Dawn broke over the kingdom of Eryndor in a pale wash of light, casting long shadows across the castle walls. Princess Layna was already awake, her body taut with the restlessness that had plagued her since the council's demands the previous day. She stood in her armory, fastening the straps of her leather armor, the feel of the steel buckles grounding her in the midst of her inner turmoil.
Today would be different. She had promised herself as much.
The decision to leave the castle for a patrol along the northern border was as much about escaping the oppressive atmosphere of the court as it was about strategic defense. The Velkar forces had been growing bolder in their skirmishes, and Layna knew she needed to be ready for whatever came next. But more than that, she needed to clear her head.
Her father's words weighed heavily on her: "The future of Eryndor rests on your shoulders." And behind his plea was the council's ultimatum—to marry Lord Daren and secure an alliance that would protect the kingdom. Layna bristled at the thought. A marriage to Daren would mean shackling herself to a man she did not trust, let alone love. It would mean abandoning her identity as a warrior for the sake of politics.
No, Layna decided. There had to be another way. But first, she needed distance. And if there was one thing she could control, it was the battlefield.
"Princess," Sir Gerrin's voice came from behind her as he entered the armory. "The patrol is ready. We leave at your command."
Layna turned, securing her sword in its scabbard. "Good. We head north. If the Velkars are planning another attack, I want to know about it before they strike."
Gerrin nodded, his eyes filled with the silent respect he always had for her. He knew better than anyone that she was no ordinary princess—she was a leader, a warrior. And despite the murmurs of discontent within the court, her soldiers followed her without question.
Together, they mounted their horses and rode out through the gates of Eryndor, the cold morning air biting at their skin. Layna's elite unit, a group of twenty battle-hardened knights, followed closely behind, their armor gleaming in the early light.
The northern border was a rugged landscape of rolling hills and dense forests, a natural barrier that had long protected Eryndor from invasion. But in recent months, the Velkars had begun probing their defenses, testing the kingdom's strength. It was only a matter of time before they launched a full-scale assault.
As they rode deeper into the wild, Layna kept her senses sharp. Something about the air felt off. The usual sounds of the forest—the chirping of birds, the rustle of leaves—seemed muted, as if the land itself was holding its breath.
"Stay alert," Layna called out to her men. "We may not be alone out here."
The knights spread out slightly, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Layna's heart beat steadily, the familiar thrill of danger coursing through her veins. She had always found peace in moments like this, when her instincts took over and the noise of the world faded away.
But then, in the blink of an eye, the stillness shattered.
From the dense underbrush, a barrage of arrows whizzed through the air. Layna reacted instantly, pulling her shield from her back and raising it just in time to deflect an arrow aimed for her chest. Around her, her knights scrambled to take defensive positions, their shields raised as more arrows rained down upon them.
"Ambush!" Gerrin shouted, drawing his sword.
Layna's eyes darted across the landscape, searching for the source of the attack. The enemy was well hidden, using the thick forest to their advantage. But she had faced worse odds before.
"Form up!" Layna ordered, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Hold the line and push forward!"
Her knights obeyed without hesitation, forming a tight phalanx and advancing slowly through the forest. But the enemy was elusive, their arrows striking from unseen vantage points.
Layna's mind raced. Whoever these attackers were, they weren't ordinary bandits. Their precision and coordination suggested a trained force—Velkar scouts, perhaps. But how had they gotten so deep into Eryndor's territory?
As the arrows continued to fly, Layna knew they couldn't stay on the defensive for long. They needed to break the ambush and take the fight to their attackers. She glanced at Sir Gerrin, who was fending off an arrow aimed for his leg.
"We need to flush them out," she said, her voice low but urgent.
Gerrin nodded, understanding her plan immediately. "I'll lead a group to circle around. Draw their fire."
Layna's grip tightened on her sword. "Go. I'll hold them here."
Without wasting another second, Gerrin and five of the knights broke off from the formation, disappearing into the forest to flank the attackers. Layna and the remaining knights pressed forward, pushing toward the source of the arrows with renewed force.
Suddenly, an arrow zipped past Layna's head, grazing her cheek. Blood trickled down her face, but she barely registered the pain. Her eyes locked onto a figure moving in the trees—a shadowy figure cloaked in black.
Without hesitation, Layna spurred her horse forward, charging toward the figure. She swung her sword with deadly precision, cutting through the underbrush as she closed the distance. But just as she was about to strike, the figure vanished, disappearing into the shadows like smoke.
A low growl of frustration escaped Layna's throat. These attackers were skilled, far more than she had anticipated. But she wouldn't let them slip away so easily.
"Princess!" a voice called from behind her.
Layna turned to see Gerrin emerging from the trees, his sword bloodied and his face grim. "We've broken their line. The attackers are retreating."
Layna's heart pounded as she surveyed the battlefield. The ambush had been swift and brutal, but her knights had held their ground. The enemy was fleeing, disappearing into the depths of the forest. But something still didn't sit right with her.
"Let them go," Layna said, her voice cold. "We need to regroup."
As the knights gathered around her, Layna's mind raced with questions. Who had orchestrated this ambush? And why had they targeted her patrol so specifically?
"Princess," Gerrin said, his voice quiet but urgent. "We captured one of the attackers. He's being held back at the camp."
Layna's eyes narrowed. "Take me to him."
Back at the makeshift camp, Layna dismounted her horse and followed Gerrin toward the prisoner. Her heart still raced with the adrenaline of the ambush, but now it was tempered with a simmering rage. Whoever these attackers were, they had crossed a line.
The prisoner was bound to a tree, his face bloodied from the fight but his eyes still defiant. He was young, no older than twenty, with the hardened look of a trained soldier.
Layna approached him, her sword still in hand. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice cold as ice.
The man spat blood onto the ground, his lips curling into a sneer. "You think I'll talk, princess? You're a fool."
Layna's eyes flashed with anger, but she kept her composure. "I don't need you to talk. I just need to know who sent you."
The man remained silent, his jaw clenched in defiance.
Layna's patience was wearing thin. She raised her sword, the blade gleaming in the fading light. "Tell me now, or I will make sure you regret it."
Before the man could respond, a voice interrupted them from the shadows.
"Leave him."
Layna turned sharply, her sword raised defensively. Emerging from the trees was Zach—the mysterious knight who had saved her life on the battlefield days earlier. His presence was unexpected, and for a moment, Layna was caught off guard.
"What are you doing here?" Layna demanded, her sword still raised.
Zach stepped closer, his face calm but serious. "These men are mercenaries. Hired by someone within your own court."
Layna's blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"
Zach met her gaze, his eyes dark with knowledge. "There's a traitor in your midst, princess. And they want you dead."