The message from the king came at dawn.
A single scroll. Stamped with royal wax.
Ravien read it once. Then again. His jaw clenched.
"They're sending a royal observer?" he growled. "To Hollowfort?"
No one answered.
He stood in the middle of the hall, eyes dark and sharp. His knights stood still. His steward murmuring his own thoughts.
"He knows," Ravien muttered. "That little bastard Vihan… he sent this."
His fists slammed the table.
"I've killed kings' men before. I'll do it again."
His spymaster, stepped forward.
"My lord… the king didn't accuse you of anything. He only said he wants to watch the situation. That's all."
"That is an accusation," Ravien snapped. "He thinks I'm the one starting a war. He thinks I'm losing control."
And maybe he was.
Windmere was a mess. The baroness had gone mad—or been poisoned. People whispered of Vihan's hand in it, but no proof had been found.
And now, a royal observer? That was more than just an insult.
It was a warning.
"I need this boy crushed," Ravien muttered.
Mairelle cleared her throat. "Vihan hasn't marched. Not openly. And the king's watching now. If you attack first—"
"He knows I can't move now," Ravien growled. "That's the trap. He wants me to wait and rot while he stirs rebellion in my lands."
He looked at the map. His duchy, once solid, now felt thin as ice.
"We respond," Ravien said at last. "But not with soldiers."
He turned slowly.
"We use whispers. Fire. Bribes. Let's tear out Vihan's roots before his tree grows too tall."
He looked at Mairelle.
"Send gold to the guilds in Greystone. Have them start a riot over grain. Then—find me someone close to him. A guard. A servant. I want someone on the inside."
"Yes, my lord."
Ravien stared at the letter from the king.
He whispered to himself: "Let them watch. Let them all watch. When I burn this boy's name from the earth, the king will look away, just like he always does."
---
Wyvrland Keep—
I stared down at the report in silence.
The parchment trembled slightly in my grip. Not from fear. Rage.
Three supply wagons had been burned along the Oakshade road. Two messengers vanished between Greystone and Branholdt. And worst of all—one of Armin's junior stewards had been found dead in a cellar, throat slit, and a black crow's feather shoved in his mouth.
A warning. A signature.
Ravien had stopped sitting still.
Kaelen slammed her fist on the council table. "Coward's tactics. Hiding in the dark instead of facing us in the open."
"He doesn't need to,we haven't been fighting in open as well. " I said bitterly. "Not when the shadows work for him now."
Lyra stepped from her corner, eyes cold. "This isn't just sabotage. It's coordination. He's using agents—trained ones. Clean strikes. Quick disappearances. He's feeding discontent again, too. New rumors are spreading about me… cruel ones."
"What kind?" I asked.
She hesitated, then looked at me. "That you poisoned your own steward for failure. That you worship dark gods. That you plan to raise the taxes tenfold."
I snorted. "Creative."
"They're working," she said. "Farms are holding back shipments. Some merchants in Branholdt left overnight."
Arden looked up from the map. "You think it's Ravien's spymaster?"
Lyra nodded. "Mairelle. Quiet for months. But she's resurfaced. Always leaves a trail when she wants you to know she was there."
I leaned back, rubbing my jaw. "She wants to rattle me."
"She wants to make your people doubt," Lyra replied. "This is Ravien testing our walls… and our patience."
I stood, voice hard. "Then let's give him something else to think about."
"Windmere," I said. "We strike there."
Hollowfort, Strategy Hall
Mairelle stood beside the map table, calm as ever, black curls falling over one shoulder. Her voice was soft but sure.
"Vihan prepares to move against Windmere."
Ravien didn't look surprised.
"They're fast learners," he said quietly. "He understood the message."
Tharon stepped forward. "If he attacks Windmere, he'll stretch his lines too far. That could be our opening."
"No," Ravien replied. "Not yet."
"The King is watching now. Interfering. If I move first, I become the villain."
Mairelle nodded. "We let him strike. Make him seem like the aggressor. Then… we answer."
Ravien's lips curved into a cold smile.
"And this time," he said, "we answer with fire."
---
War Council, Wyvrland
Windmere was a stubborn thorn. A small county—but a key one. Its hills and forests guarded one of the last safe paths toward Hollowfort, Ravien's stronghold.
I spread the new map out before my council.
"Our scouts say Windmere's garrison is light," Arden said, pointing at the western ridge. "About a hundred men holding the fort itself. Two dozen patrol the trade roads."
"Barely enough to man the walls," Kaelen muttered. "Easy pickings."
"Too easy," I said. "Ravien wants us to come."
Lyra gave a small nod. "He's baiting you. Using Mairelle's tricks to draw your eyes west."
I tapped the parchment. "And we'll let him think it's working."
Arden raised an eyebrow. "A feint?"
"No," I said. "A real strike—but controlled. Fast and surgical. Some Pike Serpants will come with me and I want the Ashen Veil moving under cover. No banners. No horns. Just steel and silence. We take Windmere's fort before dawn. No survivors."
Kaelen grinned. "That I can do."
I looked to Armin next. "Quietly move supplies to Greystone. Enough for a short siege if needed."
He nodded. "I'll use local carts. Civilian traffic. No flags."
Then to Lyra: "Send word to our contacts in Windmere's villages. If they're loyal, they'll help. If they're not… we'll know who to hang later."
She bowed her head. "Already in motion."
I stared at the map a long while. "If we take Windmere, Ravien will come. One way or another. And when he does…"
"We'll be ready," Arden said.
I wasn't so sure. The man who has ruled for over decades can't be so predictable.
Hollowfort, Secret Chamber
Maps covered the table. But not just any maps—copies Mairelle had taken from Greystone two weeks ago.
She traced the route Vihan's scouts would likely take.
"They'll strike from the trees," she said. "Avoid the main road. They'll move at night. Light infantry—probably his archers and scouts."
Ravien didn't blink. "Let them."
Tharon looked confused. "You want them to take Windmere?"
"For a day," Ravien said.
He leaned over the table and tapped a spot just behind the fort. "Then our riders hit them. Three hundred men, hidden in the hills. While they celebrate, we burn the gate behind them."
Mairelle smiled faintly. "Trap them inside the county. Cut their retreat. Spread word the young Lord butchered civilians. The King will hear it before Vihan can even write a letter."
Ravien turned to her. "And you?"
She dipped her head. "Already planted the rumors in Branholdt. A few key merchants will flee to Hollowfort tomorrow, bringing 'witness stories' with them."
Tharon smiled wickedly. "Vihan won't know what hit him."
Ravien smiled thinly. "Oh, he will. He just won't know who helped it happen."