With Elias's death weighing heavily on her mind, Eliza took up his mantle. She led the charge, her heart beating in time with the drums of war. The rebels had set up a siege perimeter on the outskirts of the capital, preparing for the final assault. The moon was high, casting a pale light over the battlefield, and the only sound that could be heard was the wind and the distant sounds of war horns.

"This is it," Alden said, his voice low as he stood beside Eliza on a ridge overlooking the city. "The Duke is cornered. He won't have a choice but to face us."

"I'll make sure he doesn't get away this time," Eliza replied, her voice hardening with resolve.

The final push began at dawn, as the first rays of sunlight cut across the dark sky. The rebels stormed the city gates, with Eliza leading them through the narrow streets, cutting down any soldier who stood in their way. The Duke's forces, exhausted and demoralized, fought fiercely, but the rebellion's spirit was stronger.

As they reached the Duke's palace, Eliza paused, her sword raised in preparation for what was to come. The palace gates were heavily guarded, but the rebels were relentless. It didn't take long for them to break through.

And then, standing at the top of the palace steps, Eliza saw the Duke.

He was older than she remembered, his once-proud posture now slumped with the weight of his imminent defeat. His eyes were wild with desperation, but there was also something else—fear.

"Eliza," the Duke sneered, his voice shaking with rage. "You think you can take everything from me? This kingdom was mine. It always will be."

Eliza stepped forward, her sword steady in her hand, her heart unwavering. "Not anymore, Father," she said, her voice cold with finality. "Your reign ends today."

The battle inside the palace was swift. The Duke's remaining loyalists fell one by one, and it was clear the rebellion had won. But as Eliza moved through the halls of the palace, a part of her mourned what the kingdom had lost—what she had lost.

Her father was defeated. The crown was hers. But there would be no celebration—not yet.

The real work of rebuilding had only just begun.