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Chapter Text

Kaelin Atlherya was used to the unceasing clanging of swords clashing together. She was used to the repetitive cries and endless screams. She was also used to seeing her comrades fall one after another. Everything was an endless cycle. 

A cycle she could not escape. 

When one kingdom fought another, the result was always disaster and desolation.

Valrosse fought Malden. Malden fought Valrosse. And that was all. 

Deaths for the victory of one nation that wished to devour another. The greed of the rulers was matched only by their joy when the generals came to announce that a new piece of territory had been conquered. 

Kaelin Altherya was a warrior unlike any Valrosse had ever known. Worth more than ten men on her own, she was surely one of the reasons why the last battles had been won.

And yet, the war was not progressing. The conflict dragged on, and neither nation seemed willing to resolve it and surrender. The little territory that had been conquered was quickly lost again, just as quickly as it had been won. 

Ground 11, or “The Beginning” as the soldiers liked to call it, was the epicenter of the conflict. It was the main area where the eleventh war between Valrosse and Malden had taken place. A battlefield several feet long, Ground 11 was perfectly located between the two kingdoms, surrounded by immense mountains and several watchtowers. 

It was probably the area Kaelin was most familiar with. And that was to her great regret. Kaelin was only familiar with the chaos of war. Her twenty years of existence were evidenced by her hesitations about how to behave in society. Should she hold her fork in her left hand? Or her right? Did she absolutely have to wear a dress like all the other ladies, full of a class she would never have?

Kaelin didn't know and didn't want to know. 

She was there to kill and avoid being killed.

Her short black hair tickled her shoulders, and even though she wasn't the most fashionable young woman, she was keen to keep it tidy when she could. Her eyes, almost ocean blue, contrasted with the darkness of her hair, painting a perfect picture of the young woman's contrast: a cold and determined being of icy beauty. 

Today was the eve of the final day of battle before a well-deserved ceasefire, and Kaelin was determined to give everything she had for her nation, even if it meant never returning from Ground 11. She knew that this was unlikely to happen, but she didn't care; she was prepared for anything, for life or death. 

The battle raged on, and her sword clashed with that of her opponent, whose heart was soon pierced by Ena. Ena was her beloved sword, as strong and indestructible as the blacksmith in her home village had promised, so she had named it after the village. Ena, forged in Port Enanta, was probably her most precious treasure, far more so than the futile jewelry with which the women adorned themselves in the capital, Valeth.

Kaelin destroyed everything in her path, from hesitant soldiers to the most valiant warriors. No one was able to resist her. Every person who crossed her path fell with a shrill crash, death taking them with it.

But Kaelin had not yet faced even more powerful Maldenian warriors. This was only the beginning, and she was completely unaware of it. 

As she continued to battle, she saw Noé a little further away, also fighting with a grace she had always envied. 

Noé Vôllster had been Kaelin's best friend for nearly ten years. She had met him at the Port Enanta Orphanage before Morwen adopted her. Noé was the person closest to Kaelin after Morwen, and even though she could be a little cold, she had always shown him infinite kindness, which was her way of thanking him for being such a precious friend. 

“Kae! Watch out!” "

The young woman turned abruptly, seeing a man rushing toward her headlong. That was all it took for her to draw Ena and slice the man who had just tried to assassinate her. 

“Still as strong as ever,” Noé added with a smile. 

Kaelin gave him a mischievous smile, brushing away the brown strands of hair that were sticking to her face with sweat.

“This is only the beginning,” she said.

Back to back and on guard, the two friends drew their swords again. 

It was time to fight.

Sol had always had this gentle but nonchalant side to him. Not because he was a prince, but because he had had too much to do with royal obligations, etiquette, and battles. Many things no longer affected him.

However, he retained his curiosity about all the things he knew very little about. Sol Riven, in addition to being a prince adored by the people of Malden, represented their hope of defeating Valrosse once and for all. 

"Sol! "

Thibalt Riven had just arrived in front of him, dressed in combat gear and decorated with all the medals he had received so far. It's almost ridiculous, Sol thought to himself. However, it was impossible for him to say what he was thinking out loud, given the status of the man in front of him. 

Thibalt Riven was the direct heir to the throne of Malden, and as the second prince, it was impossible for him to oppose the future king of his kingdom. Given their small age difference, Sol would probably never become king. This was something he had accepted long ago. 

But Thibalt was quite different from his brother. Arrogant and pretentious, despite his undeniable physical resemblance to his younger brother, he was, in terms of personality, drastically opposed to him.

“You're ready for tomorrow's battle, aren't you?”

“Of course.” Sol replied with a hypocritical smile plastered on his face.

Sol was named after the sun, his parents having chosen this name because his eyes were so light that they contrasted with his brother's raven black ones. Both were tall, blond young men, but Sol's gray eyes lit up his face like rays of sunshine. 

As the Maldenian people had learned to say, Sol was the sun and Thibalt was the moon. Or something even darker. And both of them were well aware of this, except that Thibalt had no idea that his beloved brother did not particularly hold him in high esteem. 

Sol smiled and, after a brief greeting, turned and left. Clenching his fist, he promised himself that one day this war would end, and he hoped to be the one to bring it about. No matter what happened, nothing could justify such a disaster and so many deaths.

Except for the greed of his parents and that of the King and the Queen of Valrosse.

“The Maldenians are as violent as ever.” Morwen had one hand on a soldier's shoulder to stop the bleeding and the other on Kaelin's, who was fidgeting. “Stop fidgeting, Kae, will you? I'm going to have to stitch you up.”

“I don't need it! There are clearly people who need it more than I do!” Kaelin stood up abruptly, looking at her adoptive father defiantly, then immediately softened at his gaze. 

Morwen tilted his head to one side as usual and smiled, a strand of brown hair falling across his face as he looked at Kaelin with his blue eyes. It was during moments like these that Kaelin thought she looked a lot like him. 

Kaelin Altherya and Morwen Castemar were not related by blood, yet they looked like two peas in a pod. Both had brown hair and ocean-blue eyes, but they didn't even share the same last name. Kaelin had inherited her last name from the orphanage where she had spent a short part of her childhood. 

Kaelin was extremely attached to Morwen. He was more than just an adoptive father; he was her everything, and she could never forget the light he had brought into her life and the happiness he gave her.

Malden would not take away Kaelin's father's glory and her precious memories.

But the war could alter them.

And that terrified her.

Chapter Text

The evening dragged on, and even though a good night's sleep was clearly essential, Kaelin couldn't sleep a wink. Was it because she was stressed? Probably, but she was used to that. Perhaps it was because this time Morwen was going to take part in the battle. 

It had been nearly five years since the eleventh conflict between Malden and Valrosse had begun, and nearly a year since Morwen had left the battlefield. Not because he was bad at fighting, for in the past he had been a formidable warrior. Rather, it was because Morwen Castemar was tired, and fighting caused him excruciating pain. 

That was why Kaelin was worried and desperately unable to sleep. The fear that something might happen to the only family she had was eating away at her more than anything else. But everything would be fine, the girl kept telling herself over and over again before deciding to get some fresh air for a few minutes to clear her head. 

To her surprise, she found Noé leaning over the small wooden deck of his house, staring into the distance. It seemed that her best friend was still suffering from his eternal insomnia. 

“I see you're still having trouble sleeping.” Kaelin approached with a slight smile on her lips and her light overshirt fluttering in the wind. 

“But I'm lucky to have the best neighbor who always keeps me company when I can't sleep, right?”

Kaelin let out a soft laugh and leaned over the edge of Noé’s terrace. She knew this terrace all too well, and this house was like her second home. 

Noé was a very tall young man with fine features and curly red hair. As much as he was regularly admired for his gorgeous red hair, what Kaelin liked best were his emerald green eyes, which created a striking contrast between his hair and his gaze. 

Noé Vôllster was a very handsome young man, but it must be said that Kaelin had never really seen him in that light. For her, Noé was Noé, her best friend, her family, the second most important person in her life. Perhaps it was because he had two little sisters and acted like a big brother, but Kaelin couldn't see him as a man. 

Much to Noé's chagrin, who saw Kaelin as more than just his heroine. He saw her as a precious gem that he was trying to make shine even brighter. But Kaelin didn't seem to want to shine and constantly escaped him in the twists and turns and dangers of the war she had been sent into since childhood.

The brunette had always had an innate talent for combat. A gift, or even more than that, Kaelin had never been defeated. Even as a child, she defended herself like an adult and gave her teachers and generals a hard time.

In this dark world where Malden and Valrosse had experienced nearly eleven wars over the ages, humanity had never known any real respite or a moment of peace. All children, regardless of gender and from the age of 14, had to go to the battlefield, and although Kaelin did not agree with this rule, she had followed it nonetheless. Through training after training, she had forged this strength within herself and this surprising talent for combat. 

While the barely fourteen-year-old child went off to battle, others less skilled in combat remained behind to take care of logistics. That's what happened to Noé at first, before he insisted every day to their zone general to let him join the battlefield and thus join Kaelin. 

And from that moment on, he saw the surprising woman that was Kaelin Altherya in a new light: that of a destructive and merciless fighter.

“You should go back to bed, it's late.”

“What about you? Will you be able to sleep?”

"Probably not much, but you know me, I'm used to it."

“I'm worried, Noé.”

“You're worried?” The redhead chuckled softly, then quickly regained his serious expression. 

“Noé.” Kaelin paused and turned back to Noé before grabbing both his hands. “We'll see each other again, won't we?”

“Of course,” Noé said with all the certainty he could muster.

But Noé wasn't sure of himself, and Kaelin was already going back to bed.

Sol's sleep was just as restless as Kaelin's. While the blond dreamed of his parents giving him instructions that he couldn't follow without hurting someone, Kaelin dreamed of Morwen's gentleness and Noé's kindness. 

A battle was beginning today, and it marked the beginning of everything. 

Kaelin got up early that day and slowly put on her armor before finishing with Ena, which she hung on her hip. She looked at her hands, covered in calluses, and the wounds that dotted the rest of the skin that was visible on her body. Every piece of clothing rubbed against her skin and irritated her, but she didn't care.

Kaelin was a warrior, and Kaelin was ready to fight. 

It was time for Ena to decimate and for Kae to shine. 

“Kae!” Morwen called to her adopted daughter as she was about to walk out the door. “Are you leaving without saying goodbye?” "

Kae didn't move, almost frozen to the spot. She didn't dare tell her the truth, that she was afraid for him, and even a little for herself. But above all, she was afraid of being sad and losing those she loved, and if she could, she would have fought this war alone against all of Malden if she could. 

She finally moved and raised her head to meet Morwen's gaze. Her eyes were moist, and she swallowed her sadness as best she could.

“I'm scared.” A tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't want to say goodbye because that would mean we won't see each other again. "

“But Kae.” He put his hand on her shoulder and with his other hand wiped away the tear running down her cheek. “We'll see each other again. Come on, give your favorite adoptive father a big hug.”

Kaelin hugged the man she considered her real father tightly, putting all her feelings into it. It wasn't goodbye, but a “see you tomorrow.” 

After several long minutes, the two broke apart, exchanging one last look and one last smile before Kaelin walked out the door. She rejoined her division, located not far from Port Enanta, which was setting out on horseback to return to the epicenter of the battle: Ground 11. 

The journey took several hours, but the kingdoms of Malden and Valrosse were not huge, and Valrosse was smaller than Malden, so it was easier to get around. 

Kaelin dismounted her horse and finally arrived at the watchtower closest to Ground 11. It was the largest tower in Valrosse and one of the latest technological and architectural achievements built during the war. Towering several meters above the battlefields, and despite Malden also having its own towers that were just as impressive, this tower was still the pride of the Valrossians.

With one hand shielding her eyes from the sun, Kaelin thought one last time of Morwen, then of Noé, and then put on her war mask.

It was time to fight.

And to think of nothing else.

Chapter Text

The battle had been raging for nearly three hours, and Sol was defending himself incredibly well. This was probably due to the fact that he had received excellent training because of his status as a prince. He even wondered regularly what Valrosse was like and whether their society was just as unfair. 

Valrosse was also defending itself very well, however. Not only were they fast, but they also showed great intelligence. The blond could see this very clearly in the way they defended themselves. What the nobles said was completely false. Valrosse was just as advanced as Malden, despite the few extra pieces of land they possessed. 

The soldiers fought fiercely on both sides, with no one willing to give up, and everyone knew that this was a decisive battle before a well-deserved ceasefire. 

Sol concentrated again. He had just narrowly missed an attack by a Valrossian soldier, and he could clearly see from his brother's expression that this had greatly annoyed him. “Do our family proud. You are a prince,” he insisted constantly. This was one of the reasons why Sol was even less inclined to listen to him. So he usually decided to do as he pleased, even if it meant narrowly escaping death every other time.

Another sword strike attacked his left flank, and he dodged it with a graceful side step, which finally made Thibalt turn his gaze back to him. The warriors facing them knew exactly who they were on either side. The Riven brothers, or the Riven princes, were known not only for their royal status but also for their innate combat skills. 

Sol was certainly better at fighting than his brother, but he was so inattentive and lacking in strategy that he seemed much weaker than his sibling. 

The blond began to attack more fiercely, his light gray eyes reflecting the red blood of the men who had fallen during the battle. As he blamed himself for each of his people he had been unable to save, a noise caught his attention. 

Further away, his men were falling one after another so quickly that it almost resembled a rain of blood and despair. Horrified to see all these losses, Sol began to search for who could be responsible for this massacre. 

As he couldn't find the source of the disaster, more men were falling: cut in half, stabbed in the chest, knocked out by a huge blow, and more. 

Then she appeared before his eyes.

Her black hair, though quite short, blew in the wind, and even from such a distance, her blue eyes shone through the smoke of war. She was so beautiful. And so cruel. Sol wondered who she was. Who on earth could this sublime Valrossian warrior be?

“Sol! Focus!” Thibalt shouted loudly. "What the hell are you doing? "

Sol felt a blade pass a few inches from his abdomen. He narrowly avoided it again and retaliated by delivering the fatal blow to his opponent. His patience was truly at its limit, and between his brother's remarks and this surprising young woman who was decimating his army, nothing was going right. 

He began to counterattack, slowly closing in on the raven-haired woman who moved like a cat in all directions without seeming to be disturbed by anything in her environment. 

Sol attacked, slashed, destroyed. He had more brute strength and less grace than she did, but he was strong, very strong, and he intended to confront this young woman who was killing his own people. Slowly making his way through, he approached to get a closer look at the young soldier's macabre dance.

As he approached, he noticed that she was quite tall and must have been his age, or perhaps a year or two younger. Her body was mostly covered in thick armor, just like his, and she wielded a very thin sword that she swung with impressive ease. 

Another Valrossian lunged at Sol, knocking him to the ground with a backhand. His rage grew; she was killing more and seemed so far away from Sol that it drove him mad. He had to reach her, he had to kill her. She had to die, that was how it was. 

It was him or her. In this war, there was no room for both of them. 

When he finally managed to get close to her, a loud noise came crashing down on the battlefield and pushed Sol forward, who was still in the throes of his rage. He suddenly found himself close to the woman. As he drew his sword, ready to plunge it into the brunette's chest, another loud noise erupted on the battlefield.

Bombs.

Bombs were exploding everywhere.

Minefields, to be exact. 

Sol began to boil with rage. Those infamous Valrossians had laid minefields. Were they incapable of fighting fairly? He continued to ask himself a thousand questions until his hatred subsided slightly when he saw the look on the brunette's face as she discovered the bombs. 

She hadn't known about them either.

Someone had planted those mines, but no one had warned them. Sol almost regretted accusing Valrosse, but he swallowed his words. No, it was all their fault. They had to stop this conflict, but they kept going. They were no better than his father, mother, and brother. 

“NOE!” The brunette started screaming at the top of her lungs. 

Sol's curiosity was piqued until he looked in the same direction as her. A man was lying on the ground, covered in blood and wounded all over. A kind of black smoke covered his body, and he was coughing as best he could, spitting up blood at the same time. 

Was it her boyfriend? Sol wondered for a second before drawing her weapon and attacking the young woman beside her, who was responsible for all the recent deaths of Maldenians in this area. 

But she was quick. She rolled to the side, avoiding the attack, and violently pushed him back, sending him reeling. It wasn't necessarily brute strength but rather technique that made her so agile and strong. Sol was less skilled, there was no denying it. He was facing a true prodigy. One that you only meet once in a lifetime. 

“You're not going to get away that easily!” Sol shouted angrily, but Kaelin wasn't listening to him, her gaze still fixed on the redhead a few steps away from them. “Come back!”

Kaelin had moved away and in an instant was already several steps away from Sol. She was getting away from him, which was not good; he had to catch up with her as quickly as possible. If she escaped, he would never be able to avenge his people and would regret it for the rest of his life. 

He began to run desperately after her, seeing her move away even faster than he could catch up with her, each step taking her further away. But who on earth was this woman, or rather, this invincible warrior? 

He saw her heading straight for the redhead lying on the ground, seriously wounded. As he rushed to catch up with her, he saw her nod to another Valrossian soldier and turn directly toward Sol. The other soldier carried the man on the ground away, and even though his wounds were numerous, he was moaning and therefore showing signs of life. 

Sol understood that the man was out of danger and that this woman's next target was himself.

Chapter Text

Kaelin stared at the man standing across from her in the distance. Clearly very interested in her existence, he had tried to kill her several times. 

Noé had captured Kaelin's full attention, and until she was sure he was okay, no one would approach her, and she would not let anyone touch her. One of the soldiers in her division, Jacob, if she remembered correctly, had grabbed Noé over his shoulder, and as he prepared to leave with him to take him back to camp and treat him, the redhead began to moan a few words.

“Kae...” He began to cough up blood and, groaning, finished his sentence. “Watch out for him.” He pointed to the tall blond man in the distance who had tried to assassinate Kaelin several times already. ”He's the prince of Malden. He's very strong, and he'll want your blood for the soldiers you killed."

Kae ran her hand over her friend's cheek and gave him a tender smile before signaling to Jacob to leave. She then raised her sword, pointing it at the blond man in front of her as a sign of war. With a cold stare and icy blue eyes, Kae opened the fight with a simple question. 

“What is your name?”

“You don't know the name of the Prince of Malden?”

“I don't care about your status.” She paused. “What is your name?”

Sol let out a slight gasp of surprise. It had been many years since he had met someone so nonchalant and so far removed from royal etiquette as she was. Was it because she was born into a more modest family, or because she simply didn't care? It must be said that it was difficult to gauge her status beneath her powerful armor. 

She reminded him of her. And she had been gone for many years.

Sol swallowed his memories and positioned himself to parry a first attack as Kaelin closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. He had just dodged a powerful attack that would probably have severed the arm of most of the soldiers in his army. 

“Sol.” He said breathlessly as he parried another attack and tried to strike back. 

“Sol.” She repeated in a hollow voice, her expression as cold as it always was when she fought. As she liked to say, a good soldier is a soldier who doesn't let his emotions get in the way of combat. He meant nothing to her, but she had probably heard of him given his status as a prince. “Say goodbye to life, Sol.”

Sol parried another blow that struck his forehead. Their swords were locked together, and the blow sent the prince flying, crashing to the ground as Kaelin stood over him, sword in hand, ready to deliver the final blow.

“And you? What's your name?”

Caught off guard, Kaelin faltered, and Sol took advantage of this to pin her to the ground, grabbing her wrists with one hand and blocking her legs with the other. 

This was problematic, very problematic indeed. In terms of fighting skill, Kaelin was clearly superior, but when it came to brute strength, he was far ahead of her. The brunette couldn't move, and as he slowly brought the blade closer to her throat and she struggled with all her might, she couldn't break free from his grip. 

“Kaelin!” she shouted as a drop of blood ran down her neck. “My name is Kaelin Altherya.” 

She took advantage of Sol's surprise to break free from his grip. Wiping the blood from her neck, she grabbed Ena, who had fallen to the ground when Sol had pinned her down. 

He didn't have to remember or know why, but that name resonated with him. He knew something. She meant something to him. 

She raised her sword and got into position to attack.

Why couldn't he remember a certain Altherya? Who could she be? 

She rushed towards him with confidence. She would avenge them, she would avenge them all.

Kaelin... Kaelin Altherya…

She plunged her sword into his right side and with a shrill cry, Sol fell to the ground, a pool of blood forming beside him. 

He didn't know who she was, but she was a murderer and, above all, an enemy, and she had to be eliminated. He had been distracted, and even though the wound didn't seem deep, it would probably take him a few days to recover. 

Holding his wound tightly with one hand, he stood up and took up a defensive stance facing the young woman, ready to fight, and raised his sword. If she wanted to fight, he would respond, and he would not be the loser. 

But they were interrupted by the powerful sound of metal clashing with such force that all the people seemed to have stopped fighting on the battlefield. 

Thibalt Riven faced Morwen Castemar. The Maldenian crown prince faced the greatest Valrossian fighter this war had ever known. 

Kaelin felt her emotions resurface and her mask of cold warrior became almost impossible to wear. 

Sol was all the more unsettled to see this heroine so disturbed by another man's fight. Was this the moment to counterattack and finally finish her off? Yet, without knowing why, his feet remained glued to the ground, unable to move. It was as if she surrounded him. This young woman with such dark hair and such clear eyes.

“Father!”

It was rare for her to call him that. Most of the time she just called him Morwen and stuck to his first name, but today everything seemed different. The exceptional warrior, Valrosse's weapon, was afraid of losing her one and only father, the very man who had saved her from the darkness of a past that haunted her. 

Kaelin began to run with all her might and rushed towards the two men who were fighting with such breathtaking force that even she could not compete. So this was the true strength of Morwen Castemar and Thibalt Riven. 

Yet she had heard that Thibalt was surpassed by his brother, the one she had finally faced a few minutes ago.  She concluded that he was probably not defending himself to the best of his ability.

But his brother was.

And Morwen was facing this monster with such a dark gaze that she could almost see all the memories of her brothers and sisters who had fallen in battle. 

Thibalt was known for his infinite cruelty, while his brother was gentler and more compassionate, and that was probably what Morwen was now discovering as he faced the worthy heir to the throne of Malden.

A sword strike. Parried. Another sword strike lower. Dodged. Another one. Narrowly missed. Morwen was weakening and Thibalt was becoming more and more agile. Where had his former agility and mastery of the sword gone? 

He had left her everything, and that was what mattered.

He had passed on to her, with his tears, sweat, and blood, his love, strength, and kindness. 

Morwen Castemar had made Kaelin Altherya the worthy heir to his talent and his beloved daughter. 

And he loved her more than anything else in the world.

He felt another blow as he already felt blood running down his arm and both legs. He heard Kaelin scream and tried to get closer, pushing his way through the Maldenian guards who were holding him back. 

Then he heard her cry until her voice gave out. 

Kaelin began to sob again and again as she tried as best she could to reach her father, who was fighting a prince who sneered with delight with every blow his sword sank into his opponent's body. 

And Kaelin cried again and again. Again and again.

Sol tried to approach, but his body was powerless in the face of the distress and melancholy unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't move, and he had given up. She made him feel sorry for her. She who had killed dozens of his brothers in arms before his eyes, she who had watched Thibalt slaughter her father with a smile on his lips and a tortured look of happiness on his face.

“I see that Morwen Castemar no longer has her former grace.”

“I have passed it on to someone else.”

Thibalt flinched at this last remark as Morwen knelt down to the soft music of her daughter's sobs. He glanced quickly at the girl crying a few steps away from them, then looked away again, uninterested. 

“I have no interest in a child with no future.”

“That's where you're wrong.”

Morwen smiled and raised his head toward his opponent, kneeling on the ground. Blood flowed from his mouth and a tear ran down his cheek. He turned his head for a moment toward Kaelin, who was still screaming and struggling. He refocused his gaze on his opponent. 

“That girl is my sunshine, and she will be your downfall.”

Thibalt plunged his sword into Morwen's chest. Morwen spat out a final gush of blood before collapsing to the ground with a shrill crash, echoing with cries and far too many memories. 

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since the ceasefire began, and the silence in the Maldenian capital was oppressive. Osleanos was known for being a lively and joyful capital, but for the past few days, the silence had been heavy and very difficult to bear. 

Merchants sold their wares silently, and villagers shopped calmly, seeming to prefer nods to their usual boisterous greetings. 

Sol felt the same way.

He mourned the deaths of his companions, even though it seemed to delight his brother, who was filled with shameful pride at having killed Valrosse's greatest warrior. Sol hated his brother even more; he hated everything about him. He hated this war and everyone who took part in it. 

He hated the girl he couldn't get out of his head.

He hated himself.

“It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?” Sol's mother looked at him haughtily. 

“Of course, Mother.”

"My son, I see that you've been distracted lately, yet we are in happy times. “ She adjusted her umbrella to further shield her gray eyes from the sun's glare. ”You should be proud of your brother. Perhaps one day you will achieve such feats yourself."

Sol hoped not. He hoped that their toxicity would never reach his heart, still protected by the barriers he had built.

