The moon stood high in the night sky, casting a spectral glow over the sleeping capital. But the royal palace was very much awake. In its silent corridors, shadows danced under the flickering torchlight, silent witnesses to the conspiracies and ambitions woven within its ivory walls.

  Kael stood in a vast chamber with black marble walls, an imposing library framing a massive mahogany desk. On the desk, a map of the kingdom was spread out, marked with several tokens representing the various forces in play.

  Opposite him, the princess, draped in a crimson gown embroidered with gold, held a cup of wine between her fingers. Her piercing gaze, illuminated by the candlelight, studied Kael with unsettling intensity.

  — "You still haven’t given me your answer."

  Her voice, though soft, carried an impatience barely concealed.

  Kael didn’t respond immediately. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, weighing the implications of this alliance.

  — "You want cooperation. Fine. But I need to know exactly who we’ll be fighting against."

  A faint smile touched the princess’s lips. She set her cup on the desk and rose with calculated grace.

  — "There are several factions that contest my rule."

  She unrolled a parchment before Kael. Several crests were drawn upon it, each representing a noble family or a general who had refused to kneel.

  Kael studied them carefully, his gaze lingering on one in particular.

  — "The Osberns…" he murmured, placing a finger on the silver falcon emblem.

  — "An old noble family that believes the throne rightfully belongs to them. Their army is modest, but their influence within the nobility is considerable."

  Kael nodded, committing the information to memory. Then he pointed to another crest, marked with a black wolf.

  — "And this one?"

  The princess’s gaze hardened ever so slightly.

  — "General Aldric. A veteran of the old dynasty. He has gathered an army of mercenaries and exiled soldiers. He wants my head, and he’s willing to burn the capital to get it."

  Kael remained silent for a moment, assessing the situation.

  — "If you’ve already identified your enemies, why haven’t you attacked them yet?"

  The princess smirked, a hint of irony in her expression.

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  — "Because I’m not strong enough. Not yet."

  She placed a hand on the desk and leaned slightly toward him.

  — "That’s why I need you."

  Kael could feel the tension in the air. This wasn’t just a military alliance. It was a game of power, a clash of ambitions where both tested the other’s limits.

  He smirked.

  — "Fine. I’m in. But on one condition."

  She raised an intrigued eyebrow.

  — "And that is?"

  Kael stood, placing his hands on the table, his eyes locking onto hers.

  — "I want my independence. My army answers only to me. We are allies, but never subordinates."

  A long silence stretched between them.

  Then, slowly, a smile returned to the princess’s lips.

  — "That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear."

  She extended her hand.

  Kael grasped it firmly.

  The pact was sealed.

  A few hours later, Kael joined Darius and Lysara in the eastern wing of the palace.

  Darius, seated on a crate, sharpened his blade with a mechanical motion, his expression unreadable. Lysara, leaning against a pillar, watched the corridors warily.

  — "Well?" Darius asked without lifting his eyes from his weapon.

  Kael crossed his arms.

  — "We have an agreement. We stay, and we prepare for war."

  Lysara frowned.

  — "And do you trust her?"

  Kael shook his head.

  — "No. But she needs us as much as we need her."

  Darius smirked cynically.

  — "So, we’re stepping into the lion’s den?"

  Kael let out a faint grin.

  — "Exactly."

  At that moment, a dull sound echoed through the corridors.

  Lysara immediately straightened, drawing a dagger.

  — "Someone’s coming."

  Kael placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for anything.

  A figure emerged from the shadows—a palace messenger, breathless, his face pale.

  — "General Aldric…" he panted. "He’s approaching the city. With his army."

  Kael exchanged a glance with Darius and Lysara.

  The first battle of this alliance was about to begin sooner than expected.

  The war chamber buzzed with feverish energy. Around the massive wooden table, the princess’s officers debated heatedly over the strategy to adopt.

  Kael observed the scene in silence, arms crossed. Many of these nobles were mere bureaucrats with no battlefield experience. They spoke of honor and glory but understood nothing of war’s brutality.

  The princess raised a hand, commanding silence.

  — "We must act immediately. If Aldric reaches the city, we will be under siege."

  One of the generals, an old man with a graying beard, leaned forward.

  — "We must lock the gates and hold our ground. Our walls are strong."

  Kael sighed and finally spoke.

  — "Waiting behind walls will only weaken us. We need to strike first."

  Murmurs spread through the room, some nobles visibly displeased.

  Kael stepped forward and drove a dagger into the map.

  — "Here."

  All eyes turned to him.

  — "Aldric must cross the Solm Plains before reaching the capital. If he marches with a large army, he will be slow and vulnerable."

  The princess nodded.

  — "You’re suggesting an ambush?"

  Kael smiled.

  — "Exactly."

  The princess’s expression grew harder.

  — "Then prepare your men. We strike tonight."

  Kael left the chamber, a thrill of excitement running through his veins.

  The war was only just beginning.