Before the queen's messenger arrived, Valdegar Lokris' messengers were already racing down the narrow mountain path, leaving clouds of dust in their wake. They were bearers of a message that would change the world.
They carried the news of death.
Their black cloaks fluttered in the wind, and the silver seals on their chests gleamed in the moonlight. They knew their mission. They knew they had to reach Queen Lianisa first.
For if she heard the truth from anyone but them, the situation would become dire.
Ahead, behind the impenetrable walls of the fortress, the royal road to the capital of Virenia began.
Signal fires blazed atop the towers.
— "Riders on the horizon!" — shouted one of the sentries.
Bows tightened.
Spearmen lined up before the gates.
And before the whole army stepped out the commander of the fortress — Sir Gregory Falk.
His presence was like a mountain looming over everything, cold and unyielding.
Heavy metal gauntlets gripped the hilt of his sword. His blue eyes pierced the approaching riders.
The messengers didn't stop immediately.
They couldn't stop.
They had a mission, an order.
But before them stood a man who didn't care about their orders.
The chief messenger, a man in a dark cloak, pulled a scroll from a silver case and shouted, — "We come with a message from King Valdegar Lokris to Her Majesty Queen Lianisa Virenia!"
Gregory didn't move.
— "A change of power."
He knew.
It didn't mean anything good.
His fingers tightened even more.
— "Who's dead?"
The messenger held the pause, as if that would change anything.
— "King Kairion… has died."
Gregory kept his calm.
But his eyes grew colder than the very sky that night.
Valdegar killed him.
That was obvious.
But now they wanted the queen to hear their version of events first.
— "Let us pass," — the messenger said firmly.
And that was when the fortress commander made his choice.
He slowly raised his hand.
Bows tightened.
Spearmen lowered their weapons.
— "Your papers."
The chief messenger's face remained unchanged, but his fingers tightened on the message even more.
— "I have orders to deliver them only to the queen."
Gregory didn't shift his stance.
But his words were a sentence.
— "If your king seeks negotiations, let him send diplomats, not midnight riders."
The messengers fell silent.
It was a dead end.
They couldn't turn back.
Valdegar was waiting for their report.
— "And what if we refuse?" — the messenger clenched his jaw.
Gregory slowly drew his sword.
— "And what if I order the archers to fire?"
Those words decided everything.
One wrong choice, and blood would spill.
The messenger knew: either he would fail his king's task and face execution, or he would die here.
He made his choice.
With a sudden move, the horse surged forward!
— "Fire!" — the command rang out.
The first arrow pierced the second rider's neck.
The second buried itself in the chest of the third.
The third fell to the ground as the chief messenger desperately fought to push forward.
He was almost at the gates.
Just a few more steps.
And then — Gregory's sword.
His movement was flawless.
A sharp strike.
The chief messenger fell to the ground, blood spreading into a dark puddle on the cobblestones.
His hand still clutched the scroll.
Gregory bent down, carefully taking the letter.
Valdegar's message would never reach the queen.
She would learn the truth — not his version.
And when she finds out…
Valdegar will realize he made a fatal mistake.
The fortress commander calmly stepped back, signaling the soldiers to remove the bodies.
He had already done his part.
Now — he could only hope for the queen.
Half a day later, the messenger returned.
The royal palace of Virenia, the main hall of the throne wing.
The world had changed. In an instant, everything had become different. The enormous columns that supported the palace roof seemed colder. The stained-glass windows, through which soft sunlight once poured, now seemed dull, as if even the day had lost its colors. Deep in the heart of this palace, in the middle of the hall, stood a magnificent woman. The one whose world had just been turned upside down.
Queen Lianisa Virenia stood by the throne, gripping the armrest so tightly that her nails turned white.
Before her, on his knees, was Ricard Ortelian — her most loyal messenger, her eyes and ears in King Kairion's kingdom. His dark blue cloak was dusted, his face was haggard, and in his eyes still burned the fire of worry from the hasty journey.
— "Your Majesty…" — his voice was filled with restrained pain, but there was still strength in it. — "King Kairion is dead."
— "Repeat it."
Her voice was icy, sharp, like the strike of a dagger.
Ricard pressed his lips tighter. He didn't want to repeat it. But he had no choice.
— "King Kairion is dead."
Lianisa didn't move.
Her hands remained on the throne, her face remained impassive.
But in her eyes...
A fire ignited.
— "How?"
There was no sorrow in her voice. Only icy calm. Only a cold, sharp command to give her an answer.
Ricard slowly sighed.
— "He fell... in front of everyone. His body... rejected the healing. His strength faded, as if... as if something was eating him from the inside."
"Magic didn't work?"
"Curse."
"Poison."
Her fingers clenched the armrest of the throne even tighter.
— "Valdegar."
Her lips spoke that name with such hatred that even the soldiers standing along the walls instinctively straightened, sensing the danger.
— "Yes," — Ricard confirmed. — "He took the king's magical crystal."
The crystal.
Her heart clenched in fury.
So he planned it all.
So this wasn't just death.
This was the theft of a legacy.
This was betrayal.
Her whole body burned with rage.
But she did not let her emotions loose.
She was the queen.
She was Virenia.
She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and her face remained as cold as stone.
— "And how did the court react?"
— "They all... knelt before him."
Ricard said it with almost disgust.
Lianisa closed her eyes.
She imagined how it happened.
How Valdegar stood there, with false sorrow on his face.
How he held the magical crystal of her friend in his hands.
How the courtiers themselves proclaimed him the new king.
Her heart screamed with fury.
"Kairion was a good king, his brother had been working on alliances in the kingdom for a long time, but who knew it would come to this?"
But her lips curled into a cold, almost cruel sneer.
— "So he took the throne without a fight."
Ricard nodded.
— "Yes. Now you'll have to react."
Her eyes flashed.
Who else knows?
— "Messengers have been sent throughout the kingdoms. But..."
He fell silent.
Lianisa narrowed her eyes.
— "Speak."
Ricard sighed.
— "No one came to the Third Kingdom."
Silence.
This meant...
That Valdegar had something in mind.
— "He wants to deal with me first." — Her voice sounded calm, but inside, a storm raged.
Ricard nodded.
Lianisa took a deep breath.
Her posture remained regal, her movements fluid.
She slowly released the armrest of the throne and took a few steps forward.
Her son, Albricht, stood by the entrance to the hall, his fists clenched in tension.
He understood.
His mother was preparing for war.
Lianisa Virenia lifted her head.
Her voice was steady.
"Prepare the court. We are going to the funeral."
She paused.
And then added:
— "And tell our spies that we now have a poisonous neighbor, and they should activate. I want to know everything about Valdegar Lokris. His allies. His weaknesses. And what skeletons he has in his closet..."
— "I will crush him to the last bone."
The great border fortress, which separated Virenia from Valdegar's lands.
The night pressed down on the earth like a heavy black curtain. A mist hung over the border fortress, making it resemble a ghost guarding the kingdom's boundaries. The torches' lights barely cut through the damp haze, and the cold wind ripped the flags bearing Virenia's emblem.