“I hope so too.” 

The queen smiled at him and tilted her head, pushing back her blonde locks and stepping forward as her huge dress trailed behind her. 

 “Oh, and I heard that General Montclair is looking for you. You should go find her.”

Sol nodded and, after a slight bow, turned on his heel to join the woman who was perhaps one of the only people he still trusted.

And hoped for. 

Her world was spinning. Her head was spinning. Her memories were tangled. 

Morwen was dead, and with him, her health had vanished in a cloud of madness and sadness so great that she could no longer sleep. 

That day, Kaelin had seen her world waver, and nothing had tasted good to her since those events. Not even Noé's delicious meals or Mrs. Lucia's fresh bread. Nothing. 

Her hatred consumed her, and only revenge helped her get up in the morning and not let herself waste away in this now silent house.

Kaelin had returned to Port Enanta, and despite Noé's numerous offers to take her on a trip to the capital to take her mind off things, she had refused them all. Not even the beautiful beaches of Valeth interested her anymore. Nothing made her feel alive anymore. Kaelin had died with Morwen, and what remained of her was nothing more than an empty, lifeless shell. 

“Kae!” Noé had just walked through the door and stopped Kaelin in her favorite activity of the last few days: staring out the window and doing nothing.  “Today we're going for a walk.”

 “I don't feel like it, Noé.”

 "I'll make you feel like it. "

“You're wasting your time.”  

Noé plucked up her courage and took her friend's hand.

“Please.”

Kaelin looked at her hand in Noé's and sighed loudly before sighing again and getting up. 

“All right,” she said.

Noé took her to all four corners of the city. Even though she knew this city inside and out, Noé always told himself that Port Enanta had surprises in store for them every day. But his joy dried up every time he saw Kaelin take Ena with her out of superstition or fear.

It must be said that the town was almost as sad as she was. The villagers dragged their feet and Madame Lucia baked her bread with a small tear that she brushed away with her hand. Even more than the death of their brothers and sisters, the Valrossians mourned the death of their hero, who had left them far too soon. 

This war was just an excuse to enrich the nobles, who used their power to destroy what others would acquire by force for them. Sadness and melancholy sang the words of a hymn that was whistled silently in Port Enanta and in all the towns of the kingdom. 

Night finally fell. Noé didn't feel like he had been able to cheer Kaelin up, yet he knew how hard he tried every day, and he tried again. While his own wounds had mostly healed, Kaelin's seemed to reopen with every step.  

“Would you like to have dinner at my place?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“Of course not.”

And while life roared in Noé's house, where his two sisters bustled about alongside their parents, Kaelin thought of her broken heart and the silence of her own home when she returned. 

Noé and she sat down on the small terrace of the house to watch the stars tickling the sky in a peace that the young woman envied. Everything was too quiet. He had to pay, they all had to pay, and even if madness took over, she had to avenge Morwen.

“Noé.”

“Hm?”

“I'm going to get revenge.”

Noé stood up abruptly and looked at the young woman standing beside him.  

“What? You know revenge is pointless.”

“It will ease my heart. Revenge.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Noé.” Kaelin turned her attention to the redhead and warm tears streamed down her cheeks. She gave Noé her first smile in a long time.

“I'm going to kill Thibalt Riven. That’s my decision and you won’t make me change my mind.”

Selhara Montclair was a unique woman. Not only because of her prowess in combat, but also because of her ability to lead troops of hundreds of soldiers with an iron fist. Sol knew this very well, but that wasn't why he admired her so much. 

“How are you?” the young woman asked Sol with a slight smile on her lips and sincerity in her eyes. “You can tell me what you think.”

Sol hesitated for a moment. She was the general of the kingdom's army, so she could have been the first person he would have distrusted. However, that was not the case. He trusted her just as she trusted him.

“I can't forget that moment.” He looked into the distance and, surprisingly, didn't mention Kaelin, who had been on his mind for several days. “The moment when Thibalt finished him off.”

“It's a moment you don't forget, Sol.” She put her hand on the blond man's shoulder and looked into the distance. Her milk chocolate brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. “War is not something you forget, especially moments like that. Especially when they are so violent and the perpetrator rejoices in them.” She emphasized her point strongly.

Malden had been completely calm for the past few days, and no one seemed happy. The pain of the losses had overshadowed the joy of Thibalt's small victory.

“I shouldn't. I should be happy, shouldn't I?” 

"You have to be yourself, Sol. There are no rules. If this event has affected you, then it's justified. It’s ok, Sol."

This time, Sol clenched his fist. It was the beginning of a dream that rang in his head with a sense of forbiddenness. He was sad. He was deeply sad for this young woman with ocean eyes and raven hair. Why? Only the gods knew. 

“Why did you call me?” He changed the subject, feeling too bad to talk about it any longer.

“To see how you're doing.” She stood up. “And because it's time for training, kid!”

Sol had always been surprised by the way she spoke to him, almost like a mother to her son, even though the age difference between them wasn't that great. Selhara was approaching thirty, while Sol was only in his early twenties. Nevertheless, Selhara was like a big sister to him, and almost like a mother, given how little presence and love his own mother had offered him during his childhood. 

Sol drew his weapon and tried once again to chase away the ghost that haunted him.

The ghost of a beautiful woman with bobbed hair and the father she had just lost.

Chapter Text

Bedtime was always the worst time for Sol. Not only had he always had great difficulty sleeping, but he was also quite active by nature, and this hyperactivity kept him awake. Let's just say that it wasn't really a case of insomnia, but rather that he could sleep, but mostly during the day. 

“You're not focused, Sol!” Selhara snapped, her emerald eyes hardening the graceful features of her face. “Stand up straight, puff out your chest, and hold your sword higher. You know the basics!”

The general was rather gentle when Sol needed to confide in her, but when it came to training, she was always true to herself and very demanding. If Sol was her little protégé, making him stronger was her way of nurturing him. The blond-haired boy was a talented warrior, and every day he impressed her a little more. 

He was Malden's hope, she often repeated to him after training.

But after seeing her, he wondered if she wasn't Valrosse's hope and he was simply her next enemy to be defeated. 

He got into position and repositioned his sword more in front of him and turned to attack Selhara. This time it was a better attempt. The young woman narrowly dodged and grabbed the tip of Sol's sword with her gloved hand to make it aim more to the right.

“This is where you need to aim. Do you understand?”

Sol nodded and took up his position again. He raised his sword and attacked.

Kaelin had surprisingly been able to close her eyes that night, and although her sleep had been very short, it had been surprisingly restorative. 

She got up and the cold air came in through the window she had forgotten to close the night before, slapping her cheeks. As she closed the window, she saw Noé in the distance, still sitting on the edge of his terrace, dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't moved an inch since she had left him there the night before. Kaelin felt guilty for a moment and tried to chase the thought away. She had told him what she thought and what her goal was, even though he didn't agree with it. 

It didn't matter after all, nothing mattered anymore. 

Without Morwen, her life had a bitter taste. 

Kaelin got dressed and ate the few leftovers she had from the night before. She had gone to bed so late that it was already past noon. She still remembered sitting on her bed for several hours, staring into space, her thoughts tangled. She still remembered Noé's reaction and his tears.

She couldn't forget Noé's tears or her own, nor the disgusting look of joy on the face of that horrible tyrant, Thibalt. Her eyes filled with tears again, and Kaelin swallowed them back with difficulty.

Please, Noé, understand me, she thought.

But Noé understood perfectly well; he just thought it wasn't the solution, and that's what he had told her last night. That's what he had told her, trembling and panicked, a drop of sweat running down his forehead along with the tear in his right eye.

“It's not a solution, Kae! You know that!”

“There's nothing I know except that I have to kill him, and you have to accept that.”

“I can't accept you being a murderer.”

“Noé, look at me.” Kaelin had stopped crying and stood up straight in front of him, looking at her hands before locking her gaze with the redhead's. “My hands are already stained with Maldenian blood.” She approached and cupped her hand on her friend's cheek. “I've been a murderer for a long time now.”

“Kaelin... The war is making you say crazy things, you know that! We're all like this, but you know it's just... everything. Everything is crazy. This war is corrupting us all.”

“This war is my salvation. I don't care what happens to me anymore. It may be the last thing I want to accomplish before I die—”

“Die? Are you listening to yourself?!” He grabbed the girl's hand from his cheek and pulled it away violently before finally holding it in the palm of his own. “You're twenty years old! You have your whole life ahead of you! You can't die! You don't want to die!”

Kaelin didn't answer and pulled her hand away from her friend's grip, giving him one last sad smile before uttering one final sentence and leaving. 

“If you can't accept it, maybe it's better if we spend some time apart.”

With these words, she walked away and left the terrace of the Vôllsters, leaving her friend tortured by a decision over which he had no control and which could cause the loss of his best friend.

The day passed slowly, and even though her nightmares continued day and night, Kaelin had found a way to ease her pain: preparing her revenge. So she set about finding out how to cross the Valrossian border before reaching Malden and infiltrating the capital. 

“You'll have to cross Ground 11.”

“Is there no other way?”

“Do I look like I know more?”

Kaelin quickly gave up on this man, who clearly seemed unreliable, and after hours of searching for information, night was already falling. She decided to give up for the day and resume her search the next day when she was interrupted by a little girl passing by.

“Miss.” She started pulling on Kae's pants, which annoyed her.

“Hey! Stop it, won’t you?”

“I know how to get to Malden.”

“A kid like you knows how to get to the enemy kingdom when we're at war?”

“I heard my father say that if you go through the mountains opposite Solyus in the kingdom of Malden, you can find a hole in the mountains that connects to Valrosse.”

Kaelin grabbed the girl's arm and suddenly crouched down, then took her into a small alleyway to be more quiet. She crouched down again and stood facing the entrance to the street to block the passage of anyone who might arrive. 

“Are you sure about this?”

“My father said so.”

“Your father isn't a great god.”

“My father is a former Maldenian.”

Kaelin gasped in surprise and abruptly let go of the little girl, who rubbed her arm where the brunette had been holding her.

“Could you introduce me to him... your father?”

The little girl nodded and motioned for the brunette to follow her. Hesitantly, Kaelin did so, following a child down an unfamiliar path with the faint hope of leaving Valrosse and avenging the man who had always been the sunshine in her life. 

The road was long. Kaelin and the girl crossed a large part of Port Enanta, and the further they went, the more Kaelin wondered why she had followed this mysterious child who seemed to know exactly what she was doing. 

And what could a child be doing alone at such an hour, without any supervision, in a small port town where bandits roamed at night?

“Be careful, kid.”

“Are you worried about me?”

“Of course, you're what... five years old?”

“Six years old.”

“Yes, it makes a big difference…” The brunette scratched her head nervously. “What's a child like you doing out at this hour?”

“Dad's sick, so he lets me help him by buying necessities.” The child showed her a small canvas bag she was carrying on her left shoulder, which was almost as tall as she was. "By the way, I'm Mia. What's your name?"

“Kaelin, but you can call me Kae.” The brunette found herself smiling at Mia's words as she gave her a big smile, her beautiful honey-colored hair blowing in the wind and her hazel eyes sparkling. 

“We're here.” Mia stopped and pointed to a small, very old and dilapidated house. “Welcome to my home.”

Chapter Text

When Kaelin stepped through the doorway, she found herself in a dimly lit, small room with a small bed and a larger bed in the distance. A fireplace provided light for the room, and in an old rocking chair sat a frail man wrapped in a thick blanket and several layers of clothing.

He looked extremely tired and ill. It was a good start; Mia was telling the truth about her father's illness.

“He-hello,” Kaelin stammered, suddenly embarrassed to find herself in a house where she had been invited by only a six-year-old child.

"Oh, Mia! I told you to be careful with strangers and stop wanting to play with just anyone. Excuse me, miss, but—"

“She wants to go to Malden.”

The man stopped short as if something had stung him. He tried to get up, but it made him groan in pain, and his daughter rushed to help him back into his chair. 

He sighed softly and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again to stare at Kaelin, who was confused and didn't know what to do. She wondered if she should go home and forget everything she had just seen. 

“My name is Osric Valebright, and this is my daughter Mia.” 

Kaelin scrutinized the man's appearance, surprised to discover that he was probably not that old. Probably younger than Morwen. His illness made him look older, and his tired eyes exuded a sincerity that put her surprisingly at ease. His dark blond hair, tinged with a honey color, was the same as his daughter's, as were his sparkling hazel eyes, which brought out what little life there was in him.

Osric shifted slightly to face the young girl. Mia had sat down on his lap and was slowly falling asleep.

“Kaelin. Kaelin Altherya.”

“Your face looks familiar, but your name doesn't ring a bell. Anyway, let's move on.” He ran a hand through his daughter's hair. "I apologize for the way I'm receiving you, but as you can see, I'm very ill. "

He motioned for her to sit down on a chair facing him. Kaelin complied in deep silence, looking around her. The cottage was small but surprisingly warm and welcoming. 

“If my daughter is right, you want to go to Malden, don't you?”

“Do you really know how to get there?” 

“I am a former Maldenian who fled his kingdom. My daughter must have told you that to convince you to come here.”

Kaelin nodded, and Osric calmly continued.

"Malden is not a peaceful kingdom. It is a kingdom of hatred, and one that lost all its color long ago.” He paused again, looking into the distance. Kaelin wondered if he was holding back tears or anger. ”Do you know Thibalt Riven?"

Kaelin jumped up, knocking over her chair with a crash, followed by an almost awkward silence.

“Thibalt Riven is my father's murderer.” 

Osric looked at her with such sincerity that she felt as if the man's soul was touching hers. He motioned for her to come closer, and she did. 

On the thigh of a sick man weakened by life and by a nation that had lost its former glory slept a little girl with her whole future ahead of her. Osric took Kaelin in his arms, and while the embrace surprised the girl as much as it touched her, new silent tears ran down her dry cheeks, burning her few scars. 

“Listen to me, my child. Five years ago, Thibalt Riven did something that turned my life into hell. A hell that forced Mia and me to flee Malden when she was only one year old.”

The two broke their embrace and looked at each other seriously. Kaelin sat back down in her chair, and Osric continued his story.

"Amber was my wife's name. She was a beautiful woman with a heart of gold, and her very existence made every second of my life a real joy. In the past, when we still lived in Solyus, I was a painter and was quite well known for my work. My life was happy, and our family lived largely off my passion.” He ran his hand through his daughter's hair. ”One day, a man came to commission a painting that I was to create for the royal family. However, the painting was so complex that the time I had been given was not enough, and I did not finish it on time. "

Kaelin hung on his every word, anxious to hear the rest of the story. She was so absorbed by Osric's words that she forgot she was currently in the home of a complete stranger in the middle of the night. 

“Thibalt Riven came to our house. He came all this way to tell us that we would all be punished for this affront to the royal family.” Osric's voice broke and his gaze wavered. “He took my wife, and I had to flee with our daughter.” His voice broke even more, and melancholy took hold of his words. “I don't know where my wife is, and since he threatened to take my daughter, I had to flee. During our escape, I injured myself and the wound became infected. That's why I'm in this condition.”

Osric then lifted his shirt to reveal a wound that had turned purple, indicating that a large wound was still raw and had never been treated.

Kaelin wanted to rush over and offer his help, to tell him that she knew someone who could treat him, someone who would help him immediately. But that someone was no longer there, and that someone would not be coming back.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Before that, tell me why you want to go to Malden, my child.”

“I want to kill Thibalt Riven.”

The man lowered his head and nodded in agreement with Kaelin. 

"We have the same goal, and I will do everything in my power to find my wife and get revenge. But beware, Malden is a much harsher nation than Valrosse. The king and queen there are much crueler than our Valrossian leaders. The society is not the same, and if you don't follow local customs, they will easily spot that you are not Maldenian."

“Please help me.”

That was all it took. Osric agreed to give her the information he had about Malden and the path that connected the two kingdoms through a small cave east of Solyus. He and Kaelin agreed to meet again the next day to discuss the customs and traditions of Malden. 

This meeting marked the beginning of her revenge, and as she returned home, Malden had no idea what was coming. Malden did not know that one of Valrosse's best warriors was after one of its leaders. 

Thibalt did not know that Kaelin would not stop there. 

Chapter Text

Sol had taken refuge in training. He trained day and night, and Selhara was beginning to seriously worry about his health. Sol trained so hard because he couldn't forget Kaelin, and Sol's inability to forget Kaelin was a real problem for him and everyone around him. That was precisely why he had decided to devote himself to the most physically demanding activities possible, which would take up all his time.  

When darkness fell on Malden, Osleanos grew dark and the castle gradually fell asleep. But Sol did not sleep. Every night, he waited, looking at the stars and wondering if one of them was the father of this girl he knew nothing about. He wondered if each of these stars represented his people, whom he loved so much, and if they were watching him here, powerless, gazing at the sky without doing anything to calm this war. 

Sol was sorry. He was fully aware of his parents' actions, his mother's cruelty, and his father's greed. He knew that their pursuit of power did not justify Valrosse's barbaric acts, but that they were probably more responsible for starting this eleventh conflict than the neighboring kingdom. 

Malden had not been at peace for many years, and every Valrossian was fully aware of this. 

Sitting by his window for hours now, he returned to his tastefully and luxuriously decorated bedroom. All this luxury, all this money, he didn't care about any of it. 

“Damn war!” he hissed, throwing a statuette worth easily a hundred thousand gold coins to the floor. 

Fortunately, the sound of the explosion didn't bring anyone back, but it did bring him back to his senses, and as he picked up the remains of the statuette, he cut his palm slightly. Blood flowed from his hand, and in the silence, he could only relive the atrocities of war over and over again. 

He was strong, or at least he was supposed to be, so why did it haunt him so much?

In front of him, a full-length mirror reflected his image: a tall man with messy blond hair and gray eyes so light they appeared almost white, and a multitude of scars on his body. The scars defined him, and he would not have wanted to get rid of them for anything in the world, but tonight, the sight of them was unbearable.

Sol decided to go to sleep, and sleep overtook him, followed by blood-tinged nightmares in his dance. 

The next day, Sol decided to go back to training with Selhara. His day today would surely be exactly the same as yesterday. 

He got up with difficulty, still tired from going to bed late. He put on his shirt and winced at the feel of the fabric on his new scars. He would never get used to it. 

His room was located at the southern end of Osleanos Castle, which was perhaps the best decision his mother had ever made. “You go to bed too late and you'll wake us up. You can join us in the north wing when you start sleeping at a more reasonable hour.” The only downside was that he had to constantly cross the entire castle to get to the training area.

“Mr. Sol, you look radiant today!” Mrs. Ellen said in her usual sing-song voice as she saw the young man pass by. “Oh, wait, if you don't mind!” She approached him and smoothed back some of his tousled hair on top of his head.

Mrs. Ellen was the head maid at the castle and ran her work with an iron fist. Along with Selhara, Ellen was one of the people Sol was closest to. 

Ellen was a woman of a certain age, very petite with graying hair, but with a smile that didn't age a day as the years passed. She was infinitely gentle. 

"Mr. Sol, I'd better warn you today that Mr. Thibalt is training with Ms. Selhara. " Another reason Sol liked Ellen so much was that she could read him like an open book and always helped him limit his interactions with his brother.

“Thank you, Ellen. But I need to train. The ceasefire won't last forever. I have to be ready.”

"Of course, sir. I wish you the best of luck. "

Sol saluted Ms. Ellen and continued on his way to the training grounds, taking with him uncertainty and anxiety, knowing that his brother would be joining him today. 

Indeed, Ellen was right. In the midst of a multitude of royal knights stood Thibalt, fighting against a Selhara with clenched fists. 

Sol didn't really know how Selhara viewed his brother, but he suspected that she didn't hold him in very high esteem. However upright she might be, the cruelty of the crown prince was well known and no secret to anyone. 

But there was another variable to consider. 

“I see you are still as sublime as ever when you fight, Miss Montclair.”

And that was Thibalt's interest in Selhara and the fact that he would do anything to get her attention. It was impossible, even for a high-ranking general like Selhara, to refuse the advances of the prince of her kingdom. 

“Thank you, Your Majesty. However, I am not on your level.”

Thinalt chuckled and turned his head to brush away the strands of hair that were hiding his eyes. As he turned his head, he saw his brother leaning against a stone column, so his discreet entrance had completely failed.

“Sol! How are you on this beautiful day full of sunshine and good news?”

“What good news?” the younger brother asked, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, come on, be positive. You know your beloved brother always has excellent news!” Thibalt announced with a laugh, then walked over to Sol and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. “It has been decided that the ceasefire will only last two weeks instead of a month. Are we going to counterattack?” 

“Are we going to break the pact?!”

“There is no pact that holds in times of war, my dear brother.”

Sol clenched his fist so tightly that a few drops of blood trickled from his hand. Selhara noticed immediately and rushed to stand between Sol and her brother, acting as if nothing had happened. With a big smile on his face, the younger brother was surprised at how good an actress she still was. 

"Your Majesty, I suggest we continue training! We must be ready in two weeks; time flies. "

“You're right, Selhara.” Thibalt smiled as he ran his hand through his hair. He took one last look at his brother, who hadn't moved an inch from where he was standing. “You're too soft-hearted for this world, my dear Sol. It will be your downfall.”

That was too much for Sol. Way too much. 

“Face me.” Thibalt turned around, curious and surprisingly very interested. “Face me,” Sol repeated confidently. “Since you're so strong, show me the results of your training with General Montclair, but if I win, you'll agree to talk to Father and Mother about not breaking the ceasefire pact.”

“You are very bold,” replied the elder, his dark eyes revealing the darkness in his heart. “But that's what I like about you, my dear brother. En garde!” 

Chapter Text

Every day for the past three days, Kaelin had been visiting Osric, who was teaching her a little more about Maldenian customs. Kaelin was surprised not only that the customs of the neighboring kingdom were so similar to her own, but also that the Maldenians were clearly not the horrible people rumored to be in Valrosse.

As Osric explained so well, he missed his friends and family, and even though he had been forced to flee Malden not only because the royal family had a very negative influence on its people, corrupting them with greed and violence, he missed his kingdom. 

Osric also told Kaelin what Solyus was like. It was the closest city to Ground 11, a very pretty city much smaller than Osleanos, the capital, but quieter and, given its proximity to Valrosse, located east of Malden, it was the closest city to Valrossian customs. Solyus was also the smallest city in the area, mainly centered around the trade of its inhabitants, who were mostly artists of all kinds. 

“When you arrive in Solyus, you will surely be warmly welcomed by its inhabitants, but beware of the royalists—they could denounce you if they have the slightest doubt about who you are or what you are doing,” Osric explained, brushing back one of his long blond locks that had fallen onto his shoulder. “If anyone asks where you're from, say you're from Highven, the second largest city after Osleanos. It's located west of Solyus and north of the capital. It's a big city, so no one will bother you about where you're from, and it's far enough away from Solyus.”

“There you go!” Mia arrived, placing two cups of tea in front of the two adults sitting on chairs facing each other. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Mia,” said Kaelin, rubbing the top of her head, which made the child smile. “What about my name and my job?”

“You can give your real name. No one knows you yet, and everyone has Morwen's name on their minds. Fortunately, you don't have the same last name.” Osric paused, looking a little sorry for his last words, and placed his hand on Kaelin's knee in a gesture of support. “For your profession, you'll say you're a traveling reader. You know how to read, right?”

“Yes, of course, but is “traveling reader” a profession?”

“Here, finally, is a bigger difference between Malden and Valrosse. Access to education is more complex in Malden. For example, I'm the one teaching Mia to read, but not everyone knows how to read, which is why the citizens of Malden often call on readers to read books, newspapers, articles, or anything else that requires the ability to read. You can also make a little money this way."

Kaelin nodded and sighed loudly, a little stressed, which made Osric laugh.

“I can see you're stressed, my child, but you have confidence in yourself. We'll get there together. I promise you that.”

“How will we communicate?”

“We'll use carrier pigeons to send letters, as they already do in Valrosse.”

Kaelin agreed, and the evening passed quietly. She had gotten into the habit of having lunch with the Valebright family and always brought back some of Mrs. Lucia's delicious bread and a bouquet of flowers for Osric, who, despite his illness, always did his best to help Kaelin prepare and give her all the information she needed. 

Noé regularly saw Kaelin walking past his house and leaving hers with a bouquet of flowers and bread. He probably wondered if she had drowned her sorrow in a meaningless infatuation that would surely pass quickly. Noé was probably a little jealous that the brunette's attention was no longer focused on him. But Noé forgave her because he knew full well that Kaelin was not well, and if this was how she wanted to ease her pain, then so be it.

Noé missed Kaelin, and Kaelin missed Noé too, but she had other things on her mind. Morwen was a greater pain than anything else going on around her, and if that meant continuing to ignore her best friend if he didn't want to help her, then so be it. She knew that one day, no matter what happened, they would find each other again and be able to regain their former closeness.

