Chapter 7 - The Shadow of the Eastern Host
While Rowan, Marcus, and the fiery beast crossed the treacherous jagged peaks of the Dragon’s Spine, Blackwinter Court was plunged into a desperate crisis.
Lord Cedric’s second-in-command, General Vane, had arrived outside the outer walls with an army of three thousand heavy cavalry and siege engines. The banners of the eastern coalition fluttered darkly in the freezing wind.
Prince Lucian stood atop the high battlements, his iron-plated armor feeling heavier than he had ever imagined. For years, he had believed politics was about sharp words and court alliances. Now, looking down at the sea of steel and siege towers surrounding his home, he realized how deeply Cedric had manipulated him.
“Your Highness!” a breathless scout reported, running up the stone steps. “The eastern vanguard is deploying fire-catapults! They demand your surrender and the immediate execution of the Queen-Regent!”
Lucian turned to face his mother, who had walked up behind him on the ramparts, draped in her heavy winter cloak.
“Mother, I... I didn't think they would actually attack the capital,” Lucian stammered, his arrogance completely stripped away.
“You listened to ambition instead of honor, Lucian,” Helena said, her voice steady and unyielding. “War strips away all our pretenses. But look out there at the horizon.”
May you like
Lucian squinted through the falling snow. Far across the snowy plains, past the enemy siege lines, a bright flash of blue fire pierced the gray clouds. A distant, majestic roar shook the frozen air, silencing the war drums of the eastern host.
“They’re coming back,” Lucian whispered.
