Through Flame and Time

The night over Snowrest City lingered, the morning drums yet to sound, but sentries were already on high alert. Aveline stood on the city wall in armor, flanked by General Vidal with a longbow and Lucian. Her gaze cut sharp through the misty shadows of southeast mountains—the likely hiding place for enemy forces.

"Scouts report," Lucian whispered, "the 'Grey Ravens' who infiltrated two days ago weren't acting alone. The Regent has dispatched nearly a thousand elite soldiers, advancing from Cold Vulture Valley."

"Planning a night attack?" Aveline clenched the battle order in her hand.

"Yes—and no." General Vidal's eyes turned cold. "They're infiltrating farms as refugees, spreading out under cover of night. Without Kalia, we might not have noticed until the city fell."

Kalia, cloaked in gray, stood by the watchtower, expression grave. She handed a hand-drawn map marking infiltration routes and the positions of the Regent's poison masters.

"They excel at storming the core after inciting chaos. If Your Highness can counter before the chaos breaks, there may be a chance."

Aveline nodded, her gaze like a blade: "Tonight, let them in."

All were startled.

"Leave a section of the West Gate unguarded. Once they enter, seal them in and capture their core commanders alive. I want them to confess the Regent's bloody orders themselves."

Vidal hesitated, then replied: "As you command."

At midnight, snow and wind intensified as the West Gate "loosened" on cue. Within half an hour, over forty black-cloaked figures poured in, only to be surrounded moments later. Aveline led the assault personally, pressing the three leaders into the dungeon.

In the ice-cold dungeon, before torture began, the lead man sneered: "Do you think capturing me reverses royal decree?"

Aveline stepped forward, tossing a copied page from The Book of Ashes at his feet.

"I don't reverse royal decree. I reveal the true one."

The man's face paled.

"Tell me—where is he? What's your next move?"

"You won't survive to see it." The man laughed, but collapsed unconscious after Kalia administered a needle.

"We have time," Kalia said flatly.

After the interrogation, Aveline returned to her chamber, cloak dusted in snow, eyelashes frosted.

Lucian had prepared hot soup and fur blankets, gently touching her face: "Tonight, you were a true commander."

She removed her armor, leaning into his embrace—weary yet burning.

"I never wanted to be queen," she whispered, "but I must become one."

He kissed her—no tenderness, just scorching reciprocation. Lifting her to the bed, he unfastened her tight-fitting robe, lips and tongue trailing inch by inch over her shoulders and spine.

She rolled on top of him, dominating the kiss, fingers sliding under his clothes. Another fire ignited after the snowy night.

As he entered her, she bit her lip, waist arching like a bow until pleasure crested, and she finally breathed his name:

"Lucian—"

His eyes opened: "I'm here."

"If I fall tomorrow, will you betray me?"

"If you fall, I'll raze the capital to bury you."

They tangled into the night, their shared breath the only tangible vow.

Dawn peeked through the window, the first light stretching Aveline's shadow long over snow remaining snow beneath the battle flag.