the timid bride

**Chapter 50 – Crown of Flames**

Zara hadn't spoken in hours.

She sat in the royal garden, beneath the scorched branches of a once-blooming cherry tree. The blossoms had withered during the chaos, the petals turned to ash by the smoke that still lingered in the palace air.

The sky was grey. But her heart was darker.

Kael approached quietly. He didn't speak. He simply knelt beside her, taking her cold hand into his.

"They took everything," she whispered.

"You're still here," he replied softly.

Zara turned to him, her eyes raw. "What if they're gone? My mother, my aunt… What if there's nothing left?"

Kael squeezed her hand. "Then we avenge them."

---

The council chamber was full.

For the first time in weeks, every seat was filled. Not a single noble dared feign illness or send a proxy.

Zara entered in silence.

No crown.

No jewelry.

Just black robes.

And blood in her eyes.

Thorne stood to the side, arms folded, watching the nobles shift uncomfortably under her stare.

Zara stepped up to the high dais.

"My village has been burned," she said flatly. "My family is likely dead."

No one dared breathe.

"And yet, some of you still sit here with ink on your fingers from writing secret letters to those who want me gone."

A nobleman swallowed hard.

Zara's gaze cut into him. "Yes, Lord Renford. I read your letter."

He began to stammer. "I– I never—"

She held up the parchment, her voice rising. "You asked the Order to strike the palace *after* the harvest ball, so your estate wouldn't suffer from the chaos. You gave them *dates*, *guard rotations*, *names of loyal soldiers*."

Gasps filled the room.

Zara turned slowly to face the rest.

"How many more of you think you can hide your treason behind silks and smiles?"

She tossed the letter into the fire.

"From this day forward, betrayal will not be exiled. It will be executed."

The room went silent.

Dead silent.

And then Kael stepped forward and spoke just one sentence:

"The Queen has spoken."

---

That night, three nobles were arrested.

By morning, one confessed.

By midday, their heads were displayed outside the southern gates.

The city awoke to a message clear as sunrise:

**This Queen does not beg. She burns.**

---

But despite the strength she showed in public, Zara unraveled in private.

She cried only once—alone, in her mother's old scarf, the one she'd brought to the palace years ago.

She didn't let Kael see her cry.

She couldn't.

Because if she allowed herself to break…

She didn't think she'd come back together again.

---

Kael paced in the war chamber, studying the Order's map again.

"They've gone too far," he muttered.

Thorne nodded. "They're pushing her into a corner."

"Then we push back," Kael said. "We find every name linked to the Order. Every noble, every merchant, every snake hiding in our walls."

Thorne unfolded a new scroll. "Already started. And… we may have a lead."

Kael turned. "Where?"

"There's a man. A scholar. Used to serve the Order before they became radicals. He disappeared five years ago."

Kael frowned. "And?"

Thorne smirked. "He just resurfaced in the northern outpost. Selling documents."

"Documents?" Kael asked.

"Blueprints," Thorne said. "Of the Order's headquarters."

---

When Kael told Zara that night, her reaction was not relief.

It was steel.

"Send for him," she said.

"I already have."

She stared out the window. "If he's lying, I'll end him myself."

Kael stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You won't have to," he murmured. "But if you do, I'll hold your hand through it."

Zara turned, burying her face in his chest. Just for a moment.

Then she straightened.

"I want him brought here before sunrise."

---

The scholar's name was Elian.

Thin. Pale. Twitchy eyes. Ink-stained fingers.

He knelt before Zara like a rat trembling in the dark.

"I'm not your enemy, Your Majesty," he squeaked. "I was one of them, yes. But I left when they changed—when they began murdering children, threatening villages—"

Zara raised her hand. "You don't need to convince me."

He blinked. "I don't?"

"No," she said. "Because I don't trust you either way. But if your information is good… you live. If not…"

Her eyes flashed. "You'll be the next name on my fire."

---

Elian laid out scrolls across the war table.

Maps. Floor plans. Entry tunnels.

"The Order's base is hidden beneath the ruins of Velcrest Abbey," he explained. "It used to be a monastery. Now it's a fortress."

Zara studied the maps. "How many guards?"

"Too many for a frontal attack," Elian said. "But there's a weakness."

He pointed to a hidden route under a collapsed tower.

"It's still accessible from the cliffside."

Kael leaned in. "You're sure?"

Elian nodded. "I escaped through it."

Zara stared at the map, mind racing.

This was it.

Their opening.

Their only chance.

---

Later that night, Zara stood at her balcony, looking out over the capital.

Below, the streets were calm.

People returned to markets. Merchants reopened shops. Children played again.

But she knew peace was a lie.

A pause.

A breath before the scream.

Kael joined her.

"You're quiet," he said.

"I'm tired," she replied.

"Of fighting?"

She shook her head. "Of surviving."

Kael held her gently. "When this is over… I'll build you a world where you don't have to survive anymore. Only live."

Zara didn't speak for a long moment.

Then she looked up.

"No," she whispered. "We'll build it together."

---

As the palace fell asleep, Zara wrote three letters.

One to the military commander.

One to the citizens.

And one to her unborn child—should she ever have one.

She sealed them with her crest and placed them in the vault.

Just in case.

Because war didn't always favor the just.

It favored the prepared.

---

And so, beneath the stars of a kingdom still healing, the Timid Bride disappeared.

She had been forged in silence, hardened in betrayal, and crowned in fire.

Now she would lead an army not to reclaim a throne…

But to destroy a shadow that dared challenge her right to exist.

And when she returned—if she returned—

The kingdom would know her not as Queen…

But as **retribution made flesh**.