Kaelin returned home a few hours after finishing dinner with the Valebright family, and once she arrived, all the fatigue she had accumulated over the last few days suddenly vanished. It was as if nothing had happened; Kaelin was in great shape. She first thought about getting some fresh air, but suspected that Noé would be there. She wanted to jot down some ideas for her plan in a notebook, but her thoughts weren't clear, so she ended up just sitting on her bed. 

Her house was very small. It was a kind of cottage with a small bedroom for her, while Morwen slept in a bed in the living room. They were not rich, far from it; they lived modestly but well enough that Kaelin never wanted for anything. Morwen was always available and attentive to her. 

Her gaze then drifted to a large painting hanging in the corner of the room. 

“Who is that?” asked eleven-year-old Kaelin, standing in front of a sublime painting depicting a warrior with a sword in his hand, looking at the battlefield with a determined expression. 

"That's Torvel Ironstarr, the most famous Valrossian warrior in history. He died several decades ago. He was the fighter who ended the first war between Valrosse and Malden."

“Where is he now?”

“Oh, my dear.” Morwen ran her hand through the little girl's hair as she looked at him with admiration. “He has not been in this world for a long time.”

“So he's dead.”

“You know, Kae, just because someone dies doesn't mean they're no longer with us. They continue to live on in your heart, your memories, and sometimes even in history itself.”

“Will I live on in history one day?”

“Haha!” He laughed loudly, scratching his beard. “I think it's a little too early to say, but you know.” He took the child's hand and placed it on his heart. “I will always live by your side, and you will always live by mine.” 

Kaelin smiled contentedly and continued to gaze happily at this sublime painting, which was easily her size, if not larger. Morwen hung it on one of the living room walls as high as possible, where this warrior who had lived through the ages seemed to protect their modest home. 

“Why are you hanging it here?”

“So we don't forget history, Kae.” He turned to her as he stood on a ladder to hang it high on the wall. “And because it's very beautiful, isn't it?”

Kaelin approached the painting. She grabbed it with her arm outstretched and brought it down to the floor so she could see it more closely. It was indeed a sublime painting with surprisingly vivid colors for such a battle scene, and not a single hint of red colored the work, as if its creator had wanted to erase the atrocities of war and depict only its glory.

The brunette ran her hand over the dusty painting to remove the excess dust. In the lower right corner was the artist's signature, and as she rubbed harder, Kaelin was surprised to discover who the artist was. 

Osric Valebright. 

She rushed out of her house to the Valebrights' house on the other side of Port Enanta. She had to know. She ran as fast as she could. Why did Morwen have a painting made by Osric? Did they know each other? Why had Osric painted a warrior from Valrosse when he was probably still in Malden at the time?

She ran as fast as she could, her legs aching terribly. 

When she arrived at the small house, there were no lights on. They were probably asleep at this hour, but she didn't care. She needed to know. She had to know. 

She knocked, but there was no answer.

She knocked again, still no answer. 

She tried to open the door, which opened as if it had never been closed. 

The house was empty, and on the chair where Osric always sat, there was a piece of paper sticking out of the armrest. Kaelin grabbed it hastily and read it, her heart pounding. 

Kaelin, my child, if you find this message, it means we have been spotted by the Maldenians. By the time you read this, we are probably on our way back to Malden. 

Kaelin, I believe in you. Take your revenge and bring justice to Morwen. He is an old friend of mine, and I apologize for not telling you sooner. The people of Solyus will be able to help you. 

Kaelin, make history and become a legend far greater than Morwen could ever be.

Take care of yourself. We will meet again in Osleanos. 

Osric & Mia.

Chapter Text

Sol was ready. Standing before him was none other than his brother, one of the best fighters in all of Malden. Thibalt's aura, intimidating as it was, was no more powerful than Sol's. Sol was angry, and his anger could only be satisfied by one thing: victory. Perhaps that was what brought him closest to his brother: combat and the thirst to surpass the other and, of course, to always be better. 

The crowd had gathered in the courtyard on the training grounds, the field had completely emptied, and Selhara remained to make sure nothing serious happened. The soldiers shouted at the top of their lungs, each supporting a different prince. Even the maids had stopped to watch what was happening and observe this fight, which was ultimately the least that the inhabitants and soldiers of Osleanos Castle expected.

The first to attack was Sol, with all the audacity and strength he had. Thibalt looked at him and dodged him in the blink of an eye, which greatly destabilized the younger man, who nevertheless quickly regained his composure. Then Thibalt attacked in turn, surprisingly directly at the chest. Sol was surprised that he would attempt such a dangerous attack against him.

Then he understood.

He hadn't seen the crowd that had gathered in front of them. Selhara was watching them, and it was even possible to see the queen with a cup of tea in her hand from the window of her quarters. The elder brother resumed his blows, each more aggressive than the last. Sol clearly lacked technique, and his attacks, although powerful, were so disorderly that they did not allow him to break through. 

Then she appeared in his mind.

Her short black hair flying in the wind and her icy blue eyes. Sol lost his cool and began attacking his brother with as much ferocity as the latter. It was hatred speaking, hatred and a small part of fear that one day she might beat him. 

If Thibalt could kill their father so easily, then he would make short work of the blond boy. Not only were his ego and reputation at stake, but it would also teach him how to fight better. He had to. He had to be better. For her. For her?

“I see your mind is elsewhere, my dear brother.”

“Shut up!” As monstrous as Sol might seem, he continued to relentlessly attack his brother, who dodged all his attacks with disconcerting ease. “You should defend yourself too.”

“Defend myself?” Thibalt brought his face close to his brother's and placed a finger on his forehead. “Defend myself against you? What for? Can't you see that your attacks are futile?”

Sol became enraged and attacked again and again, which surprised Thibalt slightly, prompting him to defend himself a little more. He attacked from all sides—right, left, top, bottom, chest, arm, leg. 

When Sol finally managed to land a blow on Thibalt's right leg and give him a scratch, the older brother lost his cool and his annoying nonchalance. He moved closer to Sol and attacked in turn, but with more force and even more precise technique. He attacked painful or debilitating areas such as the knees and eyes. 

“Do you know what I like least about you, little brother?” Sol didn't answer and continued to parry the attacks. “It's your eyes. Your damn eyes. I hate the fact that you inherited Mother's eyes. I hate that saying that you're the sun and I'm the moon. In the end, I hate you.” Thibalt burst out laughing, sending a chill down Sol's spine. 

He attacked again and again, giving Sol no opening. He attacked again and began inflicting various wounds on his younger brother, ranging from simple scratches to injuries that would force Ellen to call a doctor to the castle. 

The crowd had become surprisingly silent, no more shouts were audible, and Thibalt and Sol were the only ones who could be heard.

“I don't like your little game with Selhara. You want to play favorites?” His sword reopened the wound Kaelin had inflicted on him a few days earlier. “Know that there is no hope for this damn kingdom of Valrosse.” He plunged his sword into his left thigh. “If you're too nice, you'll get eaten, so you'd better get a grip, my dear Sol.” Thibalt turned his sword and, with the back of it, violently knocked Sol to the ground.

“That's enough!” shouted Selhara, rushing towards Sol, who was half-raised on all fours on the ground. “Your Majesty, please go back to training with the others. I will escort Sol.” 

“Of course,” replied Thibalt. “By the way, Sol, I'll do you a favor and talk to my father and mother about the ceasefire. I'll give you one more week. Aren't I a generous prince?”

The crowd cheered Thibalt, this prince filled with hatred and as monstrous as war itself. This same crowd was divided between those who understood this second prince and Sol, who preached peace and understanding, but still shouted the name of the older of the two princes. 

Sol struck the ground violently, promising himself that next time, he would defeat him. 

Kaelin was ready. That word had not only moved her, but had also affected her to a degree that, while not equal to Morwen's death, had still shaken her. It was time for her to leave Valrosse and carry out her revenge. Now there was a new variable: finding Osric and his daughter and understanding in more detail his connection to Morwen. 

It was very early in the morning, and she had decided to leave at that hour to avoid running into Noé. She nevertheless decided to leave him a note, which she slipped under his window, telling him that she had left and that they could still communicate by carrier pigeon, but that she had not forgotten him. Far from forgetting her homeland, Kaelin was leaving precisely to avenge it, to avenge Morwen, but also to avenge all her companions and get her revenge on that monster Thibalt Riven.

Once the note was delivered, Kaelin mounted her horse and rode north of Port Enanta to cross the river that lay just north of the city. Fortunately, there was a bridge that made it fairly easy to cross the river, allowing Kaelin to easily lead her horse across. 

Once she had crossed the river, which took her less than an hour and ensured she was no longer in direct line of sight of Ground 11, she turned westward, heading straight for the mountains that separated Valrosse from Malden. The journey took longer this time. She was closer to Valeth, the capital, and therefore encountered more people, something she did not appreciate given her desire to remain as incognito as possible. 

A huge valley separated the area between Valeth and the mountains on the Valrossian border that led to Solyus. This valley was sublime, and Kaelin thought that the soldiers who left Valeth to join Ground 11 must be used to this route and even look at it with less admiration than she did today. 

Several hours passed, then the whole day, and when Kaelin finally arrived at the other watchtower not far from the “cave tunnel” indicated by Osric. It was a rather complicated moment because the lookout areas were the most closely watched areas, and if Kaelin was spotted, she would be considered a deserter and executed on the spot.

Kaelin tied her horse near the tower, hoping that someone would find it. She definitely couldn't take it with her, as the cave was much too narrow and the ceiling too low. A soldier would probably find her horse and take it away with the army. 

The brunette slipped through as discreetly as possible and managed to get past the watchtower. 

Kaelin finally found herself facing a hole in the rock barely big enough for her, and she realized that Osric hadn't lied to her. Everything was finally beginning, and it was up to her to write a new story. 

Chapter Text

Passing through this tiny hole in the mountain was no easy task, and Kaelin wondered many times how Osric had managed to get through with a baby in his arms without anyone noticing him. 

However, the brunette understood why he had injured himself. The cave was covered with thorny plants, each one sharper and more poisonous than the last. Passing through here was hell, and she couldn't see a thing. Crossing this cave, which was nothing but darkness and strange smells, as well as plants that threatened to cut her skin every two steps, 

After what seemed like an eternity, Kaelin saw a little light and, despite the weight of her bag and her accumulated fatigue, she rushed outside.

She slowed down abruptly, remembering Osric's words.

“Be careful when you come out the other side of the cave, there's a watchtower on the Maldenian side too, so you should be extra careful, especially at day.” Fortunately, Kaelin, who had left early and traveled with her horse all day, arrived in Malden in the middle of the night around ten o'clock. 

She couldn't afford to let her guard down. Once she emerged from the cave, she spotted the famous control tower and decided to take a detour along the mountains on the Maldenian border. It was difficult and complicated, and the brunette quickly realized that security in this kingdom was much tighter than in Valrosse, making it much easier to get to Valrosse than to leave it. 

A light was spinning around the tower, and Kaelin felt like she was playing a dangerous game of musical chairs. Once the light stopped, she would start moving again, and as soon as it moved again, she would stick close to the tower and stop. This went on for a good hour, and Kaelin was starting to get exhausted. 

But she had finally arrived in Malden, once she had left the tower area: Solyus lay before her eyes, a majestic little village with houses of all colors. As Morwen had said, this village rightly seemed like an artists' town, and even at night the paintings on the houses reflected the style of the town. 

It was late, well past eleven o'clock at night. Everything had gone perfectly, but she was arriving later than expected and the hotel where she was supposed to stay would be closed at this hour. She sighed loudly. 

“Looking for a hotel, dear traveler?” a female voice asked, and Kaelin searched for where it was coming from but couldn't find it. “Up there!” The brunette looked up to see a young woman sitting on the edge of the roof of a huge multi-story house.

She looked to be the same age as Kaelin, her brown hair styled in two braids that fell down either side of her shoulders. Her brown eyes emphasized the very soft features of her face. 

“Um, yes, I'm from Highven and I'd like to find shelter for the night. Do you know if I can find that somewhere?”

“Of course!” She jumped off the roof, which surprised Kaelin. How had she managed to climb so high? “At my place!”

“I was thinking of a hotel, to be honest...”

“Here it is!” The young woman bowed slightly to show her the huge house behind her in more detail. “This is the Farrow Hotel, the best hotel in town. Pleased to meet you, I'm Isore Farrow, the daughter of the manager of our humble establishment. Welcome to Solyus!”

Kaelin followed her without a word. Once past the entrance, a warmer interior greeted her, and a rather plump woman, the complete opposite of Isore but with the same features, greeted her.

“Hello, dear customer, I'm Amelia Farrow. How can I help you?”

“I'd like to find a room for the night, please.”

“I'm sorry, I—”

“Mom.”

“All right, follow me,” the young woman corrected herself. Her response, strange as it was, did not arouse Kaelin's suspicion, as she was already too tired and surprisingly comfortable with Isore.

Amelia took her to a small, very modest but perfectly clean and pleasant room on the third and top floor of the hotel. After a polite nod, mother and daughter walked away and Kaelin closed the door before hearing them walk away.

“Isore, you're taking advantage of me. It was the last room and definitely not the best...”

“But it's functional! And look, she must have been my age. You told me to make friends.”

“How can you talk like that, my daughter... You're twenty, not twelve.”

Kaelin laughed quietly at her words and, after putting her bag on the floor, lay down on the bed and, before even having time to take a bath, fell asleep instantly, sinking into the arms of Morpheus for a night far more tormented than she could have imagined.

In her dream, Kaelin dreamed of many different things she had never imagined. There was a strange little town with wonderful colors, where there was a cozy little house right next to a huge hotel run by a mother and daughter. The little house was home to a family whose members all had beautiful dark blond hair and bright, cheerful hazel eyes. 

In this town, everyone seemed happy and lived peacefully far from the capital, far from war and fear. Then one day, a man with light blond hair and eyes so dark that they radiated fear, arrived in this small town. The man spread terror among all the inhabitants and separated the small family that had been so happy. He snatched the young woman who ran the hotel next door and separated her from her family and her father, who had just returned. 

A fire broke out in the town, and through the dark night, the glow of the fire and the trails of smoke in the air painted a whole new picture for this once joyful town. The inhabitants gave in to panic and began to run around desperately, trying to find somewhere to go in the chaos. 

The children were crying, the adults were screaming, and Kaelin was on her knees on the ground. She looked at her hands, covered in dust and burns. Her face hurt terribly, and she didn't really understand what was happening or where she should go. 

A figure appeared in front of her. It was Morwen. He held out his hand to her. She started running after him to grab his hand.

“Morwen! Wait for me!” Kaelin screamed as her adoptive father moved away, as if sliding across the floor, without her being able to grab his hand. 

She began to run with all her might, as fast as she could, but he was getting further and further away, completely out of reach. The brunette began to cry in despair. Why was he so far away? Why couldn't she catch up with him? She ran and ran and finally stumbled. When she got up, Morwen had disappeared and standing in front of her was the blond man with the dark eyes, smiling slyly. 

Kaelin turned to flee as he approached as quickly as Morwen had moved away. Wanting to find refuge in someone else, she discovered with horror that all the inhabitants of the city were lying lifeless on the ground and only rubble remained in the city. 

Then she saw him. 

The same hair color, but with an infinitely gentler gaze and tousled hair. He had pink lips and a reassuring smile. He was tall, but that didn't intimidate Kaelin and he had such a reassuring aura. He held out his hand to her, then tilted his head to one side and smiled.

Kaelin took his hand without thinking, and as the world around them lit up with a light that swallowed the chaos in the village, the brunette looked with interest at the man beside her. He was far too handsome for her not to admit it. He had that look that defined him and a majestic, royally gentle aura. 

“Who are you?” she asked, eager to understand who her savior could be. 

He placed both hands on Kaelin's face, cupping it, and closing his eyes, his forehead resting against hers, he replied.

“Sol. I am Sol Riven.”

Chapter Text

Kaelin woke up with a start. Her sleep had been restful, albeit very restless, and the fact that she remembered her nightmare in minute detail certainly did nothing to calm her panic. 

She remembered Sol very well. He was the man she had fought before heading off to the battle between Morwen and Thibalt. He was the brother of the man she wanted dead. How could she portray him as a savior in her dreams when he was the brother of such a murderer?

The brunette shook off her thoughts and got up. She first took a well-deserved bath, then decided to leave her bedroom upstairs and go downstairs to thank Amelia, who had welcomed her so politely so late at night. 

She did so and descended the many stairs that connected the third floor to the ground floor. To her surprise, the ground floor of the building was extremely lively. From early in the morning, many families and different people had gathered to chat over a nice cup of tea or coffee. It seemed that this place was much more than just a hotel; it was literally the attraction of the city.

  “See, I told you it was the best hotel in town!” Isore appeared out of nowhere, startling Kaelin. “You've probably been recommended the hotel in the north, but let's just say that our hotel is a regular hangout. You'll feel right at home here.”

 “Thank you,” replied the brunette simply, not quite sure what to say.

Isore sat down next to her in an armchair that looked so comfortable that Kaelin copied her and sat down in an identical chair directly opposite hers. Once again, she was surprised, and the comfort of the furniture made her sigh with happiness. 

“See! Everything's fine here!”

Kaelin smiled at her and remembered the words of her mother, Amelia. She did indeed speak like a young woman younger than her age, and this, in addition to her two perfectly placed braids, gave her a mischievous air.

Kaelin liked her. She sincerely appreciated this young woman with her girlish airs and strong character. For a few moments, she thought that the two of them could surely be friends, then she realized once again that Isore was a Maldenian and that she had sworn not to let these barbarians into her life: not now, not ever.

Then time began to pass, and with it, the hatred subsided, and a slightly different Kaelin emerged from the chaos of a war that had paused for a period of time that no one could have imagined would be so short.

It had been almost two weeks since Kaelin had arrived in Solyus, surprisingly well accustomed to this town with its village atmosphere, which was much more pleasant than she had imagined. A completely surprising realization had finally dawned on the brunette: the Maldenians were not necessarily very different from the Valrossians, and they were just as much victims of the war as they were. 

Kaelin adored Isore. And Isore adored Kaelin just as much.

Having, in part, lost her best friend who remained in a distant nation she knew only too well, she felt as if she had found a new friend with whom she could share her fears and hesitations.

The difference was that Isore didn't know the truth. And Kaelin was holding back with all her might from telling her everything. Even though she had grown accustomed to the Farrow family and their infinite kindness, she couldn't bring herself to confess her grim and unusual purpose for coming to Solyus. 

Every morning, after nights filled with nightmares, Kaelin would meet Isore downstairs at the hotel entrance, where Amelia welcomed new guests and Loris, Isore's father, brought them fresh fruit before going to sell it at the market stalls. The Farrow family was influential in Solyus, but they were a gentle family who lived surprisingly modestly. 

As mischievous and nonchalant as Isore was, she was also very kind and always ready to advise Kaelin, who was not yet very familiar with the customs and traditions of Malden. 

It would have been completely wrong to say that Isore had no doubts about Kaelin's true origins, but she didn't ask any more questions, and Kaelin guessed that she simply didn't want to ask any and preferred to tell herself that she had made a very good friend who was just socially awkward. 

The fourteenth night came, and Kaelin, exhausted from her day helping Loris, Isore’s father, sell fruit and cleaning the hotel with Isore, realized that she felt good, that she almost didn't want to leave and wanted to stay here forever. In this town, she forgot everything; only her nightmares brought her back to a sad reality that she managed to escape for a day.

She still missed Morwen so much it tore at her heart, but she was in denial. She hadn't heard from Noé either, who was probably still angry and brooding at home, worried sick. However, Kaelin had no doubt that Noé would contact her first. She knew he missed her and was too attached to her. That was her slightly toxic side.

The evening wore on, and the brunette decided it was probably time for her to leave Solyus. She felt comfortable enough with the villagers, and Maldenian customs were beginning to hold no secrets for her. 

Kaelin decided that the next day would be her last and that she would leave Solyus and the Farrow family. For good. 

What hurt her most about this thought was not the fact that she was leaving, but rather the fact that she would probably never see Isore again and that she would be forced to lie to her, yet again. 

That evening, tortured by her various thoughts, Kaelin realized that she was deeply sad and that she would miss everything she had experienced during those two weeks. 

That evening, a bird with a strange piece of paper attached to its leg appeared at the window in absolute silence and began to sing to the young woman. 

Surprised, she rushed to her window to grab the animal's leg and remove the piece of paper. 

It was a letter.

From Noé.

Of course.

My dear Kaelin,

I hope that wherever you are, you are well and not taking too many risks.

I would like to apologize. Not that I accept your decision, but let's just say I understand it. I would like you to understand me too. Please.

Kaelin, I miss you, and it's been almost two weeks since you left. I'm worried sick. Where are you? Are you eating well? Are you keeping yourself busy? Have you planned what you're going to do before and... after?

Everything is fine here. The ceasefire is good for us and calm has returned to Port Enanta. Of course, we all mourn Morwen, but his memory lives on in our hearts and I know that none of us will ever forget him. I hope this ceasefire lasts as long as possible so that we can enjoy a little peace amid the chaos created by the war. 

My parents and sisters miss you! Of course, not as much as I do, but I tell them that you've gone on a trip and will be back very soon, and I hope so too. I know you'll come back, Kaelin, won't you? 

Take care of yourself.

We all miss you.

Noé.

Kaelin felt a strange sensation on her cheek: warm and heavy. It was a tear, then another, then another. For the first time since arriving in Solyus, Kaelin was crying again. Brought back down to earth by her best friend's letter, she realized even more that she had been living in an ideal that could not last.

She didn't belong here, and she had to accept it.

“Do I have the right to know the truth?” Isore asked, perched on top of the roof, looking gently at Kaelin, who was sobbing hot tears, resigned to finally telling the truth to this friend she had just met.

Chapter Text

“I'm not forcing you to do anything, but I can see that you're not well.” Isore continued her sentence and climbed down from the roof to stand in front of Kaelin's window, which glowed faintly in the candlelight. "Kaelin, I'm not fooled. I know very well that you're not from Highven and probably not from Malden either. The others may have believed you, but I know you too well not to have my doubts.“ She tilted her head back and let out a soft laugh. “And who on earth carries a sword with them everywhere they go? "

“Isore, you have to promise me that—”

“I can promise you anything you want, but you already know my opinion of those royal barbarians. I'm not like Alfred, that senile old royalist. I have no interest in turning you in. Ever.” The young woman took Kaelin's hands in hers, which were surprisingly warm given the cold outside. “I'm not forcing you, once again. Only talk to me if you feel the need to."

“I'm Valrossian. I come from Port Enanta, to be precise, and I've been a soldier since I was a child.”

Isore's heart skipped a beat. She had expected Kaelin to be from Valrosse, but this still surprised her.

That wasn't all.

“And I want to kill Thibalt Riven.”

Isore nearly fell off the roof and, as she slipped, was caught by Kaelin at the last moment.

“By the gods, Kaelin, you want to kill a...” She lowered her voice for fear of being heard. “A prince? And Thibalt Riven, no less?”

“He killed my adoptive father.” "

“Who is your adoptive father?”

“Morwen Castemar.” 

Isore's heart skipped another beat, and she almost slipped off the roof again and crashed to the ground.

“Morwen Castemar?! The great Morwen Castemar? The hero of Valrosse, feared even in Malden?” "

Kaelin gave a shy smile and nodded simply.  

All the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place in Isore's mind, and she understood that the battle everyone was talking about between the two heroes of Valrosse and Malden was in fact Thibalt against Kaelin's father, the great warrior Morwen Castemar. 

“My God, how do you plan to achieve your goal?”

“I'm going to infiltrate Osleanos Castle.”

“Kaelin, it's not that simple!” Isore sighed loudly and slipped into Kaelin's room so they could talk more easily without fear of being overheard. “First of all, you need a more detailed plan, and then you need to get to know the castle better.”

Kaelin smiled.

“And you're going to help me?” "

“Arghhh.”

The next day, everything was different. Isore knew everything but kept her face as neutral as possible, without revealing even a hint of what she had learned the day before. She was determined to help Kaelin, but it could cost her much more than she imagined. 

She had been opposed to this government for a long time and hoped to be able to change things, even if only a little. So the next day, the two decided to sit down and talk in Kaelin's room, in memory of the time when this modest little room would house the brunette for the last time before her departure for Osleanos.

"Osleanos is about six hours away on horseback. Let's not even talk about walking, so I'll definitely have to find you a horse. Then, Osleanos is the capital, so it's huge, and I heard that it's bigger than Valeth, so you'll probably be surprised anyway."

“You know, I grew up in a small town, so I'm not used to big cities anyway.”

“Osleanos is unique, Kaelin. Solyus and Highven are small towns that are relatively uninteresting in comparison. First of all, you need a permit to enter, and my father can get you one,” Isore began proudly. “The capital is surrounded by guards and fortifications, so the only way to get in is legally with a permit.” She paused and continued, sounding sadder. "Anyway, if you're not a noble, haven't lived there for a long time, or don't have a lot of money, it's impossible to live in Osleanos. "

"Why are there so many restrictions for a capital city? Isn't Osleanos supposed to promote equality and openness to greater opportunities, as you preach so much? "

“Osleanos is a lie. Just like Malden. Nothing is equal here.” Isore paused and sighed wearily. “Well, anyway, the first step is for me to get you a permit without my father asking any questions. I'll take care of it right away.”

