the timid bride

# Chapter 56 – The First Spark of Rebellion

Zara stood at the far end of the throne room, her arms crossed as she watched the nobles squirm beneath the weight of her reports. The audit had already begun—quietly, strategically—and the first cracks were showing.

Three warehouses had been exposed for hiding supply discrepancies. One merchant admitted to inflating food prices under orders from Lord Kael's associate. It wasn't enough for arrests yet, but it was a start.

Damon stood beside her, unreadable.

"This is going to blow up soon," she murmured.

He glanced down at her. "And when it does?"

"We'll be ready."

Lord Kael entered, cloaked in charm and venom. He bowed low but made no effort to hide his disdain.

"I must commend you, Princess," he said smoothly. "You've certainly stirred the hornet's nest."

"Then let's hope the hornets know who they're stinging," Zara replied coolly.

He smiled. "The people still love their prince, you know. But what happens when they think their princess is overstepping?"

Zara took a step forward. "Then I'll remind them that I bled for this crown just as much as anyone born into it."

Kael's smile thinned, and he bowed again before turning on his heel.

Damon raised a brow. "You're provoking him."

"Good," Zara said. "He needs to know I'm not afraid."

—

That evening, Damon invited her to the training yard.

"You want me to fight?" Zara asked, eyeing the wooden practice sword.

"I want you to defend yourself."

He tossed her the blade.

She caught it, barely.

"Wielding power isn't just about words," he said. "It's about knowing how to survive."

Zara swung and missed him by a wide margin.

"Terrible," he said dryly.

She tried again.

He blocked it effortlessly.

"I've never held a sword in my life," she huffed.

"Then this is the perfect time to start."

They trained until the moon was high. By the end of the session, Zara's arms ached, and sweat clung to her brow, but her form had improved.

She leaned against the training post. "Was I that bad?"

Damon stepped closer. "You were… persistent."

She smirked. "That's noble-speak for hopeless."

He didn't deny it.

But he did offer his hand.

She took it.

—

The next morning, news arrived from the outer provinces—two more grain shipments had disappeared.

Zara was furious.

"They're tightening their grip," she said, slamming the report onto the table. "They're starving people just to make us look incompetent."

"We don't have proof yet," Damon said, eyes scanning the paper.

"Then we find proof."

She paced. "Send word to the East. Use the same tailor boy. Code it through fabric patterns again—red stitching for sabotage, green for safe passage."

Damon watched her carefully. "You're moving like a general."

She paused. "Because this is a war. They just haven't declared it yet."

—

At sunset, Zara met with Amara in the royal greenhouse, far from listening ears.

"Everything's changing," Amara whispered. "You're changing."

"I have to," Zara replied. "If I don't, they'll eat me alive."

"But what about Damon? Do you trust him now?"

Zara hesitated.

"I trust that he won't betray me," she said softly. "But I don't know if he's ready to choose me over the crown."

Amara touched her hand. "Then make sure the crown needs you more than it needs them."

Zara nodded.

And in that moment, something inside her hardened.

She was no longer the timid bride they had brought to the palace.

She was becoming something else entirely.