the timid bride

# Chapter 75 – Trial of Fire

The sun broke over the capital in a flood of gold, but the warmth it brought did little to ease the chill in Zara's bones. She sat at the head of the war tribunal chamber, no longer dressed for diplomacy but for judgment. Her armor gleamed, her crown discarded—this was not a queen seated in grace, but a ruler standing at the edge of a battlefield. And today, the battlefield was her court.

Before her stood five nobles, each shackled, each stripped of their family crests and fine robes. Their betrayal had been documented—letters seized from Elderglen, testimonies from mercenaries, and intercepted messages sealed with their sigils. There would be no escape. Only consequences.

A crowd had gathered within the walls, nobles and soldiers alike filling the balconies, silent, watching. Even the common folk were allowed to witness from the outer courtyard via messengers and runners. Zara had insisted on it.

"They plotted to destroy our kingdom," she said, voice echoing through the hall. "They sought to tear us apart from within while Corshal and his dogs attacked from without."

One of the accused, Lord Severin, lifted his head. His face bore the look of a man who had once worn entitlement like armor.

"We did what was necessary," he spat. "You would have bled the realm dry with your reckless war."

Zara's eyes darkened. "You funded massacres. You sold secrets. You paid for the slaughter of innocents."

Another noble, Lady Kaelra, stepped forward. "We were trying to preserve the order that made our kingdom strong."

Zara rose slowly. "Order built on blood and silence is not order. It is tyranny."

The crowd murmured. Zara turned toward Damon and nodded.

He unrolled a parchment. "By royal decree, the five nobles named herein shall be stripped of title, lands, and privilege. They shall be sentenced to exile and disavowed by the Crown. If they return, it will be under the sword."

The nobles shouted, protested, one even wept. But Zara didn't waver. She had shown mercy before. It had nearly cost her the kingdom.

From the balcony, someone called out, "Long live the Queen!" Others followed. A wave of voices, strong and rising, echoed through the chamber.

Zara did not smile. But she did feel something shift—something subtle. Fear was no longer in control of the people. It was being replaced, slowly, by something dangerous to tyrants.

Hope.

---

Later that evening, Zara walked alone in the inner gardens. The blossoms were sparse—many had died during the winter—but a few stubborn buds pushed their way toward the spring sun.

Damon joined her in silence, his boots crunching the gravel path.

"You did what needed to be done," he said gently.

"I know," she replied. "But it still hurts."

He glanced at her. "That's what makes you different from them."

They walked in silence until she asked, "How long do you think until Corshal strikes again?"

"Not long," Damon replied. "He'll see the trials as a threat. He'll act before he loses more ground."

Zara nodded. "Then we stay ready. We rebuild our defenses. We clean our court. And we take the fight to him."

Amara joined them moments later, a sealed letter in hand.

"From the eastern border," she said. "There's unrest in the province of Fenmark. Riots. A noble loyal to Corshal is stirring rebellion."

Zara took the letter, broke the seal, and read quickly.

"Another fire," she murmured.

Damon looked at her. "Then we go north again?"

She folded the letter. "No. We go east."

And with that, the next phase of war began.

The storm had not passed.

It had only changed direction.

(Word Count: 1,514)