“Isore?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” Kaelin replied simply, moved, and Isore gave her the most beautiful smile she could muster.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. Isore racked her brains to find an excuse for her father to issue a merchant's permit to enter Osleanos, while Kaelin desperately searched for a horse. 

The search for a horse proved to be the most difficult task, as none of the locals wanted to send their horses to the capital for fear of never seeing them again. Despite offering increasingly attractive financial incentives, nothing worked. 

The day wore on and still not a single animal had been entrusted to her, while Isore had obtained a permit, made a fake ID, and gathered some supplies. Kaelin felt helpless. That was until she passed a man who must have been around seventy years old, sitting on a chair next to a stable.

The man she passed looked grumpy and annoyed, which made her chuckle softly, until she saw a huge, raven-black stallion that was neighing incessantly, making its owner seem even more annoyed. Nothing worked. Despite the man's attempts, the horse would not calm down.

“Oh, calm down.” Kaelin approached and the horse calmed down instantly.

The surprised man grabbed Kaelin's arm violently and shook her with one hand. He looked at her with a bewildered expression as the animal, now as gentle as a lamb, let her stroke its head as if it had always known Kaelin.

“How is this possible?” The man clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Do you know how long I've been trying to get this filthy beast to cooperate? What a pain! All this work just so he'll obey a stranger. Argh! They sold him to me as the fastest horse in Malden!”

“How much can I offer you to take him with me to Osleanos? Of course, I'll bring him back to Solyus as soon as possible.”

“Take this beast! Get it out of my sight! Go on! Good riddance!”

Kaelin was surprised but delighted to take the reins of the animal, which, however docile it had become, still looked at her suspiciously but obeyed her every command. 

The brunette was about to leave but turned back one last time to the grumpy old man who was grumbling as he scratched his neck furiously. Having already forgotten the poor animal, he was going back inside the house next to the barn.

“What's his name?”

“Solace.”

Kaelin smiled at the animal's name and took him with her. She had finally accomplished her mission and acquired a superb horse whose coat perfectly matched her hair.

Solace. This poor animal, also rejected, would become the hero of her world.

When Kaelin returned to the Farrow Hotel, night had already fallen two hours earlier. Isore paced back and forth in the hotel lobby, which prompted a few questions from her mother, who was very surprised to see her daughter, usually so calm and cheerful, looking stressed and agitated. 

When Kaelin finally arrived, she waved to her from outside the building, proudly showing her the magnificent stallion that accompanied her. Solace stood proudly by her side, surprisingly calm and peaceful. As Isore approached, the horse began to neigh and rear up, and the brunette positioned herself between her friend and the animal. It was clear that the stallion would categorically refuse to obey anyone other than Kaelin.

“Your beast is not easy to handle.”

“But look how beautiful my “beast” is!”

“Go put him in the hotel stable and come back so we can discuss what I have prepared for you!”

Chapter Text

Sol couldn't forget. 

He couldn't forget his fight with Thibalt or Kaelin's untimely appearances in his mind. He couldn't accept his defeat or forget the brunette who haunted him day and night. For a while, he even wondered if he should have found a way to contact her again despite her status as a Valrossian: just to understand who she was.  

Selhara had partly understood that something was bothering Sol, in addition to his fight with Thibalt, which his brother took great pleasure in recounting to the entire castle. However, one thing about this fight had been very positive: Sol now knew what his brother really thought of him, and at least it was mutual. 

After the fight, Thibalt teased Sol every time he ran into him in the hallway, a reaction that the younger brother simply ignored. Sol did not respond to his brother's provocations, and even though his mother had taken pleasure in paying him a very unpleasant visit full of reproaches and compliments for his brother, Sol managed to put things into perspective and ignore all these people who seemed to wish him so much harm. 

Today was another training day, just like all the others, and the ritual was the same. Sol got up, looked at the scars left on his chest by the war and, more recently, by his brother, put on his training gear, ate a quick breakfast, and left for training. 

But this training day was different. Selhara was not on the training grounds; she had gone to Ground 11 to scout the area and think about how the counterattack to break the ceasefire pact would unfold. Not that she liked this action, Sol knew, but she had no choice. What the king ordered, she had to do.

The king of Malden was very different from the queen. Whereas the queen was venal, manipulative, and egocentric, the king was cold, directive, and uninterested in anything that did not concern power. In fact, with the exception of the queen, who had genuine admiration for her eldest son, neither the queen nor the king had ever shown any affection toward Sol.

Sol did not know what affection was, let alone love. He did not know what the warmth of a loving home was, let alone the love exchanged between a couple who truly loved each other. The blond boy's parents had been together forever and had never shown any real interest or attachment to each other.

And he constantly questioned himself. 

What could love be? What was its purpose? Were there people who truly loved each other? What could this feeling described in the books Ellen secretly gave him when he was a child possibly be? Sol didn't know. He wanted to know, but he was afraid. 

Above all, he hoped that the wall he had built around his heart, decorated with such solid ramparts, would never collapse.

Another day had passed so quickly, and with the discovery, or rather the “treasure” that was Solace, Kaelin and Isore had finished preparing everything for Kaelin's departure. The two young women had therefore decided to spend one last evening together to enjoy their final moments without really admitting to themselves that they might never see each other again.

The two young women let themselves go in a wild evening of drinking with Amelia and Loris, whom Kaelin saw for the first time drunk and sad about her departure. It didn't take much more for all the hotel regulars to also get carried away by the various beers Alfred had brought back without really knowing what was being celebrated. 

The two friends decided to end the evening in Kaelin's room so they could talk without fear of Alfred, that old royalist, reporting them. Staggering, they climbed the hotel stairs to reach the top floor. Isore, much drunker than Kaelin, was the first to start the conversation after a few laughs following their numerous attempts to open the door. Once the door was open, Isore and Kaelin lay down on the latter's bed.

“I'm going to miss you.”

“Me too.”

“Lucky you, you'll get to see Sol Riven up close.”

“Lucky?” Kaelin sat up in surprise, then immediately lay back down, feeling her head spin. “Why is that?”

“Sol is a real hottie!”

“It's true he wasn't bad looking, but...” Kaelin stopped and regretted her words. How could she say that about the brother of that murderer?

“Let me stop you right there. You can consider Sol and Thibalt to be very different.” She stifled a small hiccup and continued. “They hate each other, and Sol is a respectable man.”

“You know I can't think like you. But you know...” Kaelin searched for words and remembered her past dream. “I dreamed about him.”

“Oh!” Isore sat up before realizing she had gotten up too quickly and began to hold her head. “Ouch!” Another hiccup made her pause again. “Why?”

“I confronted him.”

“Kaelin! You have to tell me these things! What was it like?”

“He tried to kill me.”

“Ok.”

Kaelin burst out laughing, and Isore followed suit. Their conversation made no sense, but it had piqued the brunette's curiosity about this mysterious blond prince who seemed so sweet and kind.

“Tell me more about him.”

Isore lay down and began her monologue, interrupted by numerous hiccups that were still evidence of the alcohol in her blood. Kaelin closed her eyes and let herself be carried away, imagining a tall blond man with clear gray eyes.

"Sol is known as the prince with a big heart. Apparently, he regularly offers to help simple commoners like us. He's a very gentle man and, let's say, quite successful! I know he doesn't get along with his brother and parents at all and that he is openly against the war."

“Then why is he participating in it?”

"Because he doesn't approve of the Valrossians' actions either. No one is completely good, Kaelin, you know that. Neither you nor us. So Sol is trying to defend his people. They say he's very strong in terms of brute force, but his big heart means he's less skilled than his brother and shows too much compassion.“ Isore stopped short and sighed. ”I know he's tried many times to convince his family to stop the war, but nothing works." 

Isore continued her story, singing the praises of a man whom Kaelin refused to appreciate, but whom she dreamed of again that night and the nights that followed, falling asleep to her friend's words and dreaming of a happier future. 

The next day, when Kaelin woke up, she took the opportunity to reply to Noé's letter and reassure him, but also to pack her bag and prepare to leave Solyus. It was time for her to take action and actually do what she was there for. 

Isore was no longer in her room; she had returned to her own. Kaelin had probably fallen asleep earlier than her without realizing it.

Today, a tinge of sadness had taken hold of her mind. Not only was Kaelin sad to leave a village as peaceful and happy as Solyus, but she was even sadder to leave Isore and the Farrow family. So much so that she had decided to return to Solyus once she had completed her mission, much to her friend's delight. 

As for the preparations, everything was ready: her ID, the merchant's pass issued to her as a traveling reader, and her horse, fast asleep in the stable as Kaelin woke up. It was early, very early, and she felt guilty about having to leave so early without being able to say goodbye to everyone.

Early in the morning, Kaelin set off for Osleanos with Solace, her bag heavy with provisions and her mind heavy with memories. She headed for the exit of Solyus and passed by the old temple, the town's landmark. Once everything was behind her, the brunette climbed onto her horse and said goodbye to the beauty of this small village. 

As Isore had indicated, Osleanos was six hours away on horseback. Kaelin estimated that she would arrive in the middle of the day if all went well. Before her lay another immense, green valley that reminded her of the one she had passed through earlier. She also knew that she would have to cross the river she had crossed on the way there, but given the proximity of the capital, there would undoubtedly be another, even larger bridge on the way, as her friend had also told her.

The journey was long, excruciatingly long, much longer than the distance between Port Enanta and Solyus, which was much greater and more complex to follow. But Kaelin was worried, stressed, and wondering about a million different things. She was afraid, not of what she was about to do, but rather of what would happen afterward. Was this some kind of coup d'état? Was she capable of such an act? She had no idea, and despite Isore's advice, she was afraid.

Then finally, hidden behind the bridge connecting the north bank to the south bank of Malden, lay Osleanos: the capital.

Chapter Text

The entrance to the city was just as majestic as Isore had described, if not more so. Huge towers surrounded the city: four main towers and five central towers that formed the castle. Even though Kaelin insisted that Valeth was every bit as impressive as the Maldenian capital, this was not true. Valeth lacked the splendor of Osleanos, except for its beaches and the magnificent view from the towers of the old town.

Everything here seemed excessive and impressive, from the number of guards posted at the city gates to the buildings, each more immense than the last, to the endless line of merchants trying to enter the city, to the crowd of royal soldiers patrolling and entering the city with a pride that made Kaelin uncomfortable. 

She had everything in her head, and remembering her plan was surely the most reassuring thing she could do given the stress and pressure weighing on her shoulders. She recalled Isore's words one last time. 

“When you arrive in Osleanos, you will probably see a very long line to enter the city. You have no choice but to wait like everyone else. Don't arrive too late, because it could take hours.”

“Hours?”

“Yes, yes. Okay. Once you get to the guards who inspect people entering and leaving the city, you'll have to give them your fake ID, then they'll ask you if you have a permit because you won't be on their city resident registry. In that case, you'll give them the permit my father got for you.”

“And then?”

“You enter the city and look for shelter for the night. You can leave Solace there; many hotels offer stables.” Isore scratched her chin nervously. “From that point on, be careful. Scout out what you need to do. Only act at night. Thibalt is known to be a heavy sleeper, and his room is close to his parents' quarters.” Isore sighed and paused again. She took Kaelin's hands in hers, her eyes shining without a single tear falling. “Be careful, Kaelin. I am with you wholeheartedly, but you may not come back alive from your expedition, and you need to be aware of that.”

The tears finally began to flow, but Isore remained calm and continued to speak as if nothing had happened.

“You'll use the dagger I gave you; it'll be more discreet. A sword would make too much noise. You'll have to climb the tower outside the north wing, but be careful because from that point on, you could be spotted. Then you'll go to the room at the northernmost end of the castle, where Thibalt's room is located. And there... you'll do what you have to do.”

“Thanks again, Isore. I could never have done it without you.”

“You're not there yet.”

“If I don't come back, will you take care of Solace?”

“That nasty beast? No way!” Isore wiped away her tears and burst out laughing.

The brunette waited in line outside the city for at least two hours, so by the time she was done, she was starving. She rushed to the first street food stand she found and devoured the few skewers she had bought in a few bites. 

She then walked around the city to explore the surroundings and scout out the area. It was fairly easy to find the castle since it was located right in the center of the city. It was magnificent, surrounded by four majestic towers. The north wing was more complicated; it was the most heavily guarded and the highest to climb, but she was ready.

She had prepared herself for this moment and was ready to face any obstacle, no matter how high. 

The day passed fairly quickly. Kaelin had found a small inn where she could leave most of her belongings, bought some new clothes so she could blend in with the crowd of nobles. The hour when everything would be decided was fast approaching, and her stress and anxiety were mounting. 

After a well-deserved nap, since she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, Kaelin sent a letter to Noé and another to Isore to inform them of her situation, then she got changed. Dressed in a simple and practical manner, she wore leather pants and a loose-fitting top with a small jacket to protect her arms. A neck warmer also protected her neck, and the lower part of her face was covered with a mask. Only her short black hair peeked out from under her clothes, and even her hands were covered with gloves. 

She left the inn and began to move discreetly, avoiding any encounters with people in this city, which was bustling at all hours. She walked along the edge of the city to reach the northern part, getting closer to the wing where Thibalt was. One last thought haunted her mind: it was Morwen. His image was clear, smiling broadly at her, a sorry smile but a big smile nonetheless. Kaelin allowed herself to push it out of her mind. She had to stay focused.

Forgive me.

Once she reached her destination, Kaelin readjusted the dagger on her thigh, well hidden under the leather of her pants, and approached the north tower, which was guarded by an impressive number of royal guards. She managed to quickly dodge them and get closer to the north side of the tower where she could climb up, but a guard turned around. 

“Oh crap!” Kaelin swore and knocked the guard unconscious with a blow from her elbow. She managed to slip past unnoticed by the other guards. Her warrior skills had saved her once again.

She began to climb the tower, nestling herself in the joint between another wall and the base of the tower so as not to be spotted. Her gloves helped her greatly, and she climbed surprisingly quickly and easily. She thanked herself for not having eaten too much, as the view made her slightly dizzy. 

Kaelin began her long climb and headed dangerously towards the north wing of Osleanos Castle to kill the man who had killed her father: Prince Thibalt Riven.

Sol still couldn't sleep and paced around his quarters, desperately looking for something more interesting to do than count his steps. He left his room to look at the stars. It was a very dark night. Darker than usual.

His intuition told him that something was going to happen. Something he would never forget. 

That night, Sol's dreams had led him to think of Kaelin, whom he had abandoned and forgotten. His brain refused to think of anyone else, so he tried to divert his attention to other young women at court. But it was impossible. Kaelin was the only one for him. Sol had never had any real interest in women other than as friends, and forcing himself to find a deeper interest in women he knew very little about definitely didn't work for him. 

He still had that feeling, that feeling that there was someone or something very close by and that that someone or something was very special. 

He felt in his heart that a missing piece of a puzzle had just been found.

And that something had been reunited. 

But a strange noise caught his attention.

Chapter Text

Kaelin had managed to climb the entire north tower, and her hands hurt so much that they were bleeding under her gloves. Her feet were also in excruciating pain. Her whole body was numb, but she had made it to the top! Now all she had to do was avoid the last guards inside the castle.

Fortunately, the interior of the castle was less well protected. It must be said that it took a warrior like Kaelin to sneak into the castle without being spotted. 

Kaelin began by locating the remaining guards and the passageway that led to Thibalt's room. The central room of the north wing, Isore was right, he was not one for discretion and modesty. 

Two guards were posted just outside the entrance to the corridor that led to the prince's room. She had no choice but to kill them. To do so, Kaelin would have to kill them at the same time to avoid making noise, but she only had one dagger. She spotted a rope further away, grabbed it, and decided she would strangle them while trying to knock them out. Everything should go smoothly.

She slid down a wall, grabbed the rope, and came up behind the two soldiers, wrapping the rope around their necks and strangling them. Unfortunately, they reacted at different times, and the first one let out a slight but somewhat shrill noise. 

“Damn!” He had made a noise. Kaelin looked around her, but there was no one there. Everything seemed to be fine: no one had spotted her. She then entered the hallway and walked down it. The luxury was already apparent in this hallway decorated with numerous paintings, all of which clearly depicted Thibalt at various stages of his life. 

What a narcissist! Kaelin thought mockingly. 

Then there he was.

In the large room filled with objects, each more expensive than the last, stood a large bed adorned with gold on which the crowned prince of Malden, Thibalt Riven, slept peacefully. 

Kaelin exhaled and took a breath as quietly as possible. She was there, it was now or never. If she had to lose her life, so be it, but Thibalt was going to die. He had to die. 

She took the dagger from her thigh and turned it in her hand, pointing it at Thibalt as she calmly approached him. When she was above him, she raised the dagger and pointed it at the prince's chest, then with a sharp movement brought it down toward his chest.

But her hand did not move.

Her hand, enclosed in another hand, did not move.

Kaelin turned around and Sol was standing in front of her.

Sol Riven looked silently at Kaelin Altherya.

Something strange arose between this man and this woman who had only pain and death in common. These two young people who knew only misfortune and war. The brother of her father's murderer looked at the woman who had just tried to kill his brother. 

Neither of them moved, and Sol held the dagger he had just taken from Kaelin firmly in his hands. 

She was the first to return to reality, as if spellbound by the blond man, and tried to run away, but was quickly caught by Sol, who pinned her to the ground and tied her hands with a piece of his shirt he had just torn off. Lying face down on the ground with her arms behind her back, Kaelin tried to struggle, but she was as shocked as Sol. 

She had failed. She had failed to save her father's memory, she had failed her mission, her only mission had ended in bitter failure. 

Kaelin blamed herself. Kaelin couldn't take it anymore. Kaelin wanted to disappear.

Everything began to spin around her: Thibalt waking up with a start, Sol helping her up to take her out of the room, and the hateful gaze of the oldest brother, who wanted to tear her apart just as he had done to her father.

Kaelin began to cry. It was her salvation. Her tears would be her salvation. She began to scream with all her might, crying again and again, drowning in her grief that would never end. Kaelin had lost everything. For eternity. Forever.

Sol took Kaelin to the castle basement accompanied by numerous guards who did not hesitate to beat and mock her. He had told them to stop and they had listened to him, but Thibalt, who watched them from afar with hatred and disdain, was the instigator of this hatred. 

There she was, the Kaelin of his dreams, the Kaelin of his memories. She was there without really being there. He was taking to the dungeon a woman whose soul had left her body. He was taking an empty shell dripping with blood, whose image had been tarnished by hatred. She would never be the same again. It drove him crazy. 

But she was there. By his side.

That drove him even crazier. 

He wanted her all to himself. 

“I'll take care of it,” he said to the guards who had just locked her in a cell, from which he retrieved the key.

“I think I have a say in this, don't I?” asked Thibalt, arms crossed and not the least bit unsettled.

“I'll report back to you on everything.”

“No way.”

“Do you really think she'll listen to you? That she'll talk to you? You, Thibalt Riven?” Sol got angry and raised his voice, which made Kaelin tremble.

“Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock in my room with a report,” said Thibalt before turning to leave. “Then we'll get rid of her.” he finished.

Sol slid down the cell wall and sat next to Kaelin, who was staring into space, perfectly calm, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.

“I remember you,” Sol began, seeing that Kaelin was not responding, he continued. “You're Morwen Castemar's daughter?”

Kaelin panicked and reacted instantly to the name Morwen. Her hands were tied, but she knocked Sol over and found herself sitting on top of the blond man, who didn't dare move. She then slammed her hands down hard on Sol's chest, who didn't move an inch.

“Don't say his name,” she finished before moving away from Sol. “Do what you want with me, but don't tarnish his memory.”

“Do you remember me?” Sol asked, changing the subject, which surprised the brunette.

“Yes.”

“I remember that day,” he said, looking at her. “I remember you, the two of us facing each other, your tears and their struggle. I've never been able to forget.”

Kaelin didn't know what to say. The second prince of Malden was telling her that her sadness had left a mark on him. What could she possibly say to that? 

“I don't understand why.” He put his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead nervously, then scratched his head, ruffling his already messy hair even more. “I should hate you.” Sol stood up, ready to leave, and before leaving the room and locking Kaelin in the darkness and cold, he uttered one last sentence.

“You will not die, Kaelin Altherya.”

Chapter Text

At ten o'clock, Sol had to go to Thibalt's quarters, who was much more agitated than the day before. To his great surprise, or rather with his brother's usual hatred and cruelty, the elder had had all the guards who were supposed to protect his quarters the day before executed. 

“I was waiting for you,” Thibalt announced from across the room.

“I know.”

“Hello, Sol.” Sol jumped at the sound of Selhara's voice coming from a chair near the window.

The blond man stepped forward, not really knowing where to go. He ended up sitting on the third chair, which Thibalt had probably brought out for the occasion. He looked across at him. Thibalt looked annoyed and almost angry, while Selhara looked desperate and sorry. However, she was the first to resume the conversation.

“At the request of His Majesty Thibalt and the King and Queen, this young woman must be executed. The execution will take place tomorrow at eleven o'clock in the public square.”

“What?!” Sol exclaimed.

“Did you really think we were going to keep your toy alive after she tried to kill me, did you?” Thibalt chuckled. “I can see that you’re very interested in her, but we're not going to keep her with us, little brother.” He paused again. “Oh, and I must thank you. You saved my life, and thanks to you, another criminal can be executed. Isn't that wonderful news!”

Sol pressed the point, and Selhara looked at him for a moment before looking away, not daring to further oppose the words of the eldest prince. She knew very well what was going on in the younger brother's head, and while Thibalt was too stupid to understand, she understood Sol's interest in the young woman.

After all, she must have been his age, and Selhara had never seen Sol show any interest toward a woman in all the years she had grown up with him. 

“I suggest we end this conversation and let Sol return to his quarters.” Thibalt gritted his teeth at the familiarity with which she addressed his younger brother. ”Sol, I'll give you the day off. Join me for training tomorrow."

Sol immediately understood what Selhara was inviting him to do. She was giving him the freedom to return to see her. Just one last time. 

Sol excused himself with a polite nod and left the room. He hurried to his room and then to the basement of the castle where Kaelin was. He stopped short in his tracks: would she accept his visit? Should he tell her that her fate was sealed and that he had lied to her?

No. Sol had to fight. He didn't know why, but he knew he had to fight. For her? Or rather for himself and his damn misplaced pride. 

The blond decided to retrace his steps and go back to see Thibalt and Selhara. When he arrived at his brother's door, the two were arguing, and it was the first time Sol had ever seen Selhara stand up to Thibalt.

“Your Majesty.”

“Selhara, let me speak! You can see that my brother is being insolent, why are you protecting him?”

“He is your brother.”

“But to you, he is nothing.” Thibalt cut her off coldly. Sol could hear the cruelty in his words through the door. “To me, he is nothing, to Father, to Mother, likewise, and it should be the same for you. He is not the crown prince.”

“He saved your life.” Selhara raised her voice in annoyance, struggling to hide her anger. “He saved you. He is your worthy brother. How can you say such nonsense?”

“Nonsense?” Thibalt raised his voice. “Get out of my sight. Leave my quarters. I don't want to see you again today.”

When Selhara left the room, she found Sol waiting patiently behind the door. Looking sorry, she motioned for him to come in, but before he did, she put her hand on his shoulder and looked at him firmly.

“Are you sure about this, Sol? Thibalt is angry and—”

“And I don't care if he's upset, he's not king yet. I can still convince Father and Mother.” 

Selhara wanted to stop him again, but she decided to refrain. If that was Sol's decision, then she had to respect it. She watched him go back into Thibalt's room, furiously hoping that he would be able to convince him not to make another victim, even if it was the young woman's fault.

When Sol entered the room again, Thibalt was initially surprised to see him back and that he hadn't rushed after the young woman who seemed to interest him so much. 

“What do you want?” asked Thibalt, sitting by the window, a cup of tea in one hand and his other fist clenched. “I hope you have a good reason for disturbing me again because I'm very angry.”

 “I want you to spare her.”

Thibalt burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that he dropped his cup and groaned at the hot water that had spilled onto his shirt. He motioned to several maids to come and clean up the mess he had just made.

When they had finished, he spoke again, even more annoyed, but with a hint of irony and mockery on the tip of his tongue. 

“You want me to spare my murderer? And why is that?”

“I'd like to avoid things getting worse between Malden and Valrosse. She was Morwen's daughter.”

“Oh Sol, I appreciate you in moments like these. What wonderful information you've given me!”

Sol instantly regretted his words. He had simply wanted to help and justify his request, but he had just buried Kaelin six feet under. Thibalt would surely use this information to hurt him before finishing him off with all the cruelty he was known for. 

“Why are you so interested in this poor woman?” 

“I'd like to avoid any more deaths,” replied the younger man. 

