Chapter 13 - Shadows Before Dawn
That night, the royal armory was quiet save for the rhythmic clink of a sharpening stone against steel.
Valeria stood alone in the dim light of a single oil lamp, examining a slender, double-edged broadsword that had belonged to her father. The metal was cool, perfectly balanced, and stained with the faint, indelible memories of a past she was forced to reclaim.
"You shouldn't fight him yourself," a familiar, raspy voice broke the silence.
Captain Marcus stepped out from the shadowed archway, holding a leather harness. His face was etched with deep lines of worry. "Caelen is a beast of the northern battlefields. He has carved his way through a hundred duels. Let me take your place in the arena."
"No, Marcus," Valeria said softly, lowering the sword and turning to face him. Her sapphire eyes shone with quiet determination. "If I send another man to fight my battles on my very first week as queen, what message does that send to the realm? That I am weak? That I hide behind the shields of loyal soldiers just like Valerius did?"
"It’s not weakness to be smart," Marcus argued, taking a step closer. "The court is watching you. Every noble who sided with us out of fear is waiting for you to stumble."
"Let them watch," Valeria replied, her voice hardening. "The crown chose me because the bloodline runs true, but the throne will belong to me because I earned it with my own hands. I survived twenty years in the dirt, Marcus. A northern brute with a sword is nothing compared to what I've already walked through."
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Marcus looked at her for a long, silent moment, recognizing the unyielding spirit of King Alistair mirrored in her face. Slowly, a proud, respectful smile touched the corners of his scarred lips.
"Then let us make sure that northern brute regrets the day he crossed the queen," Marcus said, handing her the leather harness.
