Through Flame and Time

The three days in Snowrest City felt like a condensation of the entire winter.

Aveline did not rest for a moment. She directed General Vidal to redeploy defenses, adding mechanisms to city gates and setting traps in dark alleys. Every command was detailed down to stride lengths and bow distances. Lucian personally inspected all watchtowers, deploying soldiers while still injured to stabilize morale.

Kalia spent day and night developing antidotes against the Regent's poison masters, containing military illnesses to the smallest scope. Though scarred, Snowrest stood like a cold-land thornbush, tenaciously facing the wind.

At dawn on the third day, scouts reported: the Regent's army had crossed Mirror Lake, encamping thirty li away with golden-black double crests flying over the main tent and royal flags waving.

"He truly came in person," Lucian narrowed his eyes. "This will be the final battle."

"I've waited for this moment too long," Aveline whispered.

That night, a oath-taking assembly was held in the camp. Braziers stood in rows as generals gathered under battle flags.

Clad in black armor and wearing her father's cape, Aveline stepped to the front, her voice low yet piercing through night wind and flames.

"You could have chosen to live, yet you stay—for what?"

"For freedom!"

"For truth!"

"For the rightful king!"

She raised her hand, revealing the metal badge branded by the Fire Mark: "I seek no crown. I only ask that after tomorrow, this kingdom is no longer ruled by lies and fear."

All knelt in response: "We swear to follow to the death!"

She raised her sword to the sky, flames reflecting off its edge: "By the flame, Snowrest shall not fall!"

After the assembly, she and Lucian walked to the lakeside outside the camp. Silver light mirrored the snow, wrapping them in silence. He removed her helmet, draping an outer robe over her: "You're like your father."

"I'm harsher than him," she whispered. "I won't die in a court council."

After a moment of silence, he pulled her into his arms: "Then I'll live or die with you."

She tilted her head to kiss him, lips and tongues tangling as if tomorrow would never come. He pressed her down into the snow, his movements surprisingly gentle.

"Here?" she smiled.

"You are my fire, and I'd burn out in the snow for you."

She unfastened his armor as he kissed her neck, chest, and abdominal line, fingers brushing the crease of her thigh to ignite every sensory inch of her body in the ice and snow. He entered her slowly and deeply, each thrust a whispered vow.

Straddling him with long hair flowing, she panted repeated murmurs: "I am yours, and you are mine."

They rolled and tangled in the snow until the moon rose to the zenith, white snow turning to steamy mist. Shivering in climax, she held him tight: "After tomorrow, win or lose—don't leave me alone."

He clasped her hand: "I'll stay with you until the flames die and ashes fall."

In the distance, royal flags fluttered. Under the cold night, oaths before the flame had been sworn.