Broken heart of a warrior

Chapter 18

The numbness was already beginning to dissolve, replaced by a sharp pulse of adrenaline rushing through my veins. It spread through me like fire breaking through ice, forcing every sense awake again. Each turn in the road cut deeper into the hollow feeling that had settled in me after seeing him, as if the world itself refused to stay still long enough for grief to take hold. Something larger was unfolding, something calculated, and every instinct I had was screaming the same thing. We were being played.

This baby can go, I thought as I tightened my grip on the wheel, letting the car obey every violent command I gave it. I drifted through corners at impossible speed, the tires screaming in protest as the scent of burnt rubber clung heavily inside the cabin, mixing with leather and heat. The road wound upward toward the palace like a final warning I chose to ignore. Members of the royal court scattered the moment they saw me coming, throwing themselves aside in chaotic panic like startled birds losing formation in a storm.

As the palace gates loomed closer I reached over and yanked the emergency brake with practiced force. The wheels locked, the world tilted, and for a brief breathless second everything felt like it suspended itself in time. Then the tires caught again just enough for me to swing the car into a controlled, brutal stop directly in front of the palace steps.

The guards were already on high alert after Axel's return, their posture stiff with forced discipline and lingering fear, yet none of them dared step in my path. I barely slowed as I stepped out, as if the air itself belonged to me more than it belonged to them. These fools would likely crumble in the face of anything unfamiliar, running straight into the comfort of their own excuses while pretending it was strategy. Palace security had always been more performance than protection.

If I survived all of this, I thought briefly, one of these machines would be mine. A proper one. Not one of these polished court toys that only existed to impress. I let my hand rest on the hood for a moment and leaned in slightly as if the car could hear me.

"Bye baby," I murmured with a faint trace of something almost like affection. "Sorry you have to go back to your daddy now."

A ripple of shocked gasps spread through the courtyard. I did not need to look twice to know what I looked like to them. A figure soaked in blood, clothing torn and hanging unevenly, expression carved into something colder than winter water beneath a frozen lake. Still, I turned my head slowly anyway and watched fear settle across every face like a silent verdict.

Then I felt it. Movement behind me.

I did not flinch, only shifted my gaze as a young man appeared at the edge of my awareness. He could not have been more than late teens, dressed in servant's clothing that looked too large for his frame, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as if even looking up might be a mistake he could not afford.

"My lady," he said softly, his voice careful in the way only servants trained in survival ever managed to be.

I stopped just long enough to acknowledge him, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing against my ribs with every breath I took. The pain was there, dull but persistent, like a reminder that my body had not yet forgiven the night.

"Find out who this car belongs to and return it," I instructed without raising my voice, keeping it steady and controlled as if nothing in me was close to breaking.

The young man hesitated. His gaze flickered from the vehicle to me and back again, confusion settling openly across his face as though the request itself did not belong in the world he understood.

"I do not understand, my lady," he admitted quietly.

I let out a sharp exhale, feeling my ribs protest the motion, and forced myself to slow down rather than let irritation take over. There was no time for patience but I still gave him clarity.