The next explosion rattled the walls with a deafening crack, showering the Command Court with dust. The torches flickered violently, half of them extinguishing in the blast. The air thickened with the scent of smoke and burnt metal.
Lysandra steadied herself with a hand against the map table.
Serene clung to her arm, wide-eyed.
Daren drew his sword again, jaw tight.
Captain Rhedon cursed under his breath.
"They're using blast powder. That's Asterfell military-grade."
Lysandra's gaze hardened.
"So Mavren no longer hides behind rumors."
Another boom.
The steel door dented inward, the reinforced hinges bending.
Daren stepped in front of the Empress.
"We hold them here."
Rhedon barked orders to his guards.
"Shields up! Archers, ready!"
But everyone knew the truth:
This would not be a minor skirmish.
This was an attempt to end an empire with one night's bloodshed.
---
The Breach
The final explosion tore the hinges free.
The door flew across the room like a catapult stone, smashing into the far wall. Smoke poured into the chamber. And from the haze—
—figures emerged.
Not ordinary assassins.
These men wore black lamellar armor, faces covered with iron masks etched with Asterfell's sigil. Silent. Methodical. Ruthlessly efficient.
Mavren had sent his elite.
Serene grabbed Lysandra's sleeve. "Those are—"
"Yes," Lysandra whispered.
"The Iron Shades."
Only used for one purpose: political elimination.
Daren stepped forward, blade raised.
"Stay behind me."
Four Iron Shades advanced, moving in perfect formation. Their steps were synchronized, their daggers held backward, their movements fluid like water—but deadly like poison.
The first struck.
Daren blocked.
The second came from the side.
Daren pivoted, steel clashing as he parried both at once.
Rhedon's guards engaged the others, the chamber erupting in a whirlwind of metal, sparks, and screams.
One shader lunged toward the Empress.
Serene shrieked.
Lysandra didn't.
Because Daren was already there.
He shoved her back, raising his sword just in time to intercept a vicious strike aimed at her throat. The impact forced him to his knees.
"Daren!" Lysandra reached for him.
He planted his foot, pushed up with a roar, and flung the attacker backward.
"Your Majesty, stay behind me!" he shouted, breath ragged.
But she did not retreat far.
She refused.
---
The Empress Who Did Not Hide
An Iron Shade slipped through a gap in the guard line, sprinting directly toward Lysandra with impossible speed.
Serene screamed, "Lysa—!"
Lysandra seized a fallen spear from the ground and turned sharply.
The assassin lunged.
She braced—
Daren appeared between them like a thunderbolt, taking the hit across his arm. Blood splattered across the marble.
He didn't flinch.
He threw the Shade into a pillar and finished him with a brutal strike.
"Are you hurt?" she whispered.
"It's nothing," he said—though blood seeped through his gauntlet.
Serene groaned. "He says that even when stabbed."
"Quiet," Daren muttered.
The Shades regrouped, circling like wolves.
"We need reinforcements," Rhedon said through clenched teeth.
"We won't get them in time," Lysandra replied.
Then her eyes shifted, focusing on something across the room.
A lever.
Embedded into the wall.
Engraved with warding sigils.
The lockdown trigger.
"Rhedon!" she snapped. "If we pull the lever, the Cres—"
"It will seal this entire wing," he finished. "Nobody in, nobody out."
Including the remaining guards.
Including the assassins.
Including her.
Rhedon hesitated.
"It's too dangerous."
Lysandra turned to Daren, her heartbeat thundering in her chest.
"If we don't seal the wing, more Shades will pour in. Mavren will get what he wants."
He understood instantly.
"You'll be trapped here," he said.
"We all will. But we will survive."
Serene looked from her sister to the blood on Daren's arm and whispered, "Please be careful…"
Lysandra nodded once.
Then she ran.
---
The Run for the Lever
The Iron Shades saw her move.
Three of them broke formation, sprinting after her.
Rhedon seized one, wrestling him to the ground with a shout.
Guards intercepted another.
But the third slipped through.
Daren's head snapped up.
"LYSANDRA!"
He sprinted.
The Shade reached her first, slashing downward at her spine—
She ducked under the strike.
The dagger sliced through her gown instead of her flesh.
She stumbled, reaching desperately for the lever—
The Shade raised his blade for the final blow—
Daren slammed into him with bone-breaking force.
The two crashed into the wall, the assassin's blade scraping violently across Daren's chestplate. Daren grabbed the Shade by the throat and smashed his helmet into the stone until he stopped moving.
"Daren—" Lysandra gasped.
He turned to her—breathing hard, shaking, bleeding—but alive.
"You're not pulling that lever alone," he said.
She met his eyes.
"You're right."
Together, they gripped the handle.
One look.
One silent acknowledgement.
They pulled.
---
The Seal of the Crest
The floor trembled.
Massive steel walls slid from hidden compartments in the ceiling, slamming down with thunderous force. One by one, every exit sealed shut. Giant locking mechanisms snapped into place.
With each slam, the chamber dimmed further, until the only remaining light came from flickering torches and shards of moonlight.
The palace wing was sealed.
No more assassins could enter.
But the ones inside?
They turned as one.
Silent.
Deadly.
Trapped with their targets.
Rhedon raised his sword.
"Now it's a clean fight."
Daren stepped forward, blood dripping from his arm, chest heaving, eyes blazing with an intensity Lysandra had never seen before.
The Shades moved.
So did he.
---
The Final Confrontation of the Night
The battle became a storm.
Steel ringing against steel.
Cries echoing against stone.
Arrows shattering across marble.
Daren fought with brutal precision—blocking one dagger, twisting another assassin's wrist, kicking a third into Rhedon's blade. He moved like a force of nature, every slash charged with purpose.
Purpose to protect her.
Lysandra refused to stand idle.
She used her spear to hold off attackers that slipped past Daren, each movement clumsy but determined.
Serene threw heavy objects at anyone who got too close, yelling, "These are expensive, you bastards!"
At last—
The final Shade fell.
Silence.
The kind that rings in the bones.
The kind born only after death.
Daren lowered his bloodied sword.
Serene collapsed onto the floor in dramatic exhaustion.
Rhedon braced against a wall, panting.
The remaining guards steadied themselves.
Lysandra stepped toward Daren.
He watched her with quiet intensity.
"You saved me," she said softly.
He shook his head.
"No. We saved each other."
"You bled for me."
"And I would again."
Something tightened in her chest—an unfamiliar ache, sharp and warm.
She raised a trembling hand… and touched his injured arm.
He stiffened—but didn't pull away.
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Daren… thank you."
He held her gaze, chest rising and falling.
"For you," he said, "always."