Jordan slumped against the base of a tree, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Blood seeped through the torn fabric of his clothes, staining them dark. His arms hung limply at his sides, the weight of exhaustion and pain pressing down on him like a heavy shroud.
The forest was eerily quiet now, the battle having scared off any nearby creatures. He tilted his head back against the rough bark, closing his eyes briefly to gather his strength. Each breath felt like fire in his lungs, but he refused to let the pain consume him.
He glanced down at his knife, now slick with blood, and clenched it tightly. "I need to move," he muttered to himself, though his body seemed unwilling to listen.
Jordan fought through the searing pain as he pushed himself upright, his legs trembling beneath him. He cursed under his breath, realizing he'd left the health crystal back at camp—a foolish mistake that now gnawed at him. It would have been invaluable right now, but regret wouldn't help him survive.
Stumbling forward, he began walking in the direction he'd come, clutching his side where the blood had soaked through his shirt. Each step was agony, but he pressed on, determined to make it back.
As he passed the lifeless bodies of the wolves, he stopped in his tracks. His gaze lingered on the fallen creatures, hesitation flickering in his eyes. A part of him wanted to keep moving, to leave them behind and focus on survival. But another thought took hold.
"What's the point of almost dying," he muttered to himself, "if I leave empty-handed?"
Grinding his teeth against the pain, he knelt down beside one of the wolves, ready to harvest what he could.
It took some effort and time, but Jordan finally extracted the first wolf's core. He held it up briefly, examining the smooth, glowing sphere. With a small sigh of relief, he tested it against his knife—and to his fortune, it fit perfectly. The blade pulsed softly as if acknowledging its new power.
Pocketing the other wolf's core for later, Jordan turned to the second body. Despite his trembling hands and the throbbing pain radiating through his torso, he repeated the process, successfully retrieving another core.
His breaths were ragged, his energy nearly spent. He quickly glanced around the area, the forest unnervingly quiet now. The dire wolves had been a brutal challenge—he knew in his current state, another encounter would likely be his last.
Without wasting another second, Jordan limped away from the clearing, his eyes scanning for any signs of danger. His goal was simple now: get back to camp alive.
...
Elysia sat in front of her father's bed, her trembling hands clasped tightly in her lap. The room was dimly lit, the flickering glow of a single lantern casting shadows across the Duke's pale, unmoving face. His breaths came slow and shallow, each one a fragile reminder that he was still alive—for now.
The healers had done all they could. The wound from the assassin's blade had been deep, dangerously close to his heart, and though the bleeding had been stopped, the fever had taken hold. Elysia's heart clenched as she reached out, brushing a lock of graying hair from his sweat-drenched forehead. This was the man who had been a pillar of strength in her life, the one who had taught her duty, honor, and compassion. Now he lay powerless, and for the first time, she realized just how fragile even the strongest pillars could be.
The door creaked open, and Sir Cedric stepped inside, his face lined with exhaustion and worry. He bowed his head slightly before speaking. "My Lady, the council meeting has begun. They are waiting for you."
Elysia didn't look up. "Do they not understand that my place is here?" she whispered, her voice tight with anger and grief.
"My Lady," Cedric said softly, "the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos. The assassination attempt has already emboldened enemies within the court. If you do not go, they will take it as a sign of weakness—not just from you, but from House Greystone. You must show them that your family still stands strong."
Her stomach churned. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her like an iron chain. She had always known that as the daughter of a Duke, her life would be filled with expectations. But this? This was something she had never prepared for.
Taking a deep breath, she stood, smoothing the creases in her gown. "Very well. But I will return as soon as I can. If anything changes—"
"I will send word immediately," Cedric assured her.
Elysia turned toward the door, but before stepping out, she cast one last glance at her father. "Hold on, Father," she whispered. "I need you. We all do."
As she walked through the long corridors of the estate, her thoughts raced. The attempted assassination was more than a personal attack on her family—it was a strike against the very foundation of the kingdom. Her father had been at the center of delicate negotiations with the king to quell rising tensions among the nobility. His absence now left a dangerous vacuum, one that enemies of the crown would undoubtedly seek to exploit.
