the timid bride

# Chapter 77 – Into Westmere

The Westmere Mountains were a jagged chain of stone and ice, their peaks veiled in fog and secrets. Legends said they were once home to dragons, now only whispered in lullabies. But as Zara's army began its climb, she knew the danger ahead was no myth.

Corshal was here. The last rat in the cage.

They had followed the trail of blood and rebellion all the way to this place. Scouts confirmed his hideout deep within the mountains—an old fortress from the ancient wars, long forgotten by maps. The rebels had fortified it over the years, turning it into a stronghold surrounded by natural barriers.

Zara stood at the edge of a narrow cliffside path, cloak billowing in the wind. Behind her, Damon, Amara, and their most elite warriors prepared for the final march.

"We'll have to move carefully," Amara said, eyes on the ravines below. "The path is narrow, and they'll be watching from every rock."

Damon checked his gear. "We'll go in small teams. No war drums. No banners. Just steel and resolve."

Zara nodded. "We finish this tonight."

---

They set out at twilight, slipping between pine trees and rocky ledges. Snow began to fall, dusting their cloaks and helmets. It muffled the sound of their boots, wrapped the mountain in eerie silence.

They encountered resistance before reaching the outer walls—traps laid beneath snow, hidden archers in crags. Two soldiers fell before they reached the lower ridge. But they pressed on, grit in their teeth and fury in their hearts.

The fortress loomed ahead, carved into the side of the cliff like a scar. A drawbridge guarded the entrance, its iron chains creaking in the wind.

Zara raised her hand.

A single arrow flew from Amara's bow, striking the chain's pulley. It snapped with a groan, and the bridge crashed down. Her soldiers surged forward.

The outer wall fell in minutes. Zara led the charge, her blade moving like lightning. The rebel guards fought viciously, but their morale cracked as their front line buckled.

Inside, the corridors were narrow and cold, lit by flickering torches. Zara advanced with Damon at her side, each turn a step closer to Corshal.

Suddenly, a thunderous blast echoed from within the stone halls—a trap rigged with alchemical fire. The wall to their left exploded, rubble flying. One soldier screamed, caught beneath stone.

"Keep moving!" Zara ordered.

They advanced into the heart of the keep—where Corshal waited.

---

He stood in the great chamber, draped in fine black robes, as though he hadn't been hiding in caves like a rat for months. His hair had gone white, but his eyes still glowed with ambition.

"I should applaud you," he said, spreading his arms. "You chased shadows and set the kingdom ablaze just to get to me."

Zara didn't flinch. "You tried to burn it down. I only lit torches to find you."

Corshal laughed. "What will killing me change, girl? You've created more enemies than I ever did. Your people are tired."

"I gave them something to fight for," she said. "You gave them lies and promised them crowns made of dust."

Damon and Amara moved to flank him, but Corshal raised a hand. "Do it, then. Strike me down."

Zara stepped forward. "You think that's how this ends? With your martyrdom?"

She pulled the scrolls from her cloak—documents taken from his lieutenants, signed orders, false alliances, betrayal.

"No," she said. "You won't die a symbol. You'll die exposed. Forgotten. And cursed."

She thrust her sword through his chest.

Corshal gasped, blood spilling from his mouth. His knees buckled.

Zara leaned down as he fell. "This is justice. Not vengeance."

---

By morning, the fortress was burning.

They lit every rebel banner on fire. The remaining mercenaries were taken prisoner. Zara stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the flames dance in the snowy wind.

Amara approached. "It's over."

Zara didn't respond right away. Her eyes stayed on the horizon.

"No," she finally said. "Now we begin again."

Because peace wasn't the absence of war.

It was what came after the fires died down.

And she would be there to rebuild.

Brick by brick. Law by law. Heart by heart.

(Word Count: 1,563)