“More deaths? But we're going to win! The Valrossian deaths don't count, come on!” Madness showed in Thibalt's features, his face distorted with a mixture of hatred and joy. “One more and victory is assured! We're going to win this war, Sol! We're going to win it very soon and finally achieve glory for Malden and end this endless war.”

Sol didn't know what to say. He was lost, almost panicked and almost frightened by his brother's words. He knew that nothing about him was really sane, but on this day, it all came out, all those emotions that the younger brother refused to feel.

Thibalt was a true demon. 

“But so be it.” He hung up. “In the end, your words have put me in a good mood. Convince Father and Mother to spare her, and I'll accept the decision.” He paused again and placed his hand on his brother's shoulder. “Before that, you should go see your dearest, because I've got a little surprise for her.”

Sol froze on the spot and then began to run toward the dungeons as fast as he could.

Kaelin lost track of time because it was passing too slowly anyway. She no longer even felt the pain of the blows that the awful guard dealt her every hour while insulting her with every name imaginable. 

Her body was so covered in wounds that her skin had turned bright red. She no longer reacted; life had left her poor tortured body more than twenty-four hours ago. The marks from the whip, the cuts, and the bruises decorated her body with their hideous colors. Kaelin was in pain without feeling pain.

The pain in her heart was so much stronger than that in her body that she no longer felt it. 

At one point, when she was given a break and the guard grew tired of making her suffer, shivering with cold and almost naked, she curled up in a corner, trying to warm herself as best she could. 

When she felt a pleasant warmth envelop her body, she looked up; Sol was standing in front of her. He had just placed a thick blanket over her body and was looking at her silently: he was standing and she was sitting.

They looked at each other like this for several long minutes, neither of them able to explain the tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Chapter Text

Neither of them looked away. There was this tension between them that had been there since they first met, and Sol couldn't help but be obsessed with this majestic woman standing in front of him, covered in wounds and trembling.  

“What do you want?” Kaelin asked coldly, the first to look away when she finally regained her composure. “To mock me?”

Kaelin thought first of Morwen, then of Noé, then of Isore, and this allowed her to hold back her insults toward the Maldens. She began to cry even harder, without knowing why or how to stop. What was she doing here? Why was she still alive? She would have preferred that the horrible guard finish her off here and now, or better yet, she would have preferred that Sol killed her now at this very moment.

Kaelin thought of Solyus and the calm of that peaceful city. Then she thought of the chaos of war and the reality that these two nations were not at peace and that no one really was. 

She raised her head to look at Sol. 

“At least tell me when I'll be executed.”

“You won't be.” Sol rubbed his face and wiped away his own tears. “I'll find a way to make sure you won't be.”

“Why? I tried to kill your brother. Last time, I even tried to kill you.” She locked her gaze with the blond's, sending a multitude of shivers through the prince's body. “Why do you want to save me, Sol Riven?”

“I want to stop the damage caused by this war. I want Malden and Valrosse to redeem themselves so that we can end this war.”

“That fool Thibalt must have explained to you that it was impossible.” She thought again about Isore's words concerning Sol. “It's true that you are very peaceful for a prince—”

Kaelin stopped short, a terrible pain invading her chest. She began coughing furiously, spitting up blood without understanding why, and Sol rushed to her. She pushed him away with one hand, covering her mouth with the other, her hand covered in blood.

 “That's enough. Your brother got what he wanted by torturing me. Leave me alone, at least until my execution.”

She drove him crazy. Completely insane. Was it because Kaelin was a very pretty young woman, or because she simply intrigued him more than anyone else ever had? 

He didn't know.

But he had this urge to protect her. To help her. But this world was a world of despair, and here they were enemies and could never get along or appreciate each other. In this world, everything was forbidden to them. In any case, Kaelin seemed so broken that she wouldn't accept the slightest interaction.

Sol took a breath and locked eyes with her again. He crouched down and placed a hand on the long scar that ran across her right cheek. His hand moved so gently that Kaelin didn't move, enjoying this surprising contact that she hadn't imagined. 

Sol placed a second hand on her other cheek, cupping her face, then suddenly pulled away, regaining his composure and standing up. He was about to leave when he met Kaelin's surprised gaze again, her mouth slightly open. 

She had just remembered the strange dream she had had when Sol had saved her in the chaos of war. She remembered the gentleness of his touch and when he had taken her face in his hands. She remembered that his touch had been warm and pleasant and how she had missed it every day since.

She had just experienced that touch again, and this time it was real.

Kaelin Altherya was struck by a sudden realization: Sol Riven did indeed exist, and he was not like his brother, or at least did not appear to be. 

The blond man, who was standing, brought Kaelin out of her reverie and uttered one last sentence before leaving the dungeons. 

“I promise you won't die.” He turned to the guard. “Give her back her clothes and stop the torture, or I'll have you tortured instead.”

The next step in what was, after all, his day off, was for Sol to go to his parents' quarters and convince them not to have Kaelin executed. When he arrived in front of the king and queen's quarters, Thibalt came out and gave him a knowing smile before leaving with a wave of his hand. 

"I request an audience with His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen of Malden. "

“We will pass on the request, please wait, Prince Sol.”

The wait was long. So long that Ellen brought some cookies and tea for Sol, who was waiting in the great hall, hoping that his parents would receive him as soon as possible. 

“How are you feeling, Mr. Riven?”

“It's a difficult day, Ellen, as you can imagine, but I'm fine. I have something important to discuss with my parents. And how are you?”

 "I'm fine, sir. I would like to add that Mr. Thibalt himself has just come out of an audience with Her Majesty the Queen, and it seems he spoke of Miss Altherya. "

Sol tensed but nodded to thank Ellen for her words. The woman bowed politely to Sol, then excused herself and headed toward the exit of the royal quarters. 

Sol had time to finish everything Ellen had brought him when a guard approached him to tell him that his parents were ready to see him. When he entered the throne room, he looked around carefully at this room he knew very little about and which only the king, queen, and Thibalt were allowed to enter. The room was huge, with many large windows illuminating the space, allowing sunlight to flood in. On each wall of the aisle, covered with a red velvet carpet, were paintings of the members of the royal family, except for Sol, who was the only one not present in these paintings. Numerous ornaments also decorated the long columns in the middle of the aisle. 

The room was sumptuous, and Sol knew very well that such a place was not for him and that he was only there to make an appearance in this family where he really did not belong. 

“Come forward, my son,” said the queen, while the king looked disinterestedly at the window, which seemed much more interesting.  

"Father. Mother. " Sol knelt on one knee and waited for his father to deign to tell him to raise his head. 

“We know why you are here, my boy,” said the queen, a fan in her hand, which she waved furiously with her hands covered in lace gloves.

The blond man was not surprised; he knew that Thibalt had surely spoken to them beforehand to prepare the ground as it suited him best. 

“I've come to talk to you about our prisoner: Kaelin Altherya,” he said, ignoring his mother's first sentence.

“You want her to be spared.” This time, it was the king who spoke, locking his gaze with his son's. That cold stare. The same as Thibalt's. “How can you ask such a thing?”

“Come now, my dear. We are talking about Morwen Castemar's adopted daughter.” The queen began, then rose and descended the stairs from the throne where she had been sitting a few minutes earlier. “Wouldn't it be interesting for us to keep her alive and extract all the necessary information about Valrosse from her? We'll kill her afterwards.”

Sol tensed. So that was what Thibalt had been talking about. He regretted even more having given him Kaelin's identity.

His mother's words did not surprise him that much. His mother always knew how to make choices that were advantageous for Malden. She was willing to do anything to fix the kingdom and destroy the neighboring kingdom. 

But Sol was afraid. Afraid that once they had tortured her enough, they would throw her to the lions as if she had never existed.

Sol wanted Kaelin to exist. He wanted her to live. He wanted to get to know her, and he knew he would never be able to resist this consuming desire. 

Sol did not respond and nodded weakly at the queen's cruel words.

“Very well,” replied the king. 

“I imagine our audience is over?” asked Sol. 

“You may leave,” replied the king.

Sol bowed slightly before leaving the room, but his mother stopped him one last time.

“I wonder, my son, what it is about this girl that interests you so much.” She snorted. “I'll find out sooner or later.” "

Kaelin did not count the minutes or the blows that had begun to rain down on her poor, emaciated body once again. 

She was obviously not getting enough to eat, and the girl who once loved Lucia's pastries so much now had trouble eating at all. 

This was the case until a mysterious bird managed to sneak into her cell and she was able to remove a piece of paper from its leg. It was Noé who first contacted her, asking how she was and saying that he was even more worried than before, given that his previous message had not reached its recipient. 

Kaelin didn't know how to answer him. Not only was she afraid to tell him the truth, but she also didn't know how she was going to find paper and something to write with.

Two days had passed since Sol's visit, and Kaelin had seen the torture subside a little. Maybe he had done something? It didn't matter. He hadn't come back to see her, and the blanket he had given her was now covered in blood.

One evening, Kaelin managed to steal some paper that was lying in a guard's pockets and, with a piece of charcoal. She finally replied to Noé.

Noé,

I hope you are well.

I apologize for my delayed response and for any future delays. I will be brief and to the point, as I could be spotted at any moment and I have very little paper. 

I was captured by the Malden royal family and I didn't manage to kill Thibalt. For now, it seems they've decided to spare me, but I don't know how long that will last. 

I feel like Sol Riven is protecting me, but I don't understand why.

I'm taking care of myself. I'm alive. They're feeding me. I know you'll worry.

Please don't come looking for me and don't worry about me.

I'll find a way to escape.

Take care of yourself, Noé.

I'll be there soon,

Kaelin.

Chapter Text

It had been almost four days since Sol had visited Kaelin. She almost missed him; she was bored to death, and apart from the pain, nothing really kept her awake except for Noé's letters, each one more insistent and panicked than the last. 

Kaelin had gotten into the habit of stealing pieces of paper as soon as the guards entered her cell to beat her again, and she responded to Noé and then to Isore, who had also started sending her letters, equally stressed and worried. Although Noé was the most insistent and constantly said he would come and get Kaelin, that he would find a way to bring her back, she refused. Isore, on the other hand, said she would soon go to Osleanos with her father and try to get her out. 

In the end, it was Isore who worried Kaelin the most: she didn't know how to fight like Noé and she was quite capable of getting to Osleanos, and was bold enough to show up at the castle as the great savior of Kaelin, her best friend. 

So the brunette had devised a plan: she said she had a plan and a solution to escape Osleanos and initially go to Solyus, then return to Port Enanta and probably go to Valeth to report on the Maldenians' actions. But that was a lie. Kaelin had no plan, no solution. Kaelin was stuck in this horrible cell that kept her like a caged wolf. A rabid, sad, and desperate wolf. 

Time passed again and again, and probably another day. It had probably been four days since she had been stuck in this cell with a meager meal every night, a guard who tortured her from time to time when he felt like it, letters from her worried friends, and the silence of the dark cell walls. 

In the evening, at the end of the fourth day, Kaelin fell asleep early, trembling and covered only by her underwear and the blanket Sol had given her. As she felt herself drifting off to sleep, a strange figure came and lifted her up, wrapped in her blanket. The figure carried her like a princess. 

He smelled good. Her heart was beating. It was warm and pleasant. Kaelin sank into the arms of this figure who was taking her out of the cell where she had spent the last four days and where she had lived through a real hell. 

When Kaelin woke up, it was still pitch black, and she found herself in a huge, luxurious room that looked like a bedroom. In the middle of the room sat a large bed that was surprisingly modest given the beauty of the walls and the room. The modesty of the furniture contrasted so sharply with the luxury of the room itself that it was clear that the person who lived here was not a miser. 

Kaelin got out of bed and rubbed her head. She was still wearing the same clothes, and when she smelled the sweet scent of soap, she thought she would have killed for a bath, which would surely soothe her many wounds. Then she came back to reality and realized that she was in the bedroom of a complete stranger and that even though she was surely still in the castle, she didn't know where she was. 

“Are you up already? You should go rest. I can't keep you here forever.” Sol came out of the adjacent room, which was probably the bathroom. He was still wearing armor, which meant he was probably training for the day, and his chest was covered with marks so deep that Kaelin figured they would probably never go away.

Then Kaelin understood.

Sol wasn't visiting her anymore because he was probably training all day and had likely been punished for defending her. She no longer understood why, but remained perfectly silent. Sol then spoke again.

“I've run you a bath.”

“Why are you helping me so much?”

“I don't know.”

The brunette was unsettled by the sincerity of his response but remained silent once again. What could she possibly say to him? Was the solution to simply enjoy the prince's interest in her, or should she be more wary? 

“I don't know, but that's how it is,” Sol continued. “I'm not forcing you to do anything, but I can't just stand by and do nothing. It drives me crazy.”

“Why?” Kaelin asked again.

“I don't know, Kaelin.” She felt a tingling sensation in her body when she heard her name spoken by Sol.

“You should know, Sol,” she added, moving closer to him.

Was that the solution? To seduce him? To make him even more crazy about her so she could do whatever she wanted with him. Kaelin wasn't like that, and she knew that even in this situation, she couldn't bring herself to behave that way.

She gave up her current stance and resolved to accept his help.

“All right,” she replied. “Thank you.”

Accepting this surprising hospitality would surely be the solution. She walked silently past the blond man and arrived at the room adjacent to the bedroom, which appeared to be, as she expected, a bathroom with a bathtub filled with soapy water in the middle, giving off an exquisite scent.

She didn't even bother to close the door, undressed, and plunged into the hot water that stung her wounds. The hot water felt wonderful and seemed to instantly heal her wounds, which were too numerous to even count.

Sol stood frozen and peony-red in front of the entrance, then quickly closed the door and slid down the doorframe. It was the first time he had ever seen a woman's body, and it was more than an electric shock to him, especially since this woman was Kaelin Altherya, the same woman he couldn't get out of his mind. 

He remained like that until Kaelin came out. 

When she did, she was covered with a towel that Sol had placed on the edge of the bathtub. She looked at him in surprise and let out a soft laugh that took him aback. So she was capable of laughing, and that laugh sounded like honey to Sol's ears.

“I'm a soldier. We all change in the same place, there's no real modesty. I guess it's different in Malden.” She leaned over to look at him more closely, Sol still sitting on the floor where he had been for nearly thirty minutes. “Or maybe it's because you're a prince, you have to be separated from the rest of your soldiers. That's very sad.” Kaelin had stood up and was holding the towel that covered her tightly, rubbing her wounds. “Thanks for the bath, now I guess I have to go back to my prison?”

Sol finally got up and approached the brunette. He towered over her. He was very tall, taller than his brother but slightly shorter than Noé, and despite the fact that Kaelin herself was quite tall, he must have easily been a head taller than her. 

Kaelin laughed again. This posture was surely due to the fact that she had touched his male ego and that he, perhaps, even if only a little, wanted to show that he was not completely ignorant about relationships between women and men.

“Don't get me wrong.” Kaelin began, but Sol stepped closer and closer and grabbed her chin. “I really don't understand why you're acting this way with me. You should hate me.” She finished.

“And you, do you hate me?” asked the blond, moving closer and closer. 

Soon it was Kaelin who began to blush, wondering how she could escape this sudden closeness between them. He moved closer and closer. Kaelin tried to pull away, her thoughts jumbled, not knowing what to do. She hated him, then she didn't hate him anymore. She knew very well who Sol Riven was, but this attraction, this little something between them, was much more than a little something: it was everything.

She placed her hand on Sol's chest, then remembered that he wasn't wearing any top and began to blush even more. She was blushing as much as he was, if not more. 

“St-stop.”

Sol stepped back and handed her some clothes. They were women's clothes, and she wondered how he had gotten them, then remembered that he was a prince and that nothing was impossible for him. She shyly took them and then saw him pick up the clothes she had taken off earlier.

Kaelin went back into the bathroom and turned to close the door this time. She met Sol's gaze as he stared at her with his clear eyes. 

For a moment, Kaelin thought that she too was becoming obsessed with this blond-haired, gray-eyed man with his infinite gentleness.

Chapter Text

After that evening, Sol went every night to pick Kaelin up from her cell and bring her back in the morning. Every night, in silence, Sol watched Kaelin close the bathroom door as she went back in after Sol had given her some clothes to change into.

Kaelin suspected that their closeness was a problem, for her and for everyone else. Noé even expressed concern about it in his letters when she told him about it, but she felt a twinge of jealousy from him, having never had such an intimate closeness with him. The guards understood what was happening, seeing the prisoner change her clothes every day and resist the beatings, which gradually dried up. Kaelin wondered if the guards had grown tired or if they had found a new scapegoat. 

This strange closeness was shy at first, but little by little they got used to each other's presence and began to get used to each other themselves. What was at first a timid exchange gradually began to spread. Every night, as Kaelin talked with Sol until the early hours of the morning, she told herself that she was violating her own values, and every day she begged Morwen to wait, saying that she would kill Thibalt no matter what and that her situation with Sol was temporary. 

“Why do you hate your brother?” Kaelin asked, lying on Sol's bed wearing a light black top and leather pants of the same color, while Sol, as usual, took a bath after her, still in his training clothes, his white shirt stained with blood. 

“Is that a serious question? You can see that it's impossible to like my brother.”

“Are there people here that you like?”

“Of course.”

“Who?”

“Wow, you're curious!” Kaelin blushed and turned her head away from Sol to stare at the ceiling. “Selhara, my commander. She's strong and understanding. I've known her since I was a child; we grew up together. And Ellen, the head of the castle servants. She's like a second mother to me.”

“Oh, I see.”

Sol laughed and followed up on Kaelin's question. 

“And you?”

“Noé for sure. He has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He's always been there for me, and I know he always will be.”

“I imagine you communicate?”

Kaelin froze in place and didn't move. 

“I saw you writing letters. I'm not going to report you, you should know that by now.”

Kaelin paused and thought about the other people who were dear to him, and surprisingly, several names came to mind before Morwen's. 

“Mia and Osric, they helped me get here, I owe them everything. Isore too, she's a young woman I met here in Malden, and she's like my opposite, but together we complement each other.” A tear rolled down Kaelin's cheek. “And Morwen, whom I miss a little more every day.” 

Sol stood up and shyly put his arm around her, then pulled her closer to him in a gentle embrace. They stayed like that for several long minutes until Kaelin's grief finally subsided. 

When they broke apart, Kaelin's eyes were sticky and wet, her eyelids still heavy with tears. At first, she didn't understand why she couldn't push away this man who was both so close and so distant from her. This prince, whom she had forbidden herself to see, was the very same one who had just hugged her to reassure her. 

“Um, thank you,” Kaelin replied, moving a little further away from Sol, who clearly had no desire to move away.

After that evening, things were relatively different between them. They became even closer, and Sol regularly tried to get closer to Kaelin, either by attempting to hug her or by shyly taking her hand. 

Sol didn't understand how he felt about Kaelin.

Kaelin understood even less how she felt about Sol. 

And then one evening, everything changed suddenly. 

“Did you talk to your brother about Morwen?”

“Hardly at all. He praised his merits and how he was a prodigy for managing to kill him, and that's it.” Kaelin remained silent. Sol continued. "I don't condone his actions, but as a prince, he does everything he can to always appear superior. It's his way of saving face. "

“And no one puts him in his place?”

“We can't, Kaelin. It's not that easy to tell the crown prince to stop talking; it's not something you can do easily.”

“You're just afraid.” 

Kaelin stood up in a rage, looking at Sol with hatred. She couldn't accept his cowardice or, more generally, the fact that he didn't stand up to his brother more. 

She grabbed her few belongings and prepared to leave the room. 

Sol was afraid.

Was it fear that she might run away? Was it fear of seeing her drift away from him? Was it simply fear that she might resent him? It was an inexplicable and, above all, unhealthy fear: everything about Kaelin drove him crazy, and that craziness itself was even more inexplicable.

“Kaelin.” He grabbed her wrist, catching her in mid-air. 

“Let go of me!” She kicked violently, trying to make him release his grip on her, but to no avail. Sol held Kaelin tightly and looked at her with a look she had never seen before. 

Those eyes, those gray eyes she was crazy about, looked at her with a strange mixture of sadness and incomprehension. But she couldn't give in. If she agreed to surrender to the devil and accept Sol as he was, then he had to follow her and understand her. Otherwise, Noé would never forgive her and Morwenn either. 

It was a game: Kaelin had just played a card, and it was the queen of hearts. If Sol didn't play the king of hearts, it would be over for him. It would be over for them. Reluctantly, 

“You can't play on so many fronts, Sol.” She looked down at his hand, which was still holding hers tightly and was slowly sliding down to grab her hand. When Sol had linked their fingers together, she continued. “It's not Thibalt and me. It's one or the other.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know! Damn it, Sol! You know very well. Stop playing innocent.”

Sol didn't answer right away and pulled her closer to him. She was standing in front of him, and he was sitting on the edge of the couch. He rested his head on her chest and held her other hand in his.

“It's not that simple, Kaelin. I promise you, it's not that simple.”

“But I can't accept that! I'm already challenging all my values by doing what... What we're doing! By having this strange kind of closeness. You understand that!”

Sol sighed softly, not knowing what to say. He tightened his embrace and then lifted his head to lock his gaze with Kaelin's. 

She stood between his legs, her head bowed toward a prince who couldn't break free from her and who was silently calling for her help. Kaelin didn't respond right away and tried to break free from the unconscious hold Sol had over him. 

She was electrified, not daring to defy what this charming and forbidden attraction that brought her to him. 

“Sol... Answer me.”

“I don't know what to say.”

“But damn it! Defend yourself! Rebel! Be strong!”

“You think I'm not? I'm already doing everything I can! I could get reprimanded for what I'm doing with you!”

“And someone forced you to do it?” Kaelin had pulled away from Sol's grip and was looking at him angrily. “And you'll get told off? What exactly are you risking? Being grounded? Do you know that your people are being killed while you're playing Prince Charming with your prisoner?”

Kaelin walked toward the door, this time more resolutely. She wouldn't let him get away with it... not again. If he wasn't willing to make an effort, then neither would she. 

Sol stood up. He grabbed Kaelin again and this time threw her onto the bed. Lying on her back, she looked up at Sol, who was holding her wrist firmly with one hand and cupping her face with the other.

“Sol?”

“Kaelin.”

He moved dangerously close and Kaelin couldn't move. Her body wouldn't let her. It was no longer just a spark between them, it was lightning and more, passion and desire had taken over everything. Neither of them wanted to admit defeat in this game of cat and mouse.

Sol leaned closer and closer until his lips were now so close to Kaelin's. She felt his warm breath on her face, and it was the first time she had seen his gray eyes so closely. Although the brunette knew that her own eyes were no less beautiful, Sol was unique.

She too was going crazy for him.

And that evening, she wondered what she should do. 

She wondered if she should succumb to the cracks Sol had just caused in the walls she had built around her heart. 

Chapter Text

Neither of them moved. Their warm breaths became hotter with each exhalation. Sol breathed Kaelin's air, and Kaelin breathed Sol's air. 

Sol rested his forehead against Kaelin's, tightening his grip on her cheek and gently caressing her hand with his. He couldn't bring himself to go any further. Not only was he afraid, but out of respect for Kaelin, he was even more afraid of making something she wouldn’t like. 

Was a kiss the ultimate mistake? The one not to be made, the one that would seal their fates together. Sol didn't know, and Kaelin knew even less. He was going crazy for her, and even though he was beginning to perceive this feeling as something more real than mere madness or a simple crush, he knew that today, he couldn't go any further. 

He sat up and held out his hand to help her up. 

“I promise I'll think about it. But I'm sorry, I have to take you back to your cell.”

Kaelin was completely stunned, by him and by everything that had just happened. Not only had she never known any affection other than Morwen's parental affection and Noé's friendly affection, she didn't know how to interpret any form of romance. 

Romance? Was it really romance, or a crazy bad idea that would make her a sinner far worse than Thibalt? She couldn't make a pact with the enemy camp; she couldn't allow herself to succumb to this man, the brother of her brother's murderer. She couldn't let herself be drawn into such madness. She had to resist.

She had to resist.

Again.

And again.

But he was there, and her heart couldn't be more aware of it. 

She simply nodded and let herself be led by Sol's hand, which she didn't let go of until they reached her cell. The separation was the hardest part: not only did neither of them want to let go of the other's hand, but neither of them was willing to speak, and they knew they had to part ways. 

Surprisingly, Sol was the first to let go of Kaelin's hand before taking it back and kissing the top of it, which sent tingles throughout Kaelin's body. Sol said no more, closed the cell door, walked away, and gave one last look that said it all, then left. 

Kaelin wanted him to never leave. 

How could she have known that soon everything would change again?

Today was a new day, and on the training grounds, Sol was distracted not only by Kaelin but also by something from his distant past that had resurfaced and that he couldn't understand. 

“Focus, Sol!” Selhara snapped, and Sol responded by adjusting his position. 

He remembered his childhood. The favoritism shown to his brother, but also his sociability. The blond boy had always been very good at making friends and was so sweet that he attracted crowds, whereas Thibalt was jealous of him. Ultimately, he was a real social butterfly. 