The council chamber buzzed with heated voices as she entered. Heads turned, and the room fell into a tense silence. She felt their eyes on her, some filled with pity, others with doubt.
"Lady Elysia," one of the older lords began, his tone condescending, "perhaps it would be best if—"
"I am here to represent House Greystone," she interrupted firmly, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. "Whatever matters are to be discussed, I will hear them."
As the lords and knights began to debate, Elysia felt the enormity of the moment settle over her. The kingdom was shaken—its alliances fractured, its people on edge. And now, with her father incapacitated, the responsibility of safeguarding her family and their role in the realm fell squarely on her shoulders.
For the first time in her life, Elysia realized that she was not just a daughter, not just a noblewoman. She was a leader, and the decisions she made here could either save the kingdom—or shatter it completely.
"Maybe we should involve your eldest sister, as your brother is still in the mountains training," a portly councilman suggested, his deep voice carrying a hint of worry. Despite his outwardly critical tone, it was evident that his concern was genuine. Beads of sweat clung to his brow as he nervously wiped his face with a handkerchief.
Elysia's eyes narrowed slightly, though she kept her expression composed. "My sister is currently managing the estates in the south," she replied. "Pulling her away would destabilize those territories, and I doubt the kingdom can afford further unrest at this moment."
"But, my Lady," the councilman persisted, "your father's... condition has left the northern territories vulnerable. With all due respect, we need a proven leader at the helm. Someone who has more... experience navigating these matters."
Elysia met his gaze, her voice calm but firm. "Experience is earned, not granted. I have stood by my father during countless councils, and I am not ignorant of the gravity of this situation. My sister cannot be here, and my brother is unreachable. That leaves me. If you doubt my capabilities, you are welcome to step aside and let me handle it."
A murmur swept through the chamber, some council members nodding in agreement while others exchanged uneasy glances.
The fat councilman hesitated before lowering his head slightly. "Of course, my Lady. Forgive me. I only wish to ensure the stability of House Greystone and the kingdom."
Elysia softened her tone, understanding the weight of his concern. "I understand, Lord Harwin. But House Greystone stands united, whether it is my father, my siblings, or myself leading. I ask for your trust as we navigate these difficult times."
Sir Cedric, who stood at her side, stepped forward, his voice cutting through the room like steel. "Lady Elysia speaks with the authority of Duke Greystone. Those who question it might as well question the Duke himself."
That seemed to silence the room, and Elysia felt a surge of gratitude toward Cedric.
She turned back to the council. "Now, let us focus on the real threat. The attempt on my father's life was not an isolated act. It was a message. Someone within these lands seeks to undermine the unity of the kingdom. If we falter now, we play directly into their hands."
The chamber fell silent once more, the weight of her words sinking in. Though doubt lingered in some of their faces, Elysia knew she had begun to earn their respect. For better or worse, this was her trial by fire.
"What about the knight that was ceased, I am aware that he was caught trying to flee with the assain." another council member asked.
Elysia's gaze hardened, her fingers tightening slightly against the armrest of her chair. "Yes, Sir Arlen," she said, her voice steady but laced with a chill that silenced the room. "The knight who swore an oath of loyalty to my father, yet chose treachery over honor."
The council members exchanged uneasy glances, and one of the younger lords leaned forward. "Lady Elysia, do we know why he aided the assassin? Was it out of coercion? Greed? Or something more sinister?"
Elysia shifted her gaze to Sir Cedric, who stood at her side. He cleared his throat and spoke with grim authority. "Upon his capture, Sir Arlen was interrogated, but he has refused to provide any answers of substance. However, we discovered coded correspondence on his person. It suggests a connection to a faction operating in the shadows, but we have yet to decipher it fully."
"A faction?" Lord Harwin, the portly councilman from earlier, leaned forward, his face pale. "Do we know who they are or what they want?"
Elysia shook her head. "Not yet, but this confirms what we suspected—the attempt on my father's life was not a lone act of desperation. It was coordinated, calculated, and supported by someone—or some group—with resources and influence."
The older councilman stroked his beard, his brows furrowed. "And the assassin? Has he revealed anything?"
