Through Flame and Time

The next morning, the snow stopped and the wind died down. Aveline stood on the ruined tower of the watchpost, gazing southeast. The first light of dawn peeked over the horizon, making her cape flutter like flames.

Lucian, wrapped in a thick robe with his shoulder carefully bandaged by her, still looked pale. He climbed the tower and placed a gold badge embossed with the triple royal seal into her hand.

"This is a secret order left by your father," he said. "It can mobilize 300 cavalry from the Eastern Border's old forces."

Aveline clenched the badge tightly and took a deep breath: "We need not just strength, but loyalty."

They pressed on without rest toward "Snowrest City" in the southwestern borderlands—once her father's fief, now under the command of General Vidal, a grizzled veteran in his fifties who had served under her father.

Avoiding main roads, they traveled through dense forests and farmlands. Days later, they reached the outskirts of Snowrest City. At dusk, the city gates opened quietly, and a light cavalry escort ushered them inside.

General Vidal awaited in the great hall. Clad in an old-fashioned military robe with a rugged face and neatly combed gray hair, he dropped to one knee at the sight of Aveline: "I pledge my life to serve you, Your Highness."

Aveline helped him up, her eyes blazing: "I have not come for the crown, but for truth and vengeance."

Vidal's gaze jolted, and he replied in a solemn voice: "If you are willing to unearth the old sins of the Fire Mark, I will rally the entire city in response."

That night, they held a secret council in the military hall. Aveline presented The Book of Ashes in its entirety, explaining each page with unwavering resolve. Everyone was stunned.

"The Regent has been plotting for years," Lucian added. "If we don't strike first, we won't even be able to protect the evidence."

After a long silence, Vidal finally stood and faced Aveline: "We will follow you, swearing never to betray the blood of our former lord."

By the time the council ended near midnight, Aveline sat alone by her bedroom window, still holding the badge. Lucian pushed open the door, his eyes filled with relief and tenderness.

"This city will be the starting point of our counterattack," he said.

She rose and walked to him: "Does it still hurt?"

"Compared to how you looked in the council chamber? Nothing."

She chuckled, sliding her fingers under his robe to trace the unhealed wound: "You truly are mine."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and murmured: "Always have been."

She removed her cape, wearing only a sheer veil, standing before him like a flower blooming in firelight. Lucian kissed her, from behind her ear down to her chest, each kiss mark like a branded vow.

They fell onto the animal fur rug, with her straddling him, her body trembling as she controlled each thrust. Lucian threw his head back, gasping her name, while she leaned down to whisper in his ear: "After Snowrest, it's the royal palace."

"And you," he gritted his teeth, hands gripping her waist, "are the queen I willingly follow."

Outside, the snow and wind had just subsided, yet war was on the horizon. Beneath the bed curtains, their intertwined bodies inscribed an unspoken oath.