There was always a child who would join him and his group of friends when his parents still let him play with the other kids in the neighborhood on the condition that he wouldn't reveal his identity. He then remembered the ridiculousness of the fake name he had come up with: Losvyn. He had simply reversed his name and added some letters. Looking back, he thought he should have been easily spotted, but apparently the neighborhood children were only really interested in his true self.

“En garde, Your Majesty!” A soldier attacked Sol, and he parried with one hand, stopping two guards at the same time. He had progressed at a speed that made Selhara proud.

That was what he had been missing: interest in his true self, in the human he was and would be, and not in his glorious status as Prince of Malden. That was also what he loved about Kaelin; she didn't care who he was and almost hated him for that very reason. He devoured this relationship of hatred and attachment, reveling in it with happiness and more. 

“Right. Now on the left!” Selhara shouted from the other end of the training ground. “Up now!”

Amidst all this, another memory came back to him in fragments. There was this child with long hair who always ran ahead of him. He remembered that he constantly fell when he ran after her; she was far too fast. 

In these memories, the child never turned around and always ran faster than him, but she laughed, and her laughter was wonderful. She always held out a hand behind her back to signal to Sol to follow her. But who was she? Why couldn't he catch up with her?

“Sol, concentrate, Be careful!” Selhara was getting annoyed, but surprisingly, Sol was very responsive and seemed to notice even the slightest attacks. It was his way of showing that he was resisting, that he was strong. That he wasn't a coward. That he was worthy of her.

“I am,” he finally replied, pushing back each soldier who approached him, fighting his way through to Selhara.

When he reached Selhara, he pointed his sword directly at her. Without moving, he announced his arrival so forcefully that the general was certain he had truly progressed. He was ready, not only for war, but for Thibalt.  

He had become once again that triumphant prince with impeccable sword skills. She was prouder of him than she had ever been. 

Sol was a conqueror. 

Perhaps it was her. She had changed him. She had brought out the person he had always been and driven away the shadow of a fearful and hesitant prince.

Sol was exhausted. With his sword still pointed at Selhara, he was panting. He was just as proud of himself and knew that he had finally accomplished the first part of his goals.

He secretly hoped that she had been there to cheer him on, to be proud of him. 

At that moment, still clouded by memories of this child whose name he did not know, he thought of Kaelin. At that hour, she must still be closed up, and he hoped that his many reprimands had calmed the torture and information gathering ordered by Thibalt, but it seemed that this was the case. 

He thought one last time of his prisoner and lowered his sword in victory.

Kaelin had seen no one. All day long, no one had come to her cell. No guards had entered, and her wounds were healing. It was almost laughable: they had hated her so much and beaten her so badly, causing her so much pain, only to forget about her overnight.

She was waiting for Sol. That was her daily goal: wait for Sol, spend time with Sol, and return to her cell. But what was the point of this aimless goal? The war could resume at any moment, and she was still in Malden. 

She had to return to Valrosse, to Port Enanta. She had to help Noé, help the Valrossians, help her people. Kaelin was born for the battlefield; she had to return there. Ground 11 was waiting for her. 

These thoughts swirled around in her head, tangling her thoughts, and she didn't know what to do. She was torn between her duty as a citizen of Valrossia and her desire to see Sol and continue this strange, forbidden relationship that was nevertheless so divine. Although the forbidden seemed sumptuous, reality brought her back down to earth and made her understand that she couldn't stay in that cell.

She had to go home. 

While her thoughts were still clouded and she was plagued by doubts she couldn't shake, a noise rang out in the cell. Someone was coming, and from the click of heels echoing on the damp floor, it was undoubtedly a woman descending into the dungeons. 

When the Queen of Malden stood before Kaelin, she didn't know what to do. More surprised than anything else, she couldn't believe that one of the leaders of the kingdom opposed to hers was standing before her, looking proud and disgusted by the filth of the cell. 

Sol's mother stood before her, and she didn't know what to make of this information.

“So it's you, Kaelin Altherya.” She crossed her hands, clad in exquisite gloves, and her magnificent dress, already stained by the dirt on the cell floor. She tilted her head and smiled broadly at the brunette as she opened the cell door and entered. “I'll take the liberty of entering. I have no doubt that you won't take the risk of escaping.”

She hesitated. She hesitated greatly. But she was afraid of what might happen to Sol if she hurt her mother during her escape, or if she ran away at all. 

“What do you want from me?”

“Come now! Those are no way to speak to a queen.” She paused, then opened her eyes wide and leaned toward the brunette. “I am your superior anyway, am I not?” She cut herself off, motioning for Kaelin to let her speak. “I am not waiting for answers, they are obvious. I did not come here to speak to you courteously, I have no interest in your pathetic existence. I came to talk to you about two things.”

She moved, her heels clicking on the floor again. With her hands behind her back and her head held high, Kaelin recognized a woman who had received very strict etiquette lessons. The queen then turned her head back to Kaelin, her long, flaming blonde hair flying. 

“First, I would like you to stop hanging around my son, or believe me, you will regret it.” She then turned toward the cell door, slammed it shut, and double-locked it. She took one last look at Kaelin before leaving the room and uttered one final sentence. “Secondly, the ceasefire has been broken by Malden.”

Kaelin knew at that moment that she had to flee Malden, urgently.

And the queen knew it too, and her plan to get her away from Sol was already taking effect.

Chapter Text

It was three o'clock in the morning, or perhaps a little later. Kaelin was in Sol's room, who had fallen peacefully asleep beside her. 

Kaelin was sorry, terribly sorry. She knew what she had to do: run away. This situation couldn't last forever, and she suspected that the royal family wouldn't hold her back, except for Sol. They would rather finish her off on the battlefield. They wanted her to suffer. From the beginning, everything had been planned to destroy her and perhaps even to destroy Sol himself. 

Saddened to flee while Sol was asleep and most vulnerable, Kaelin wrote him a short note and placed it on his bedside table because of a candle that was burning so quickly that the light was growing dimmer and dimmer. 

Sol,

I'm sorry I had to run away, but I have to protect my people. I have to protect my kingdom, and that means fighting. 

I hope we'll have a chance to see each other again someday. 

Perhaps if the gods had wanted us to, we could have met under better circumstances that would have allowed us to be together. I understand that there was something there, but neither you nor I can take responsibility for it. 

Forgive me. 

Please don't forget me. 

Kaelin.

Kaelin placed the note on the table and sat for a few minutes beside Sol, who, as if he knew, turned toward her in his sleep. She leaned toward him and brushed the hair from his forehead to kiss him there. 

“I won't forget you.” Those were the last words she spoke before leaving the room, climbing down the tower that connected the prince's room to the bottom of Oslenaos. 

Kaelin went downstairs and, despite her tears, did not turn back. She went to find Solace, who was still waiting patiently for her in the inn, and took him with her, fleeing this capital city that had been home to sadness, despair, melancholy, and the beginnings of a romance. 

When Sol woke up, Kaelin was gone. She was nowhere to be found, and as he ran through every corner of the castle looking for her, anger took hold of him. Why had she left? Why had she abandoned him? Why flee now, when everything was getting better?

Sol's anger towards Kaelin vanished when he learned of his mother's visit to Kaelin's cell. It was she herself who told him that she had warned Kaelin about the broken ceasefire and asked her to stay away from the royal family. 

Sol was even angrier, but not at the brunette; he was angry at himself. He blamed himself for being that cowardly prince again, who wanted to keep his prisoner for himself and who was unable to understand that she did not belong to this nation and that she needed to protect her own people. 

When he returned to his room, he found the note Kaelin had left him on his bedside table. He held back the tears that threatened to smudge and run the ink on the poor little piece of paper on which the woman who haunted his thoughts had written to him. He couldn't believe she was gone. He couldn't believe she wasn't coming back. He couldn't believe that by now she was surely already far away. 

He already missed her. He knew that something had been born in his heart and in hers. Romance, perhaps? He didn't know; he knew nothing about love. But what he did know was that he was crazy about her, crazy enough to die for her, and that the weeks he had spent getting to know her had only made that feeling grow stronger.

It took Kaelin more than a day to reach Port Enanta. 

The first thing she did was rush to the inn where Solace had been staying near the stables. She was delighted to discover that Solace had been well fed during her captivity. She thanked the innkeeper profusely and offered him most of the savings she had managed to recover during her escape.

Once she had recovered Solace, she fled Osleanos directly north, the way she had first arrived. The journey seemed long and yet not so long, as she was in such a hurry. 

This time, she would not stop at Solyus, and she felt bad for lying to Isore, who was probably hoping to see her again. On the road after leaving the capital, she wrote a short letter to Noé to tell him she would be back as soon as possible and another to reassure Isore about her departure but to tell her she would bypass Solyus. Both letters tore at her heart, but they were necessary. What mattered was that she returned to Valrosse as quickly as possible. 

Once she had crossed the great bridge, she shifted into high gear, signaling Solace to speed up. It was a six-hour ride on horseback between Osleanos and Solyus, so about eight hours if she didn't go through Solyus and headed straight for the passage that connected Malden to Valrosse. 

Kaelin knew she couldn't afford to go through Ground 11, as fighting was likely raging there, and she hoped with all her heart that the Maldens hadn't crossed the border and that Noé hadn't yet been sent into battle.

She galloped on Solace's back for hours and hours, almost forgetting to eat. She stopped halfway when she crossed the Maldenian border. She had already been riding for eight hours. Having left around four in the morning, it was now noon, and she threw herself on the provisions she had picked up at the inn and dozed off for a good hour. 

When she woke up, she finally felt rested, and Solace, who had also fallen into a deep sleep, followed suit. It was time to set off again. On the way there, Kaelin had to cross a huge valley and make a sharp U-turn. She headed straight for Valeth to the east, then turned and headed south towards Port Enanta. 

This detour took her an additional eight long hours.

When Kaelin arrived in Port Enanta, it was nine o'clock in the evening. Night had already fallen and a foul-smelling smoke filled the air.

The Maldenians had attacked Port Enanta. The Valrossian army had clearly repelled them, but many houses had been destroyed. And the smell of death hung in the air.

Kaelin panicked, wondering where Noé could be. 

And if he was okay. 

Sol tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. He had gotten used to falling asleep next to Kaelin, peacefully resting his head on her shoulder. Without her, nothing was the same. Osleanos was too quiet, too much at war, and his heart no longer beat as strongly.

He missed her terribly, and for the first time, he was painfully aware of it. 

He hesitated to contact her as he reread the note she had left on the small table next to his bed. He reread the short letter over and over again until he knew it by heart. He could almost hear Kaelin saying those words and telling him to take care of himself. But Sol couldn't really take care of himself without Kaelin. 

Without Kaelin, Sol no longer enjoyed the things in life and found everything dull and colorless. 

He wondered if it was the same for her, if she missed him, if she had arrived in Valrosse by now, and above all, if she would go into battle the next day. He already knew the answer to that last question, but he dreaded it. He wanted her to never fight again, to take care of herself and look after her own well-being.

The prince couldn't sleep that night and wandered around the castle to occupy his mind. Surprisingly, he didn't encounter anyone. No guards, no royal family, no Selhara, not even Thibalt. Most of them had left for the battlefield and not all of them would return. 

Then the next day arrived, the day stretched on, Sol was called to battle and went to the battlefield. Then another day, and another, so that weeks passed and Sol's interest in the woman who was once his prisoner never faded.

He never heard from Kaelin and did not see her on the battlefield for weeks, which turned into a month. 

Sol was going crazy. 

He had to see her again. 

Chapter Text

A month had passed. It was the longest month of Kaelin's life. A month of doubt and fear, but above all a month without Sol and without any news from him. She didn't dare send him any sign of life. She hadn't even tried to contact him for fear of doing something stupid, and imagined that it was probably the same on his side. Was it modesty or fear? Neither of them could bring themselves to contact the other. 

On the other hand, the brunette had been able to return to her friends, to Noé, who, fortunately, had been called to fight the day after his return to Port Enanta. She was there, alongside her loved ones and those from her village, and could finally devote herself body and soul to this endless war. 

But she missed him. And she refused to admit it. She missed him, but she didn't want to miss him. She had become furiously attached to this forbidden prince. 

Even though Noé didn't know the details, Kaelin had vaguely told him about her adventures with the second prince of Malden, and Noé didn't like the blond's attitude at all. Not only was it probably caused by jealousy, but Noé understood that this surprising attraction between them could only cause them harm. 

Noé wasn't fooled. He understood that his childhood friend was falling in love with the prince of the enemy camp. And that was very bad news. As sweet and kind as she liked to describe him, he was still an enemy and a very serious rival to Noé. 

This new day, with all the doubts still very much present, was another day of battle where Kaelin and Noé would be sent to the battlefield. Once again, they had left Port Enanta to go to the central battle zone that was no longer even named: Ground 11. 

This war was ingrained in the DNA of both kingdoms, and neither could imagine that this eleventh conflict would ever end or that another would not arise a few years later after the end of the current war. Kaelin did not want to ask herself such questions: she did not know everything they knew and knew that hope would drain her motivation. In the end, it was better to be negative and pessimistic. 

Every day during that past month, the brunette would get up, get ready, and go into battle, enduring several hours of riding on horseback each time she traveled, determined to return to Port Enanta as soon as she could, given that Noé was sent on fewer missions. Indeed, anyone could be sent into battle, but each person's abilities were taken into account, and Noé was definitely not a good fighter. 

But on that day, Kaelin was sent to Ground 11, and so was Noé. They had traveled the entire way together, but when they arrived, the generals separated them into different squads. Kaelin gave Noé a quick wave, not wanting to insist for fear that what had happened with Morwen would happen again.

And Morwen. Morwen was just as much on Kaelin's mind. She thought about him even more since she had returned. She thought about him, she thought about Osric, his family, and Isore. She had heard very little from Isore, as she had been deployed to help at a camp to treat the wounded from the war. Kaelin hated being opposed to her friend, she hated everything about this war, about Thibalt, the Maldenian royal family and the Valrossian royal family. No one was doing anything and people were dying because of the selfish choices of leaders who sent only their children to fight without going themselves. 

The Valrossian royal family was discreet, or at least much more so than the Maldenian family. They were merely figureheads who followed a conflict that caused so many deaths, wisely protected from all violence in Valeth. Kaelin had heard that the Valrossian royal family had no children, probably due to the king's infertility, which, despite himself, had become known. 

Fortunately, the royal family was still quite young and had more time to find an heir than Malden's, whose two leaders were older and already had two sons, one of whom was ready to be heir to the throne. Kaelin dreaded this. The day Thibalt would be named king, the violence of the current war would surely be pale in comparison to what was to come. She was afraid of what would happen to Sol, Isore, Osric, and Mia. 

Kaelin took a deep breath and stood perfectly behind the general who was giving them their instructions for the day.  

“We are outnumbered,” the general began. "I ask that you redouble your efforts and be as alert as possible. We have never been in such a situation. Please remain at your posts and do not leave them.“ He turned his head toward Kaelin and pointed at her. ”Kaelin, I want you at the front. Kill as many Maldenians as you can. I want results."

Kaelin hated war.

“Today the two Maldenian princes are on the battlefield. I want you to take care of Sol Riven. Is that clear?”

Kaelin nodded slowly. She hated war even more. She hated everything. She hated them all. Anxiety gripped her with its sharp claws.

Sol was positioned on the front line of the battlefield, as was Thibalt, who was looking forward to killing more citizens of Valrosse. The blond man was afraid of running into Kaelin. He wanted to run into her. He suspected she was there, but he both wanted and feared to encounter her.

What would happen if they met? Would they have to kill each other? Would they just fight and pretend? Would she try to kill him? He knew he couldn't do it. And would those strange memories resurface while he was fighting? 

Time passed, and Sol was fighting a multitude of angry Valrossians who were throwing themselves at him. He wanted to shout at them that he understood them, that he wanted to stop everything, that he hated this war as much as they did. Sol wanted to shout Kaelin's name.

But it wasn't possible.

So Sol killed again and again. His blade flew and danced with the wind through the rain of blood and the nauseating smell of dead bodies on the ground. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was how to fight. His mind was empty, desperate, even panicked. 

Suddenly, he saw a man who was quite tall, perhaps a little taller than himself, with stormy red curly hair and large green eyes. Sol recognized him immediately: it was Noé Vôllster, Kaelin's best friend. He was certain of it. He had heard about him so many times and still remembered Kaelin going to his rescue during their first confrontation. 

Noé rushed towards him.

He knew. 

He knew who he was and he knew he had to fight him. 

The actions came so fast that Sol narrowly avoided the young man's blade piercing his right eye. Noé began to attack again and again with all his might. He was a very poor fighter, his movements were disordered, and his strength was not directed in the right place. 

If he had been anyone else, Sol would have simply killed him with a backhand. He began to look around for Kaelin. He couldn't spare him indefinitely. She had to take him away from him. If Sol hurt Noé, or worse, Kaelin would never forgive him, and Sol cared too much about Kaelin to hurt her in any way. 

She was nowhere to be found. He had to fight.

Noé continued to aim in all directions with a hesitation that would surely have caused his downfall against another fighter, or worse, against Thibalt, he would already be dead. Sol had to fight back, pushing his sword back again and again and still looking around him. 

Then new memories came flooding back to his mind. 

“Damn it. Not now!” he whispered.

“Focus, I'm your enemy!” Noé announced.  

“Damn it!”

He saw this child running and himself running after her. She had infinitely long, sublime hair, raven black in color, reflecting red in the sun. She was flamboyant. He wanted to chase away these memories to focus on the fight and waved his sword to parry Noé's attacks. 

There she was, that child, spinning around in his mind like a dancer finishing her choreography. 

“Go away!”

Sol swung his sword again, and when he came to his senses, he looked up. Noé was lying on the ground, his leg dripping with blood and in such an unnatural position that it was probably broken. 

Noé wasn't moving.

And Kaelin was watching the scene just a few steps away from them. Helpless and panicked, she rushed over to Sol as Noé was being carried away, gasping in pain.

Chapter Text

Kaelin had witnessed the scene. Sol was in disarray and Noé lay defeated on the ground. Kaelin was angry, angry at Sol and at the whole world. She rushed over to him as she signaled to a soldier to take Noé away.

He seemed to be only wounded, but given the state of his leg, she doubted he would ever regain full use of it and would surely suffer greatly.

Why had Sol done that? He knew, he had surely understood who Noé was and made the connection between the stories and the man in front of him. So why? Why had he hurt him? She couldn't accept it. 

Kaelin rushed at Sol and struck him with her sword, which he parried with one hand.

 “Why, Sol? Why did you hurt Noé?”

“I was trying to spare him, but—” Kaelin slashed Sol's face, and the pain of the deep cut caused him to stagger backward slightly, narrowly missing her next attack. “Stop! Let's talk!”

“We have nothing to say to each other, you know that very well. Neither of us has contacted the other anyway!” She attacked again, knocking Sol back and sending him crashing to the ground. 

She attacked again and again, cornering him against a large rock wall with his back to it. He looked at her, refusing to defend himself any further. He stood still and looked at her, his sword pointed at her heart.

“Go ahead. I know you won't do it.”

Kaelin didn't answer and flew into a rage that made her lose all self-control, attacking Sol and beating him up, most of which he managed to parry. She continued again and again until Sol began to spit blood.

He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, and she was on top of him, hitting him as hard as she could. He didn't move, his lower lip was cut, and blood pooled on the floor. He didn't want to fight anymore, for anything or anyone. He was too crazy about her to make any more concessions. 

As she continued to punch him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down with him. 

“Let go of me!” Kaelin struggled and thrashed around. 

He rested his head against Kaelin's neck and held her even tighter against him. She finally gave up and stopped moving, as if fused with him. Their hearts were broken into a thousand pieces, and Sol was so exhausted that his head was throbbing and he could feel himself resisting. 

Neither of them. Neither had the strength to resist, to fight. 

Kaelin slid to her knees and rested her forehead against Sol's shoulder as tears streamed down her cheeks. She remained still and finally accepted Sol's hug. 

When they couldn't take it anymore, they looked at each other. 

Kaelin looked at Sol's damaged lip and his beautiful blond hair, tousled and stuck to his forehead with sweat from the fight. His exposed skin was turning purple, and it was probably her fault. She began to feel guilty, then thought of Noé and didn't know what to think anymore. 

He wiped the brunette's tears away with the back of his hand and looked at her tenderly. He was so handsome. Perhaps it was his magnificent gray eyes with their bluish tint, or the gentleness of his gestures. 

He moved closer, she moved closer.

He kissed the brunette on the forehead and repositioned her head so that it was level with his. He grabbed her back and pulled her closer to him as hard as he could and as close as she would let him. 

He moved closer, she moved closer. 

She wiped away a drop of blood running down Sol's cheek and he relaxed his body to tighten the embrace they shared. 

He moved closer, she didn't dare move. 

Their breathing quickened and neither dared break this moment that spoke volumes. They knew they were at a point of no return and that whatever happened next was probably already written. They could not escape this moment.

He kissed her, she didn't move. 

Sol's lips were warm and pleasant as they danced on Kaelin's. At first, she didn't want to respond to the kiss and placed her hands on the blond's chest, wanting to push him away. Then he tightened his embrace. 

And Kaelin knew it was already too late. 

So she kissed him gently, responding more passionately to the kiss, placing both hands on Sol's shoulders and leaning in even closer. She tasted the blood from Sol's cut lip in her mouth and ran her tongue over it. Nothing disgusted her. She wanted to appreciate everything about him. 

The kiss lasted for several long minutes. Neither of them wanted to let go as Kaelin tightened her grip on Sol's cheeks and Sol tightened his embrace. Their lips danced together to the rhythm of a physical and psychological battle. Neither of them admitted defeat. 

They finally timidly broke away from each other, red-faced and panting. Neither of them could breathe, and they thanked the gods for taking them away from the battlefield for this moment and for finding themselves in this corner of Ground 11. 

Neither dared to speak; the silence almost hurt them. They wanted to dive back in, dive back into each other's eyes, kiss again and never stop. 

Kaelin wanted to push him away and not give in again to this sweet temptation that continued to make her desire him fiercely. She wanted to kiss him again and again. She wanted him to hold her close. She wanted to smell his scent and feel the warmth of his lips. 

But they were on a battlefield. They had to fight. 

Their breathing slowed and they were able to speak again, breaking out of the trance that had held them for what felt like an eternity. 

Kaelin got up and Sol was the second to catch up with her, quickly reaching her height. She was about to leave in a silence that hurt them both. What could they say after such an event? They had just succumbed to the worst temptation and braved the worst of taboos. The brunette wanted to leave and fight, thinking about what had just happened later. 

She was shaken by a realization. 

What if something happened to Sol? What if he died? 

It was far too late to worry, and Sol was a great fighter who would not let himself be killed so easily.

“Wait.” Sol called out before Kaelin left. He gently took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “I know we won't see each other again for a long time, but just let me do it, one last time.”

He kissed her again. More passionately this time. Kaelin's head was spinning, her mind clouded with thoughts of Sol, his hands, his arms, his chest, but most of all, his lips. She was intoxicated by him. Intoxicated by this kiss that, in her mind, would never end. 

She responded to the kiss again, abandoning all resistance. She had to respond to him, absolutely, she had to lose herself in him, here and now. 

After more passion, and even more forbidden desire, Kaelin and Sol broke apart and, without looking back, returned to the battlefield where they truly belonged in their poor, unhappy world, invaded by sadness and despair. 

Chapter Text

The day passed and the fighting continued to rage. When night fell and the clashes subsided slightly for the night and most of the troops were brought back to camp, Kaelin returned. 

Everything had changed in her mind. She hated herself for succumbing to Sol, she hated herself for not resisting this crazy temptation, but on the other hand, she was almost happy. She wondered how she could be happy when her kingdom was at war and she had just passionately kissed the prince of the enemy kingdom. 

She wouldn't tell Noé, she wouldn't tell anyone. No one must know what had happened. It was clear that this was a tacit agreement between Sol and her: if they wanted to preserve this fragment of happiness and forbidden love that they had begun to build, no one must know, and no one would know. 

But how could she see him again? Would he stay at the camp for the night like her and not return to Osleanos, just as she would not return to Port Enanta? She did not know. Her current priority had to be Noé and finding out how he was doing. Her heart ached as she thought back to the passionate kiss she had shared with the man who had surely broken her best friend's leg.

Something didn't add up. She knew Sol wouldn't have hurt Noé on purpose, and it seemed that this was indeed the case, but why had he hurt him anyway? He seemed distracted when she watched him, and of course she hadn't had time to ask him what was wrong or why he was so unfocused. She blushed at the mere thought of their last “activity” and pushed the memory from her mind. She would think about it later, but not now.

When Kaelin arrived at the medical camp, Noé was lying on one of the beds set up by the doctors in the area. He wasn't moving and seemed to simply have his eyes closed. The brunette felt reassured, but felt worse when she saw the redhead's leg completely wrapped in bandages from his ankle to the top of his thigh.