Elysia's jaw tightened. "Unfortunately, no. The assassin consumed poison before we could interrogate him. It was clear he was prepared to die rather than risk revealing his employer."
The room grew heavy with tension, the implications of her words sinking in.
"Then we have a rot within our ranks," another councilwoman stated bluntly, her sharp tone cutting through the murmurs. "A knight turned traitor, secret messages, and factions moving against us. This is not just an attack on House Greystone. This is an attack on the kingdom."
Elysia nodded, her resolve strengthening. "Which is why we cannot act rashly. Sir Arlen's betrayal has shaken the trust between our soldiers and leadership, but we cannot allow fear to divide us. Until we uncover the truth, every decision we make must be calculated."
Sir Cedric's voice carried the weight of unspoken anger. "Rest assured, my Lady, Sir Arlen will break. It is only a matter of time before we have the answers we need."
"And when we do," Elysia added, her tone firm, "we will send a message to whoever dared to orchestrate this attack. House Greystone will not fall, and those who seek to disrupt the kingdom will regret ever underestimating us."
The room remained silent, the gravity of the moment anchoring the council members in their seats. Elysia allowed herself a moment of relief—they were beginning to see her not just as the Duke's daughter, but as a leader in her own right.
"But I'm confused," Lord Harwin said, drawing the council's attention to him. "If someone sought to assassinate a noble, why not target Duke Valemont? While we serve as the kingdom's first line of defense, we hardly pose a significant burden compared to the Duke and his influence over the military."
Elysia's sharp gaze landed on Lord Harwin, her expression unreadable as she considered his words. His observation wasn't without merit, and the council's murmurs suggested they were equally perplexed.
"You raise a valid point, Lord Harwin," Elysia admitted, her voice steady but thoughtful. "Duke Valemont commands the eastern armies and holds more direct influence over the kingdom's military. On the surface, it does seem peculiar that my father, a noble governing the borderlands, was the target."
The council leaned in, intrigued, as Lord Harwin continued, emboldened by her acknowledgment. "Perhaps it's not just about power but timing. Was there some specific decision or action recently taken by House Greystone that might have provoked this?"
Elysia's mind raced, piecing together the events of the past few weeks. "My father has always prioritized the kingdom's stability above all else. But... if I recall correctly, he recently opposed a motion during the king's council—one regarding the consolidation of troops in the southern regions."
Lord Harrick, a slender man known for his keen mind, spoke up. "The south? The region has been quiet for years. Why would such a motion be significant?"
Elysia's eyes narrowed as she recalled the details. "The motion came from House Drelmont, did it not? My father argued against it, claiming it would leave the borders vulnerable. He suggested that House Drelmont was overstating the threat in the south to hoard troops for their own purposes."
The room grew tense as realization dawned. Lord Harwin's face darkened. "If House Drelmont sought to remove your father, it wouldn't be to protect the south. It would be to weaken the borders and divert attention while they... what? Consolidate power? Or worse, strike elsewhere?"
Elysia inhaled sharply. "If that's true, their goal may not be my father's death alone. Weakening the borders could pave the way for an external attack—or even internal rebellion."
Sir Cedric, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice a low growl. "Then this isn't just an act of vengeance or a personal vendetta. This is treason—a plot to destabilize the kingdom itself."
The council erupted into murmurs, the weight of Cedric's words striking them like a hammer. Elysia raised her hand to silence them. "We must tread carefully. If House Drelmont is behind this, then their influence reaches further than we can see. We cannot accuse them without concrete proof, or we risk civil unrest."
Lord Harwin nodded reluctantly. "But what do we do in the meantime? The kingdom cannot afford to be shaken further."
Elysia's voice hardened, her resolve unshakable. "We fortify our defenses. We investigate every lead, interrogate Sir Arlen until he breaks, and decipher the coded messages. If House Drelmont is plotting against the crown, they will slip. And when they do, we will ensure they answer for their crimes."
The council fell silent, the determination in Elysia's tone reassuring them. She had no doubt the kingdom was on the brink of something far greater than a single assassination attempt. The question now was whether they could uncover the truth before it was too late.