A Heart Divided

Chapter 51

The Fall of the Duke

The rebellion had reached the heart of the kingdom. Eliza stood on the frontlines, her armor stained with the mud and blood of battle, her eyes steely with purpose. The Duke's stronghold loomed ahead, its dark stone walls a symbol of all that had been wrong with the kingdom. The final confrontation was upon them.

They had crossed the mountain passes, shattered the Duke's defenses, and fought their way through the capital's gates. Now, only the Duke remained—a man who had once been her father, but was now nothing more than a tyrant desperate to maintain control.

Eliza's thoughts were clear. She couldn't allow him to escape. This would be the end.

"Are you ready?" Alden asked, his voice low but steady beside her.

Eliza met his gaze, and for a brief moment, the weight of everything they had fought for settled over her. The loss of Elias, the sacrifices of their comrades, the brutal battles—they had led her here, to this moment. "We finish this today," she said, her voice unshaken.

The rebels surged forward, storming the Duke's palace. They fought with the strength of those who knew the price of freedom, and they made their way swiftly through the grand hallways. As they neared the throne room, Eliza could feel the tension in the air. The Duke was waiting.

The throne room doors burst open, and there, at the far end of the room, stood the Duke—older, desperate, his once-proud posture now hunched and weakened. His eyes locked onto Eliza, a flash of recognition and rage flickering across his face.

"Eliza!" he roared. "You think you can take my throne? This kingdom is mine, and mine alone!"

The words stung, but Eliza held her ground. She had once been his daughter, but that was before his tyranny had robbed her of everything she held dear. She stepped forward, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"No, Father," she said quietly, the word tasting foreign on her lips. "It never was yours. This kingdom belongs to its people."

The Duke's face twisted in fury. "Then die like the traitor you are!"

He lunged toward her, drawing his sword with a speed borne of desperation. But Eliza was faster. She met his strike with her own, the clang of metal against metal ringing out in the vast hall.

For a moment, they fought like two people who knew each other's every move, but with every parry and counter, Eliza felt the distance between them grow. The man she had once called father was no longer the person he had been. His greed had corrupted him. He was a tyrant—and today, he would pay for it.

With one final, powerful strike, Eliza disarmed the Duke, sending his sword clattering to the floor. He fell to his knees, breathing heavily, the weight of his defeat sinking in.

"Eliza..." he gasped, the anger in his voice fading, replaced by something darker—fear. "You've made a grave mistake..."

"No," Eliza replied, her voice firm. "You made it when you betrayed your people."

With that, she motioned for her guards. The Duke was shackled and led away to face the justice he had long denied others. His reign was over.