Noé opened his eyes when his friend arrived, recognizing her footsteps, which he knew so well. He gave her a big smile and motioned for her to come closer, which she did, sitting on the edge of his bed so she could be closer to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“With one leg missing,” Noé laughed.

“I'm sorry.”

Kaelin looked around, waiting for the doctors and visitors to leave so they could have a little more privacy. Once they were finally alone, Kaelin spoke again. 

"I know it was Sol who did this to you. "

“You have to forget about him, Kaelin.” Noé grabbed the brunette's wrist, surprising her with his sudden touch. “Do you see what he did to me?” 

Kaelin didn't answer. She didn't know what to say or do. She was genuinely sorry for him and she obviously resented Sol, but flashbacks of their kiss kept coming back to her whenever she thought of him and she was unable to think of anything else. 

Kaelin couldn't actually bring herself to be angry with Sol. She was almost happy that Noé had been hurt so that they could get closer. And she hated herself, she hated herself more than anything for having this despicable thought. She hated herself because, for once, she had put her own happiness before that of Noé, who had done so much for her.

“I'm sorry,” she repeated. 

“Kaelin. Don't tell me you saw each other again after that? Look at the state I'm in, damn it!”

The brunette looked at her friend's bloody leg, but she couldn't see anything but Sol. Sol and only Sol, no confrontation, no injured Noé, just Sol and his beautiful gray eyes. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything. "

“But that's not the problem! You weren't there, there was nothing you could have done anyway!” He sighed and grimaced as he pressed down on his leg, trying to get up. "I know what you're thinking. I know how you... feel. But you can't, Kaelin, you don't have the right to, not for me. "

“I'm sorry, Noé. Don't worry, I won't see him again.”

With that, the two friends exchanged a few more words, and with sadness and despair, Kaelin left the room, leaving her friend lying there on the bed, wounded and with a horrible lie in his head. 

Kaelin would see Sol again, no matter what. 

It must have been around eight o'clock in the evening, and all the soldiers were gathering around the fire to eat. Sol had followed and decided not to go with Thibalt, who had returned to Osleanos, categorically refusing to stay in the uncomfortable camp beds, something the cadet couldn't care less about. 

Sol sat down by the fire and tried to warm his hands, which were sore from the cold and his injuries. It must be said that everyone had been very surprised to see him so badly beaten, especially since he had been struck with bare hands rather than swords. Who on earth could have such a grudge against this kind prince who was so close to his people? Even for a Valrossian, it seemed crazy. 

Sol sat down next to a man who must have been about his father's age. He was in the habit of ignoring status and spending time with the other soldiers without asking too many questions. The man next to him had such a gentle face despite his thick beard, which made him look stern. He had a smile and sparkling eyes that gave him an almost fatherly air.

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

“Good evening, Alven, is that right?”

“Absolutely! I am honored that you, my prince, have remembered my name.” "

Sol smiled and didn't raise it. He remembered the names of everyone he met without exception. Alven may have been surprised, but if he knew him well, he would have known that this was a real habit of Sol's. The blond man simply nodded. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I'm feeling fine, Your Majesty. The battle is tough, but today it has just taken place. I must say that I am an old man with no children and no wife, so no one is waiting for me at home!”

“Didn't you want to have children and get married?”

“Everyone dreams of romance.” This sentence tugged at Sol's heartstrings, and he couldn't help but think of Kaelin and their heated exchange. “I'm too old for that! I gave up on all kinds of love a long time ago. But you, you are young, you will find your sweetheart!”

Sol didn't answer, and Alven burst out laughing. His presence was so soothing that Sol began to laugh more timidly with him as he grabbed a meat skewer that was served to them for dinner. 

Accompanied by numerous glasses of wine, Sol spent the evening with Alven and was soon drunk from all the alcohol he had drunk. It was his way of letting go, of enjoying his people, his own, those he loved. 

“You have a woman in your heart, my Prince?”

Sol sighed, and despite the fact that his head was spinning, he couldn't bring himself to answer. It was true. He couldn't say it out of modesty and a desire to protect Kaelin, but it was true. He wanted to promise himself that he would find her again, kiss her even more passionately than they had that afternoon.

He wanted to lose himself in her and for her to lose herself in him. 

"I can see from the look in your eyes that you have someone in your heart. Don't worry, I won't say anything, but in exchange, let me tell you a story, probably the most important one of my life. "

Sol simply nodded and sat down on the makeshift bench set up in the camp to hear what Alven had to tell him.

“Once upon a time, there was a happy family and their little girl, Maelith.”

Chapter Text

Sol was initially a little disturbed to hear this old man telling him such a personal story when they had only known each other for a few hours, but he listened to him with particular attention. Signaling to Alven that he was ready, the man cheerfully agreed.

So Alven resumed his story. 

“A long time ago, I was very close to a couple: Camelia and Erythas. They were beautiful people who were always willing to help those in need.” He paused to scratch his beard and continued. "Camelia was a truly sublime woman... ah, good old Erythas, lucky man! I remember she had gorgeous long black hair and sparkling little eyes of the same color. Erythas, for his part, was also a very handsome man! Together, they definitely had everything it took to make the most beautiful children. Erythas had short brown hair and blue eyes, the color of the ocean. "

A soldier handed Sol another skewer, which he took, nodding gently and waving his hand slightly to show his thanks. 

“One fine day, Erythas told me that Camelia was pregnant, and it was one of the happiest days of my life. As I told you, I have neither wife nor children, and seeing my friends happy and expecting their first child was the greatest gift I could have received.”

 “Why didn't Camelia tell you herself?” 

“Camelia was in very poor health and stayed at home most of the time without going out much.” Sol nodded and Alven continued. "So, as I was saying, Erythas told me about Camelia's pregnancy, and I was the happiest man on earth. Their child was born a few months later, and she was just as beautiful as her parents. I remember she had her father's eyes and her mother's hair. She was a radiant child, and they decided to name her Maelith."

“That's a beautiful name,” Sol remarked with a smile.

 “Isn't it! Well, that's not all. In addition to being beautiful, the child was very intelligent and made her parents so proud that they put all their savings into sending her to one of the best schools in Osleanos.”

“Which one?”

“The Central School.”

“I went there too!”

Sol paused for a moment, then told himself that his mind must be playing tricks on him. Why on earth was a puzzle whose pieces he had long since lost forming before his eyes? He didn't know this Maelith, but physically she reminded him of someone he knew only too well. 

He didn't react any further and simply let Alven continue his story.

“I remember that I used to visit the child regularly and look after her when her parents were away. It was a real joy. But one day, everything changed, my Prince.” He paused and placed his hands on Sol's shoulders apologetically. "I'm not trying to blame you or the royal family. I just heard about your reputation and thought that maybe you could change something."

Sol didn't know how to react. He was apprehensive about the rest of the old man's story and feared that it would take a turn where he would once again have to blame Thibalt's barbaric actions.

His fears were confirmed.

“One fine day, when the child was still very young and the family was perfectly happy, a group came knocking on my friends' door saying they had to take the child away. I still remember them saying it was on the orders of the royal family because the child was too bright and outshone the two Maldenian princes. Can you believe it?”

Sol finally began to piece together all the missing parts of his memory. He could see the child running so fast in front of him again. He could see her long black hair blowing in the wind. 

For the first time, she turned around and held out her hand to him, inviting him to join her. He saw her big blue ocean-colored eyes looking deep into his. He saw her laughing, and he saw himself joining her to play in the courtyard near the castle and the school. 

"They took her away. I think they wanted to lock her up or even worse, sell her. I couldn't let that happen! Not in honor of my friends and what little humanity remains in Malden. So they took her away, and later, I infiltrated the place to get her back."

“Why do you trust me so much?”

"I can see that you are a beautiful person, Your Majesty. You will not betray me. "

Sol let out a soft laugh and nodded. Given the pieces falling into place in his head, he was certain he would not report Alven. He would not have done so anyway. It was as if he knew her, this child Alven spoke of with such emotion.

"When I was able to retrieve her, I immediately took her back to her parents. I remember that she was still asleep when I brought her back to her parents, who were in tears. "

Alven began to shed a few tears himself, trying to continue speaking despite the threat of sobs that were becoming stronger and stronger. Sol gave him a tender smile to let him know she was still listening.

“I remember Camelia crying her heart out and telling me they couldn't keep her.”

“Why was that?”

“Camelia had a good point. If they kept her, the guards would come back for her, and this time things would surely be less peaceful.”

“What did you do?” Sol asked, deeply invested in Alven's words.

“There was only one solution: we decided to help Kaelin escape. I helped her pass Ground 11, and she was put on a boat and sent to the neighboring kingdom.”

Sol stood up abruptly. It was her, the child he had spent his childhood with. He finally remembered. She was the one who always impressed him with her insight, the one who was so beautiful and daring. 

This child was Sol's first love, his childhood sweetheart. The one he had forgotten was her. 

He sat back down and remained silent, letting the man continue. 

“It was the worst thing I ever had to do in my life. Separating my friends from their child, even if it meant protecting her, was terrifying. I remember the child crying on the boat, I remember her parents' sobs and my own.” He wiped the tears from his face, and I remember the sadness of that moment. I remember every second of that part of my life."

“What happened to Camelia and Erythas?”

Alven looked up at the sky and this time let the tears flow gently down his face. Soon there were so many that he could no longer speak easily. 

"Unfortunately, they are no longer with us. Camelia died of her illness, and Erythas couldn't bear a world without Camelia and Maelith."

The pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. Everything gradually came together, and Sol realized that he should have known: he should have known from the beginning who this child was. He should have known that he would fall in love with her again.

“My friends are no longer with us, and I miss them every day.” The alcohol in Alven's blood didn't help, and his words were disjointed, but they were so sincere that they touched Sol's heart. “I don't know where Maelith is either, or if she's okay. Every day I pray that she's alive and happy.”

“She is. At least, I'm sure she is.” Sol lied, completely thrown off balance by the situation. 

The evening passed and Maelith's memories faded in Alven's mind, but not in Sol's, who knew. He knew who she was, he knew where she was. Sol knew that the next day he would have to find a way to tell her, to make her understand.

He remembered perfectly the little girl he used to play with throughout his childhood, back when his parents still allowed him to play with the children of the town without locking him away with his books and lessons, isolated from the world. He remembered the first time he fell in love with this girl whose eyes seemed to want to read his soul. He even remembered the day he was separated from his friends and how she was the one he missed the most. 

Sol understood one thing that evening: he had fallen back in love with Kaelin Altherya, who had once been Maelith, a young Maldenian girl he loved when he was a child.

Chapter Text

Another day had passed, and time was passing far too quickly for Kaelin. Noé was doing better; his leg would certainly not recover anytime soon, but one day, perhaps, he would regain partial use of it. He had sadly accepted his fate, and Kaelin visited him every day to see how he was progressing. 

Neither of them dared to bring up the subject of Sol again, or rather, Kaelin avoided any reference Noé might make to the prince. The brunette was not resigned to forgetting him and instead fought as she was so accustomed to doing. The last few days had been long, and she held out hope of seeing Sol again as soon as possible, but to no avail. 

Sol was nowhere to be found on the battlefield or at the Valrosse border, at Ground 11. She had searched everywhere, hoping to talk to him and spend even a few minutes with him. She still couldn't get him out of her mind, and that made her even more crazy about him. Even though she still couldn't put her true feelings into words, she knew full well that her attachment to him was much more than just attachment. 

Another day had dawned, and it was clearly another day that bore witness to the length of the conflict. Noé had stayed at the camp, and despite the fact that he was limping and therefore had some difficulty moving around, he helped as best he could, caring for the wounded who were in much worse shape than he was. 

It had been about a week since Kaelin had seen Sol, and she was desperate. She didn't understand why it was so hard to see him, especially given how many times she had run into Thibalt and tried to confront him, but she always had to face an army of Maldenians protecting him, and getting close to him was impossible. She was all the more desperate because their last encounter had somehow sealed their respective fates, and it seemed absurd to her that they hadn't seen each other again in the meantime. 

Time dragged on until the first day of the following week finally arrived. Kaelin found herself on the front line, fighting hordes of soldiers who were charging at her as if they had something to avenge. It was strange, because she hadn't changed anything about herself, and no one knew about Sol and her. 

Except for Thibalt, who was now standing a few steps away from Kaelin, flashing her a nasty smile. He knew. About her. About Sol. About both of them. He clearly hadn't forgotten that she had tried to kill him. She had to get revenge. She saw Morwen again, looking at her encouragingly.

The madness she had once forgotten thanks to Sol was returning, and she realized that her mental stability now depended on the blond man and that it was not sustainable; they could not continue like this. She had to live, for herself, for Morwen, and for Valrosse. She was a warrior destroyed by war, but she would never let herself be destroyed again. 

She walked towards Thibalt, who didn't move an inch and whose smile grew wider with every step Kaelin took. He wanted to confront her, he wanted to beat her, kill her, and make her brother miserable.

Kaelin too. This desire for revenge consumed her even more than it had ever consumed her, destroying her more than it had ever destroyed her. She remembered Noé's words that revenge was never the answer, but she knew, she knew what she had to do, and that no matter the cost, whether it was her life or her honor, she had to do it. Kaelin had to kill Thibalty and emerge victorious from this confrontation with this awful barbarian prince who was slowly destroying his people. She had to avenge Osric, Mia, Amber, and Isore, and restore Valrosse to its former glory, and bring peace with Malden. 

And that meant Thibalt's death.

She started running towards Thibalt, no matter what. She had to succeed, she had to fight this final decisive battle.

But as she rushed towards her sworn enemy, a hand grabbed her and turned her around, pulling her into a corner. This made Thibalt grimace from a distance. She saw him make an annoyed face, then look away and resume the fight. Someone had just prevented her from killing Thibalt. 

That someone was none other than Sol, who had just dropped her off in a remote corner of Ground 11. He was exhausted and panting as he laid Kaelin on the ground. Covered in wounds, his face showed signs of fatigue and perfectly defined dark circles under his eyes. But where was the splendor of Sol Riven, the wonderful prince of Malden? The magnificent prince with infinite gentleness and kindness seemed exhausted. 

“Why did you stop me from attacking him? I was so close to my goal!”

“Kaelin, we need to talk!”

“You disappear for a week and expect me to listen to you as if nothing happened! I looked everywhere for you!”

“I'm sorry.” He caught his breath. “I don't have much time, I need to talk to you.”

“Well, talk.”

“Kaelin, you're not Valrossian, you're Maldenian. We're old childhood friends.”

Kaelin's face fell. It couldn't be. It couldn't be true. Everything she believed, everything she thought, her people, the citizens of Valrosse, her brothers in arms couldn't be her enemies.

It wasn't true, it was simply impossible.

“Stop talking nonsense!”

“Kae.” Sol knelt down, placing one knee on the ground where Kaelin was sitting, and rested his forehead against hers. “I have no reason to lie to you. Believe me, I hate myself even more for not remembering us, and especially you. How could I have forgotten you?”

Sol began to recount all the details he knew, whether from his own memories or Alven's account. He told her everything in minute detail, watching Kaelin's face fall a little more each word.

He knew it would be hard for her to accept the truth, but he didn't think it would be this hard. He blamed himself. He wanted to protect her from his past and present and make her future a paradise. But Sol had nothing but blood and sadness on his hands. His heart was broken, and he had just broken the heart of the one he loved most in this world. 

“You're lying! It can't be true!” She stood up, pulling at her hair, panicking at the thought of Sol's words, which kept spinning around in her head. "Everything I thought I was can't be a lie. I know I'm an orphan, but I can't believe that everything I think is so wrong. I can't believe I defended the kingdom that was opposed to mine!"

Kaelin got angry and kicked a pebble on the ground, clenching her fist so tightly that blood ran from her palms. It was definitely not possible. Why did nothing ever go right? Why was her existence a series of misfortunes and endless questions? Nothing and no one could answer them. 

She rushed over to Sol, who looked at her sadly and helplessly.

“I've been thinking about how to tell you this for a week.” He looked at the ground and clenched his fist. “I can't sleep anymore.”

“You can’t just be sorry and tell me that!” She hit his chest, over and over again. “You can’t say that! You can’t think that!” She began to cry heavily. “You can’t tell me that I lied to everyone and that my very existence is a lie.”

“Your life isn't a lie and I’m here for you. Always.”

“That's not enough! It's not enough!”

She sobbed, and nothing seemed to be able to stop her. Sol prayed that no one would find them and that they could remain undisturbed.

He needed this moment to tell her the truth, about her origins and about his own thoughts.

“Kaelin, look at me.” He cupped her cheeks and finally stood up, looking down at her. She raised her head, her eyes red from crying, and finally let him speak. “I understand your pain, but I couldn't not tell you. You have a right to know.”

She began to cry even more, not really knowing what to do or how to respond to such words. Of course, he was right, but she still couldn't accept the truth. There was no way she could accept it, either now or ever. She knew, but she would always remain a Valrossian at heart, just as Morwen was. 

“Kaelin.”

She didn't answer and let her heart melt onto Sol's, hoping he would catch her as she fell and shape the pain inside her into something sweeter, happier, as he knew so well how to do.

“I love you.”

Kaelin didn't answer, completely frozen in place and, above all, not knowing how to respond to such words. The only thing left inside her was what she felt for this man who had just confessed his love to her. She had to turn what was left, this feeling, into something stronger, something infinite. 

She kissed him with all the passion and anger left inside her and decided to succumb to the sad truth.

Chapter Text

Their kiss was longer than the previous one. Perhaps it was because neither of them wanted it to end, or because they were afraid of being separated again for a long time. 

During the kiss, Kaelin bit her inner lip. He drove her crazy, intoxicated her, made her fall in love. This reality was far too difficult for her to accept, and she didn't want to resign herself to it and accept the harsh truth that she was madly in love with the prince of the enemy camp, who had just told her that they were childhood friends and that she was from the same kingdom as him. She didn't want the kiss to end because during that time, all her doubts ceased and her fear vanished with the softness of Sol's lips and the warmth of his hands on her cheeks. 

Kaelin wanted to forget everything and deepened the kiss, bringing her face even closer to the prince's. She loved him. So much. But it wasn't as easy for her to say as it was for him. She had grown up in war and combat, had known no other love than that of Morwen and Noé, and had never learned to say “I love you.”

But she wanted to learn. She just wasn't able to yet.

When they parted, Kaelin was no longer crying, and Sol smiled at her.

“Promise me I won't have to wait a week before I see you again.”

Kissing her hand, Sol replied with the biggest smile.

“I promise.”

A few days passed, and Kaelin and Sol finally began corresponding by letter. They contacted each other regularly and saw each other as often as they could, braving the prohibitions of their respective camps, sometimes meeting for just a few minutes. 

Kaelin thought back on their recent interactions and didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to express her feelings toward Sol. Not only did she feel guilty towards Noé, but she also thought every day about how she should have acted and wondered constantly if Sol was upset that she hadn't responded to his declaration. She told herself that he wasn't, since he didn't seem particularly affected, but she couldn't get inside his head. 

Sol, in his mind, thought quite differently. He didn't care that Kaelin told him she loved him, or not: her actions spoke volumes, and he had quickly come to the conclusion that his feelings were most certainly mutual. 

 What Sol feared was not that they would see each other again, that they would love each other, or that Kaelin would show any other sign of affection, but rather what might happen to the world around them: the war, the citizens, and above all, their safety. He loved Kaelin with all his heart, and that was enough, but he couldn't guarantee her safety or that they would ever truly be together. 

What Sol knew for sure was that Kaelin had to face Thibalt, no matter what. That day seemed to be dangerously close, not only because Thibalt spent his time provoking her on the battlefield, but also because she responded very clearly to all his provocations, which delighted Sol's brother. 

The other days of the war passed, and they were all the same. The fighting, the deaths, the tears, and the blood sang the song of the eternal drama of war, not only because nothing changed, but also because hope had long since dried up. 

And then that fateful day arrived. Kaelin was once again stationed on the front line, facing hordes and hordes of Maldenians who were targeting her exclusively under Thibalt's orders. Sol, worried sick, tried to push them back, but he was too far from the central battlefield, and getting closer would have been suicide. 

Kaelin, meanwhile, was advancing dangerously toward Thibalt, who was fighting alongside numerous Valrossians who had managed to break through the wall of Maldenian soldiers. She moved closer and closer until she discovered a stunning woman fighting with impressive grace and strength. 

It was Selhara, the general of the squadron in which Sol served. She was a beautiful young woman with long brown hair and piercing green eyes. She was so beautiful that Kaelin felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought that such a stunning woman was so close to Sol. 

She pushed the thought aside and passed the general to get closer to Thibalt, who was fighting a few other soldiers with disconcerting ease. She moved closer and closer. 

Then Kaelin found herself standing in front of him. 

Kaelin Altherya was facing her sworn enemy: Thibalt Riven, brother of the man she loved and murderer of her adoptive father. 

“Well, well, Kaelin! It hasn't been that long! A month, maybe two!”

“I'm not here to talk to you.” She pointed her sword at him. “I'm here to fight and face you.”

“You seem very polite, but you can talk to me more casually, come on!” He approached and swung his sword, which Kaelin automatically parried. “We're almost half-brother and half-sister, aren't we? My brother just needs to take a little more action.”

“Don't talk about him!” She attacked from all sides, trying to knock his sword away, and Thibalt was surprised to see that the daughter of the man he had once killed had clearly surpassed her master. 

“It seems the daughter is much more interesting than the father!”

Kaelin, mad with rage, resumed her attack and tried to destabilize her opponent by knocking him to the ground, but without success. She then tried again to make him lose his sword, but the result was the same: Thibalt did not give in. Thibalt was very strong, and she understood better why Morwen had lost to him. 

“Fight, Kaelin! Honor your father! And Sol!”

Rage got the better of her, she made some bad moves, and Thibalt managed to take her by surprise, landing a blow on her right shoulder that made her groan in pain. But that wasn't all. Kaelin wasn't going to take it lying down. She attacked back, harder this time, landing two blows: one on his right leg and another directly on his hand, which destabilized the man in front of her. 

"You don't talk much, but you know how to fight. "

“You won't win.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“My heart. It's my heart that makes me believe that, something you don't have, Your Majesty. Know that I am the one who will cause your downfall, I will be your killer and the very reason for your fears.”

Thibalt burst out laughing, and this cast a chill over the battlefield, the other soldiers surprisingly interested in the fight unfolding before their eyes. 

“KAELIN!” Sol shouted from afar, facing other soldiers who were rushing towards him. 

“I will not lose.” These were Kaelin's last words before ending the fight. 

Kaelin launched one attack, then another. She was so fast that Thibalt couldn't even see her move. She was like a snake writhing in all directions with such ease and grace that it was astonishing to see a warrior of her age so talented and yet so young. 

She began to strike more blows, on the right, on the left. Thibalt couldn't touch her, and she struck him so many times that blood began to flow from every part of the prince's body. She struck one last blow and managed to knock the sword out of the hands of the man in front of her. 

His sword landed behind them in the distance, and Thibalt was defenseless. His face contorted with frustration and fear, which gave the brunette extreme pleasure. She had won, she was going to kill him, she was going to finish him off and finally avenge Morwen. 

She raised her sword in a final attack and plunged its blade into the body of what she believed to be Thibalt. 

When she looked up, Selhara was lying on the ground, covered in blood. 

Chapter Text

“Thank you for everything” were the words that Sol thought about over the following days. Thank you for who you were, thank you for what you did, I will always be grateful to you, was the phrase that Sol couldn't get out of his head. 

Selhara was dead.

Selhara would not be coming back. 

Kaelin had killed Selhara while trying to kill Thibalt.

Selhara had sacrificed herself for her brother, and Sol couldn't accept that. If he resented Kaelin, he resented Thibalt even more for allowing Selhara to throw herself in front of him and sacrifice herself.

If Selhara was dead, in Sol's eyes, it was Thibalt's fault, not Kaelin's. He resented the brunette, but given her condition in recent days, he couldn't bring himself to truly blame her. Kaelin hadn't wanted to kill Selhara, but Thibalt had let her die, deliberately. 

He would not forgive him. This had awakened in him a different kind of hatred that he had never known before. 

Sol was in mourning. The people of Malden mourned the death of their most talented general, and Thibalt, frustrated by his defeat, looked at the world with even more hatred than he usually did. Thibalt wasn't sad, he was annoyed and disappointed, and it was for this very reason that Sol hated him even more than he had ever hated him before. 

“Why aren't you crying?” Sol had asked one evening, hoping that Thibalt would give him a real answer to justify his lack of grief.

“Why should I?”

They were gathered at a camp near Ground 11 one evening when Thibalt couldn't return to Osleanos. It was an evening when all the guards had been watching them arguing violently around the fire. 

Sol had become angry and blamed him, and Thibalt had mocked Selhara's death as a necessary sacrifice, justifying that she wasn't important enough to him anyway. The whole camp had heard them. The whole camp understood Thibalt's true colors and who the good prince of the two was. 

