Absolute Cheater

And here, in the dark, they had made their move.

Knights shouted as they scrambled to defend the royal carriage. Some were cut down in the confusion, others formed a shield wall around it. Arrows whistled through the night, but Valeris was already inside the storm, her blade an extension of her will. She moved like a flash of moonlight—precise, lethal, merciless.

Asher, meanwhile, carved a path through the attackers with brutal efficiency. Lucas's training lived in his muscles, but it was Asher's will behind the strikes. He fought not like a knight, but like a sovereign. Calculated. Commanding.

One assassin broke through the perimeter and lunged straight for Valeris, a curved dagger in hand, poison dripping from the blade.

She caught him mid-air.

Twisting. Spinning.

Her sword opened his throat in a clean arc, and he fell at her feet.

"Cowards," she hissed. "They couldn't kill me in court, so they sent blades in the night."

"They weren't counting on you being... you," Asher said, joining her. His blade was slick with blood, his eyes cold. "And they definitely weren't counting on me."

More shouts. The last of the assassins were fleeing now, disappearing into the dark woods. Asher made no move to follow.

"Let them run," he said. "We'll find out who sent them soon enough."

The camp lay in eerie quiet. Bodies littered the gravel. Some of the knights had fallen, though most stood—shaken but alive. A few returned to the fires in silence, others moved to secure the perimeter again, tightening defenses, doubling watches.

Valeris stood tall amid it all, her breath steady, her gaze burning.

Asher looked at her and saw not just the character she was playing—but the queen she was, in spirit.

"You alright?" he asked softly, wiping his blade.

"I will be," she replied. "But this... this won't be the last attempt."

"No," Asher said, sheathing his weapon. "It won't. But they'll need a damn army next time."

Above them, the moon slid behind a cloud, casting the camp into a brief veil of shadow.

But neither of them feared the dark.

The game had changed. The pieces were moving.

And someone in Mimir had made a dangerous enemy.

Morning came with the scent of blood still clinging to the gravel and river mist.

The knights buried their dead before sunrise. Three had fallen—young, loyal, brave in the way only those who'd never faced death could be. Valeris stood by as they were laid to rest, her expression unreadable beneath the veil of royal composure. But Asher could feel the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers curled at her sides.

She wanted names.

So did he.

By mid-morning, the caravan was moving again—slower, more guarded. The perimeter had doubled, and knights rode in tight formations. But even then, the silence was no longer the quiet of peace.

It was the stillness of a held breath.

Valeris remained inside the carriage, but the curtains were drawn wide open now. No hiding. No shame. Whoever had tried to kill her hadn't buried her—they'd carved her in iron instead.

Asher rode at the head of the column, eyes scanning the road ahead. His mind wasn't on the forest anymore. It was already on Mimir.

He remembered what Valeris had said the night before: "They couldn't kill me in court, so they sent blades in the night."

Now those same blades had names, faces, and sponsors. And Asher knew exactly the type of people they'd be dealing with—nobles with smiling mouths and daggered hands. Old blood, jealous of new rule. Cousins and uncles of would-be kings. Quiet enemies hiding behind protocol and tradition, waiting for the last piece to fall.

They had mistaken Valeris for a pawn.

Now they'd see she was a queen.

And she wasn't alone.

By evening, the towers of Mimir broke the horizon.

The kingdom was carved into the cliffs like a jewel half-swallowed by the earth. Silver domes gleamed under the setting sun, and aqueducts of living water poured from spouts carved with angelic beasts. Bridges of glass and stone arced between towers, while banners of soft gold fluttered in the wind—bearing the sigil of House Sarraneth: an eye within a sunburst.

The Queen's house.

Their return was not quiet.

As they entered the capital gates, the city bells rang. A royal procession had been prepared—knights in gleaming white stood in columns, banners waved, and flower petals rained down from the balconies. Children cheered, and the people called Valeris's name as the carriage passed through.

To them, this was a fairytale.

The lost queen returning home.

But Asher saw past it all.

He saw the men who didn't clap. The courtiers who didn't smile. The cold stares from the upper balconies where rival houses gathered. Nobles who had hoped she'd never return—or, better yet, be brought home in a coffin.

He made mental notes of every face.

So did Valeris.

She stepped out of the carriage as they reached the Palace Gate—a grand fortress of rose-colored stone and mirrored glass. Dressed in a deep crimson gown laced with shadow-silver threads, she looked like a goddess of war made flesh. No veil. No crown. Just presence.

Asher stood a step behind her, still in his knight's armor, sword at his hip, gaze hard.

A herald stepped forward to announce them.

But Valeris cut him off with a lift of her hand. Her voice rang out over the courtyard:

"I return not as a daughter of this land, but as its sovereign voice. I bring with me the will of two kingdoms—and the blood of those who would see it shattered."

She paused.

"And to those among us who believe assassins can silence bloodlines—you have failed."

A slow hush swept over the courtyard.

Not all applauded.

But many did.

And more importantly, none dared speak against her.

Later that night, in the chambers prepared for her return, Asher leaned on the balcony, gazing out at the towers of Mimir glowing beneath moonlight.

Valeris stepped beside him, removing her earrings one by one. Her voice was quiet.

"Three names," she said. "Three houses that refused to attend the ceremony. Old rivals. One of them sent those men."

"Maybe all three," Asher muttered. "Hard to say. What matters is, they've declared themselves."

She nodded. "They want to see me broken. Powerless. A placeholder queen."

"maybe the old Damsel was one, but I am not that powerless Queen" Vaelris said as she hugged Asher from behind " Not to mention I have you with me" She said as Asher nodded snapping his finger as a veil surrounded them hiding them.