That argument remained etched in their memories, and none of the soldiers present that evening could forget Thibalt Riven's cruelty. 

The next day, to appease the citizens, a new ceasefire was signed, bringing a new measure of peace and calm to their minds. Sol returned to Osleanos and Kaelin returned to Port Enanta with Noé.

Time passed slowly, and despite keeping in touch, this time diligently through letters, Kaelin and Sol missed each other and knew that there was only one solution to ease their pain: to see each other. 

So Kaelin took the risk and spoke discreetly about the passage that connected the two kingdoms. Two days later, when she had not heard from Sol, she realized that he had left Osleanos and was heading straight for Valrosse, specifically for Port Enanta. 

It took Sol a whole day to reach Port Enanta, just as it had taken Kaelin. 

And it was an evening like any other, an evening when Kaelin was sitting on a chair in her living room in the silence of a house where Morwen was no longer there and, for once, there was no Noé on his porch. It was on that evening that someone knocked on the door and she opened it, at first timidly, then surprised to see a rather tall man wearing a hood and a neck warmer standing in front of her house. 

She instantly recognized Sol's gray eyes, who, completely exhausted, had just tied his horse to the side of Kaelin's house. She motioned for him to come in, and he finally removed his hood and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I was so afraid of being spotted, and it's so hot under there!” said the blond man, pushing his hair back with one hand. 

“You shouldn't have bothered, Port Enanta is so far from Osleanos you must have left very early.”

“You've done it before, so I can do it, right?”

He removed most of his layers of clothing. Sweating from the long journey, he began to remove his armor and glanced furtively at Kaelin to make sure she wasn't embarrassed. She wasn't; the brunette looked at him with a shy smile.

"It's not very luxurious here, but it'll be a change for you! I can set up the bathtub in the middle of the living room near the fireplace and let you take a bath if you want. I'll come and empty it when you're done.“ She scratched the back of her head nervously. ”There are only two rooms, so I'll let you wash and let me know when you're done. I should have some of Morwen's clothes to lend you. Let me take a look. "

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“You can... stay.” This time, it was his turn to scratch the back of his head nervously. “After all, you weren't embarrassed last time.”

“Last time, we didn't have the same relationship.”

Sol turned crimson and began to stammer.

“I'm joking, whatever you want. Can I at least turn around while you get in the water?” said Kaelin.

Sol nodded and began to undress, then stepped into the warm water and sighed with happiness. Kaelin took the opportunity to turn around and blushed at the sight of Sol's bare chest, which she had seen many times before but never tired of. 

His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed. Kaelin approached him and, without warning, kissed him on the lips before running away the second he opened his eyes. He played dumb, and Kaelin burst out laughing. 

“Kisses are for the brave, Mr. Nudist.”

 "Nudist? What about you? Last time was worse! I saw everything." 

“You remember it well, obviously.”

Kaelin burst out laughing again, while Sol was completely thrown off balance and finally relaxed enough to join in her laughter. The warm water felt soft on his skin, and he felt like this was the best bath he had ever taken. 

Outside, night had fallen several hours ago. All the windows were closed and the curtains drawn in every room except Kaelin's bedroom, as she liked to wake up to the light of the sun. She figured that Sol would sleep in the living room anyway, so it didn't matter if she left the shutters open in her bedroom. 

The evening stretched on and the shyness that had once been present between them had completely vanished. It was as if they had known each other forever, even though it had only been a few months. Kaelin cooked a meat and vegetable stew that Sol was very surprised to find delicious. Did she have other talents that she was hiding from him? 

“That was excellent. You're a wonderful cook!”

“Morwen taught me that recipe.” She paused, sensing that Sol had lowered his eyes and was picking at the leftovers on his plate. “He must be shocked up there to see that I'm seeing a prince.” She laughed softly and rested her elbows on the table before looking Sol straight in the eye. “There was a time when I hated you because you were connected to your brother.”

“Is that still the case?”

“Of course not, I'm even inviting you to my house!” "

“And how do you feel now, Kaelin?”

She didn't know how to answer. She knew what Sol was thinking and what he wanted her to say, but it was so hard, so complicated for her to say. She still had this slight feeling that she would be betraying Morwen if she told him she loved him.

Was she really capable of loving Sol or anyone else? Was that something she could do? She wasn't sure, but what she was sure of was that she loved him in her own way. She was certain that she was in love with him in her own way and would show him in her own way. 

“Get up.”

Sol stood up, a little surprised, and moved closer to her. She took his hands and intertwined her fingers with his before kissing him. More passionately than she had ever done before. He smelled good, he smelled of soap, and his skin was so warm that it almost burned her. He was perfect, he was incredible, he was Sol Riven, the one and only, her one and only. 

She deepened the kiss and slipped a hand under his T-shirt, which instantly prompted Sol to move closer to her and slip another hand under her T-shirt. The kiss was slower, more languid, more intense. 

He lifted her up and carried her to her bedroom. Once he had laid her down on her bed, the blond looked at the brunette one last time. 

“Are you sure about this?”

 “This is my way of telling you that I love you.”

And passion carried them both away into a new, endless dance. 

Chapter Text

When Kaelin woke up, Sol wasn't in bed, and when she got up, she found Sol shirtless, preparing food in her modest little kitchen in the middle of the living room. There was something exquisite about this scene, as well as the dish Sol was preparing for breakfast. 

Kaelin approached and gently hugged him from behind, which made him shiver before he turned his head slightly to kiss the top of her head. 

"I'm not as good a cook as you, but Ellen taught me the basics, let's say. I helped myself, so I hope that's okay. "

“Of course it's okay.”

After that, they ate breakfast and time flew by. It was already time for Sol to return to Osleanos to avoid arousing further suspicion. He had been away for a whole day and night, which was already much longer than he should have been. Reluctantly, he put his armor back on, kissed Kaelin one last time, and signaled that he had to go. 

“Take care of yourself. Let me know when you arrive.”

 “You're already so worried, even though nothing is official yet.” He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her neck.

“That tickles!” She laughed. “And nothing official? I thought we were pretty official!”

“Then we are,” replied Sol, grabbing her chin to plant yet another kiss on her lips. "But I have to go, and that means leaving my girlfriend all alone, and that breaks my heart. "

“Girlfri-girlfriend.”

“You're the one who wanted something official.”

With those last words, he left to return to the capital of Malden, to rejoin a family he no longer wanted. 

Noé couldn't forget. He couldn't forget the man who had entered Kaelin's house late at night, nor the mass of blond hair he had seen escaping from Kaelin's bedroom window. She had left the shutters open again, and this time, Noé would have preferred never to have known. He would have preferred never to have known that she was still in contact with Sol and was so close to him. 

Noé waited for Sol to leave Kaelin's house and rushed over to her place to knock on the door. He knocked with all his might, hoping she would open it quickly. When she opened the door, she had just put on a top and her hair was a mess. 

“Kaelin.”

“Yes, Noé?”

“Kaelin, you were with Sol.”

Kaelin stood frozen in place, not knowing what to say or do. She raised her head, looking at Noé, who was staring at her with a tense expression, searching the exposed parts of her skin for the slightest mark. Fortunately, Sol had left no trace, and Kaelin was perfectly rested and in good shape. 

Noé was furious, hiding it well, but he was furious, a mixture of hatred, jealousy, and concern. Had he hurt him? Had he threatened him? Had he forced him? There was no way to know unless he asked Kaelin directly for the truth. She probably wouldn't tell him the truth, but it didn't matter. 

“Did he force you?”

“No one forced me to do anything, Noé.”

“He's a murderer, he's our enemy!”

“He's not our enemy! He wants peace! Damn it, Noé, understand me!”

“He tried to kill me, Kaelin, you can't just accept that so easily!”

“Damn it, Noé, I beg you!”

“It's not possible.” Noé began to pull at his hair nervously. “It's not possible. You can't do this to me, Morwen.”

“I love him! I love him, Noé! Too bad if you don't like it, but we're going to change this world, no matter what! You have to believe me.”

That day, Kaelin and Noé had a violent argument following Sol's departure, and Kaelin cried for hours sitting on the bed where she had shared so much with Sol and where she had finally confessed her love for him and accepted him into her life. She would not give up, even if Noé didn't like it.

That day, Kaelin made the decision to leave Port Enanta and return to Solyus. That evening, Kaelin needed to breathe, far from Noé, far from everyone, far from Valrosse. She needed to find Isore, who would understand her. She needed to recharge her batteries and rediscover the traces of happiness she had once experienced between the houses of Solyus and the walls of the Farrow family hotel.

Kaelin packed her bags and left Port Enanta once again to return to Solyus, where she would find Isore, Amelia, Loris, and her memories of a time when she was Maldenian. She was sure it was the right thing to do and that she would be happy, or at least feel that way. 

Kaelin packed her bags and left in the night, not looking back and leaving no note for the man who had been her best friend for years. 

Kaelin had hardly slept, and when she arrived in Solyus, it was very early in the morning and she was exhausted. She arrived shivering cold and hesitant. She didn't dare knock on the Farrow's door for fear of disturbing Isore and her whole family, but before she could do anything, Isore opened the door and instantly threw her arms around her. 

“Kaelin! I missed you.”

“Isore! I have a lot to tell you, but before that, can I borrow the same room as last time? I haven't slept.”

“Yes, of course, follow me.”

Isore settled Kaelin into the room she knew so well, which had seen the birth of such a beautiful friendship between these two young women who had nothing in common. Kaelin was carrying more than last time and put her bag in the corner of the room before taking one last look at Isore. 

“Go get some rest. We'll talk about all your exploits tomorrow.” She paused, then looked at her with a mischievous smile before turning away. “And about Mr. Sol Riven.”

Kaelin coughed and nearly choked, but ended up laughing. Of course, she had told her most of what had happened, but she was surprised by Isore's insight, who had understood much more than Kaelin had let on. She had avoided going into too much detail and had never mentioned the fact that she loved Sol in any way. 

But Isore was a friend, and friends always understood what was going on. 

When Kaelin woke up, it was already late afternoon, and she felt infinitely more rested than she had in recent days. 

No sooner had she woken up than Isore was knocking on her door to see how she was and ask if she wanted to go for a walk. Kaelin, still groggy with sleep, replied that she would be ready in less than ten minutes. 

The brunette got ready, taking only the bare minimum and leaving the rest of her belongings in the small room. On her way downstairs, she saw Amelia and Loris, preceded by Isore, standing in front of what was probably the biggest feast she had ever seen. She ate her fill and finished all the food within her reach.

“Thank you for everything.”

“Kaelin?”

“Why are you crying?”

Kaelin cleared her throat and looked at Isore and her parents, who were watching her sadly as she enjoyed the wonderful meal they had prepared for her.

“I don't know.” She wiped her tears away with her hand. “It's nothing. Everything's fine.”

“Can you leave us alone?” Isore asked her parents.

Amelia and Loris apologized and walked away after placing their hands on Kaelin's shoulder in a gesture of understanding and, above all, compassion. Once her parents had left, Isore threw herself at Kaelin and gave her the biggest hug ever. This only made her cry even harder. 

“My Kaelin. What's going on? Tell me everything!” Isore stepped back a little and looked at her friend's tear-stained face. “Who put you in this state?” "

Kaelin didn't answer right away, then sat down on a chair and began to tell Isore everything: Sol, what was going on between them, Thibalt and their fight, Selhara's death, and finally her argument with Noé.

“Wait, are you telling me that you're dating the Prince of Malden, that you killed his general by mistake, and that you had an argument with Noé because he saw you doing… the thing?” She grunted and scratched her chin nervously. “That's a lot to take in all at once. You love trouble.” 

Kaelin looked at her apologetically and lowered her eyes to stare at her clasped hands resting on her lap. She knew that what she had just said to her friend was even more shocking than anything she had imagined. 

The brunette motioned for her friend to sit down opposite him to calm her agitation a little. She knew it was all a bit crazy, but if they both remained in such a state of panic, they would get nowhere, that was for sure. 

“I know it sounds crazy. But it's the truth, and I need your help, Isore.”

Kaelin was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. Isore immediately stood up, surprised to see someone knocking directly on the hotel room door. Was it Isore's parents? Was it a Maldenian guard who was suspicious of Kaelin's presence? 

It was Isore who opened the door to reveal a man wrapped in several layers of clothing who removed his enormous hood once he was face to face with the two young women. 

A mop of blond hair emerged from the clothing and Sol appeared before Kaelin and Isore. Panting, he had just made the trip from Osleanos to Solyus.

Isore stood frozen, unable to move, and Kaelin stammered in surprise.

“Sol?”

“Thibalt. My father.” Sol panicked, his speech becoming disjointed, but he finally managed to utter a sentence, however stammering it may have been. “My father is dead. Thibalt is going to be named king.”

Chapter Text

Isore and Kaelin didn't know how to react. Isore was the first to break the silence, disturbed by the fact that a prince was standing in front of her, that he was dating her friend, and that he had just announced the birth of a new king, or rather a great tyrant.

“What do you mean? The king is dead?” asked Isore.

“He died in his sleep. My mother found him lifeless in their bed this morning,” Sol replied.

“That's not possible,” Kaelin stammered, burying her face in her hands in panic. “This is catastrophic. Malden will never recover if Thibalt is named king.”

Kaelin stood up and faced Sol and Isore. She had such a determined posture that the two facing her already knew what she was going to say and what she wanted to do. The world was already in too chaotic a state to leave it as it was. The era of revenge, the era of revolution, was knocking at the doors of Malden and Valrosse.

“You know very well what I'm going to say.”

“Kaelin, you must be aware of all the possible repercussions and the fact that we may fail,” Sol announced. 

“We won't fail this time, Sol. I won't fail twice. I will kill Thibalt, restore Malden and Valrosse to their former glory, and put an end to all these conflicts that have been tearing us apart for decades.” She looked at Sol, then at Isore. “We will succeed. I am convinced of it.”

A few hours later, Sol had already left, and fortunately Solyus was much closer for such journeys on horseback than Port Enanta was to Osleanos. Kaelin thought that Sol must be exhausted from making so many trips back and forth in such a short time. She was also glad she had warned him that she was going to Solyus, as it had saved him a wasted trip. 

“And how do you plan to do that?” Isore asked, sitting on Kaelin's windowsill as she so often did. 

“We're going to stage a coup. But first we need to talk to as many people as possible, not only in Valrosse but also in Malden. We need to raise an army.”

“Oh wow.”

“The first step is your parents, Isore! They're merchants, they'll be useful, and I trust them. I'm sure they'll help us.”

“You're taking a big risk.”

“For a good cause!” 

After that, the two friends began to write down a list of influential people who could influence various soldiers or simply various citizens who could help them with their plan. The list grew much faster than they had imagined, and Kaelin's plan finally began to take shape. 

This time, she would be much better prepared, and even though Thibalt was the main target, they would probably have to eliminate the queen as well, something Kaelin knew would be more difficult for Sol despite their very poor relationship. They had to strike hard and take Malden back from the royal family. 

Thibalt was a prince of misfortune and tyranny, Sol would be the prince of revolution, the victorious and majestic prince. Kaelin would make him the glory of Malden. 

As the evening wore on, so did the lengthy preparations made by the two young women, and they were soon satisfied with the names and information they had noted down.

“However, that means we'll have to travel. Some people are in Solyus, Osleanos, others in Valeth, Highven, or even Port Enanta and Foccheyr. I can take care of Malden, but you'll have to go back to Valrosse.”

“I know.” Kaelin smiled broadly and looked at her friend. “I'm more than ready.”

“I think we can stop there for tonight. We'll start tomorrow. Dis you send a letter to Sol to warn him and so he can take care of Osleanos? Thibalt will be crowned tomorrow, and time is running out...”

“I just warned him,” replied the brunette, watching the pigeon fly away with a letter attached to its leg.

“Well! Speaking of Sol, he really is quite handsome! Well done, you little minx!”

Kaelin burst out laughing and looked at her friend, who was sitting on one side with one hand on her cheek, her usual mischievous look plastered on her face. Isore smiled from ear to ear and waited patiently for her friend to tell her more. She knew she would, or she would have to face her infinite disappointment at not knowing all the details!

“I'm not going to tell you all the details.”

“Not all ‘those’ details, anyway, but I'm entitled to a minimum of information, right?”

“He's incredible.” Kaelin leaned back in the chair she was sitting in by the window, her gaze dreamy and her voice full of sweetness. “He's really incredible. He's so sweet and so kind. I feel like I'm constantly by his side.”

“Is he a good kisser?”

Kaelin burst out laughing and was quickly followed by Isore, who clearly couldn't care less about romantic details but wanted much more factual and much less romantic information. 

“He's a great kisser.”

“And the rest?”

“Oh, Isore, that's enough!”

Kaelin threw a pillow at Isore's head, which flew straight over the window and landed at the bottom of the hotel. Realizing that they had just destroyed hotel property, they burst out laughing again. Then a frenzied pillow fight broke out, replacing the endless melancholy with the sweet sound of laughter and happiness. 

The eve of a new era was fast approaching. 

Thibalt was crowned king the next day. 

Once Sol received Kaelin's letter, he began preparations on his side and started to assemble a small army as discreetly as possible. Many were former soldiers of Selhara who resented Thibalt and wanted revenge, while others were simply victims of the prince, now king. 

The queen, meanwhile, was delighted. Completely devoted to her son and couldn't care less about her husband's death, she seemed almost happier that Thibalt was taking up the torch. 

Sol did not attend Thibalt's coronation and, in total darkness, continued to meticulously prepare everything to bring down the tyrant's reign. 

The days passed once again and soon turned into weeks, then months. The preparations came to an end just as Thibalt began to rule Malden with an iron fist, but with such hatred that the people, who already knew the former prince well, were surprised. 

Sol said nothing, accepting and trying to digest everything that was happening, wanting to reveal nothing. He was so docile that even Thibalt had taken a liking to him in some way. The blond responded to all the new king's requests with surprising diligence. 

As for Kaelin, he tried to visit Solyus from time to time but couldn't bring himself to spend more time with her for fear of arousing further suspicion. They continued to correspond by letter and meet in Solyus when Sol had the time and, above all, the opportunity to travel back and forth. 

Sol also spoke to Alven, with whom he had kept in touch and who, surprising as it may seem, was extremely influential among the soldiers. They had to strike hard, so Sol had to take the risk of telling him the truth and saying that he knew Maelith well and that she was alive and ready to stage a revolt against the Maldenian leader. He just omitted to mention that Maelith was actually his girlfriend. 

A wind of revolt was now blowing over Malden and Valrosse, and no royal family could stop them. They were ready, and tomorrow would mark the beginning of a whole new era where tragedy and despair would no longer have a place. 

Chapter Text

“Are you ready?” Sol asked in a loud, confident voice as he faced a huge army made up of citizens from Malden and Valrosse. In response, the soldiers shouted a resounding “yes” in unison. 

It was the first time in the history of Malden and Valrosse that an army composed of both kingdoms had been formed. It was the first time such an uprising had taken place, with the goal of bringing peace and destroying the hatred at its heart. The objective was simple: attack Osleanos, push the royal army to its limits, and bring down Thibalt. Officially, the goal was to make him abdicate, but Kaelin and Sol had much more in mind, knowing that only death could stop him. 

“Are you motivated to fight?” Kaelin shouted at the front of the army alongside Sol.

It was an extraordinary sight. A Valrossian warrior holding hands with a Maldenian prince. This almost poetic image said it all. The two nations could coexist, and peace could be restored on one condition: they had to fight. The die was cast, and everything was finally beginning. Tomorrow would be a new day.

Indeed, it had been agreed to attack the capital the very next day. The plan was simple: Kaelin and Sol's army would attack in the morning, while Isore, at the rear, would block the entrances and exits of the city, preventing potential reinforcements from arriving by sending a string of merchants to the city gates, completely overwhelming the guards. 

It was also necessary to cut off all communication with the outside world, and to do this, Alven made sure to prevent carrier pigeon sellers from letting any birds pass through Osleanos in exchange for a large sum of money. 

Everything was ready.

“Are you afraid?” asked Kaelin, a simple blanket covering her body as she shivered with cold, clinging to Sol. 

“I'm not afraid. Not when I'm by your side.”

“You know I'm already yours? No need to seduce me any further.”

“A true couple never stops seducing each other,” replied Sol, kissing her on the lips. “Anyway, it's too late to be afraid.”

“There's no reason to be afraid,” added Kaelin, gradually falling asleep in the arms of the man she loved and who had changed her life forever. 

Isore was the first to raise the alarm once the main entrances to Osleanos were blocked, indicating that the army could infiltrate the rear entrance of the city, which was poorly guarded. To this end, they had all gone to Osleanos: Sol, Kaelin, Isore, Alven, Amelia, and Loris. 

The alert consisted of three rifle shots fired from the south wing. Once the alert was given, everything really began. The army of the uprising, as Kaelin and Sol liked to call it, began to enter the walls of Osleanos. At first, only a few of the greatest warriors entered the city to destroy the remaining royal guards at the entrance. 

Sol and Kaelin were the first to enter. It was the beginning of everything, a new era, a true revolution unlike anything the two kingdoms had ever known.

Kaelin, with all her fighting talent, knocked out the first two guards with a quick blow to the back of the head. It wasn't as easy for the next ones, whom she had to kill to make sure they didn't get in their way. 

Sol stayed slightly behind, blocking the path of any soldiers who might arrive and protecting the resistance army that had stayed behind. 

Once all the main obstacles had been eliminated, Kaelin signaled to the army to approach and enter. The way was clear, and Sol was glad at that moment to be on Kaelin's side and not facing her. She was so powerful, unstoppable. 

The army entered Osleanos discreetly, small groups sneaking into the capital and destroying every soldier in their path. 

Time was running out, and Sol knew full well that it was only a matter of minutes before a real alert was sounded and they would have to face the royal army, which had once been their allies.

This was indeed the case. From a control tower in the southeast of the city, a guard fired a rocket that exploded in a red fireworks display. Sol knew exactly what this meant: the capital was under attack. 

It didn't take long for the royal army to find them. But the plan was going ahead as planned. The objective now was to split into two groups and take the bravest warriors to the castle and infiltrate it as discreetly as possible. That's why only a team of ten people, including Sol, Kaelin, and Alven, broke away to reach the castle. 

Sol knew the castle like the back of his hand. He knew every nook and cranny, every detour and shortcut. It was also while preparing for their revolution that Kaelin learned that there was in fact a back door leading more easily to Thibalt's quarters that only he used. Sol had discovered it one evening when, foolishly, he had brought one of his conquests back to his room.

Although the resistance army was successfully repelling the royal army, for Kaelin and Sol, it was not so simple. The group struggled to sneak past the guards, who were increasingly numerous given the proximity to the royal family. However, along the way, the couple managed to make allies, former companions of Sol who were surprised to find her leading a real coup against her own family. 

They succeeded despite everything, and especially despite the loss of soldiers, whom they would undoubtedly mourn later when it was all over. It would all be over one day, wouldn't it?

They continued to advance valiantly, the group now reduced to six people, including Kaelin and Sol. But despite the difficulty, they advanced, slowly but surely toward the castle, which was soon coming into view.

Surrounded by the various towers that framed this sublime building, the group began their ascent of the tower closest to Thibalt's quarters. As they climbed, several of them fell, and the sight was horrific, but they had to continue. They absolutely had to honor the memory of these resistance fighters who had fought for them.

Sol thought of Selhara. She would surely have helped them. She would surely have led this new army with an iron fist and with brio. But Selhara was no longer there, and Sol was left to face Thibalt's tyranny on his own, with only the hope of changing the situation and Kaelin's love to comfort him. There was no time to think about anything else, to be sad and regretful: it was time to move forward, and that's what Sol did, filled with energy provided by Kaelin's presence at his side.

He moved forward without looking back, and soon they were finally at the top of the tower and arrived at Osleanos Castle. The castle seemed strange to Sol. This castle, where he had grown up and seen his fears come true, now represented only unhappiness and a desire to question everything. It was time to rise up.

Kaelin, meanwhile, wasn't hesitating about anything, moving confidently toward Thibalt's quarters and the back door Sol had pointed out, thinking only about the success of their plan. She was no longer afraid, and the person she was thinking about most at that moment was none other than Morwen. She wanted him to see him, to make him see her courage and how much she had grown. It had been many months since Morwen had died, but the wounds in Kaelin's heart had never really healed. 

No matter what, she had to keep moving forward. 

The group, now reduced to three people, Kaelin, Sol and Alven had managed to get past most of the human barriers set up by the royal army soldiers, and their allies were still fighting off the remaining soldiers who were still loyal to Thibalt. 

Thibalt must have known by now, and two more gunshots confirmed it. It was a new signal from Isore, telling them that the royal army was reinforcing its position and that they needed to pick up the pace. Which they all did. 

They now stood before the gates of Thibalt's quarters, and it was time, just as the cards had been played. It was time for a new beginning after this uprising and revolution: peace had to be restored. Whatever happened, it had to be done.