The Warrior and The Princess

Chapter 33

Kievan raced down the corridor, his long strides swift and urgent, with his guards flanking him in a tight formation. His focus was entirely on the threat awaiting right in front of his palace, so much so that he didn't notice Alina following close behind. Her pace quickened as she trailed them, determined not to be left behind. Her two maids, struggling to keep up, rushed after her, their footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

Alina's heart raced. She had no idea what awaited them outside, but the mention of dragons and an army descending on the palace had shaken her to the core. She couldn't stand idly by—she needed to know what Caleth was planning to come back here.

As Alina stepped out of the palace's main entrance and onto the terrace, the scene below stole her breath. Her eyes widened as they swept over the valley that stretched beyond the palace grounds. From her vantage point atop the hill, the full scale of the impending battle unfolded before her.

Thousands of Eridian soldiers, clad in dark armor, had assembled in rigid formations. Line after line, they stretched across the field, swords gleaming under the dimmed sunlight, and arrows notched, poised for a deadly strike. The tension in the air was thick with the promise of bloodshed.

On the opposite side, Ashyra's soldiers stood in perfect formation, their disciplined ranks stretching out like a wall of blue and gold. Their armor polished to a mirror-like shine, but their weapons remained untouched, sheathed at their sides. The stillness among them was eerie, as if they were waiting for a command that had yet to be spoken aloud.

Above them, dragons soared in wide, menacing circles, their massive wings casting long shadows over the battlefield, blocking out the light in patches as they moved. The sky had darkened in their presence, eclipsing the orange sunset, a swirl of shadow and scale that made the battlefield feel even more threatening. The bloodcurdling wails of the dragons echoed across the sky, but none descended, posing as an aerial threat, hovering, waiting for the same silent command.

The Eridian soldiers stepped aside as Kievan advanced to the front, allowing their king to pass. Alina watched from the palace steps, noticing the shift in his demeanor. The softness she had once glimpsed, the man who had spoken to her with affection, was gone.

In his place stood the true Kievan—the ruthless King of Eridian. His posture was rigid, every muscle tense as he fixed his gaze on the battlefield ahead, a figure of unnerving focus and control. Gone was the man who had once whispered "my love" with tenderness.

This was the Kievan who could order the deaths of thousands without flinching, who saw people as mere pieces on a chessboard, expendable in the pursuit of his greater plan. His cruelty wasn't born from rage or passion—it was colder, far more dangerous. He ruled and strategized with the certainty that he would always find the most ruthless path to victory.

And then she saw it—a massive black dragon flying closer until it was looming above her, its wings spanning wide across the darkening sky. The creature's scales shimmered with a dull, sinister gleam, like polished obsidian in the fading light, a symbol of power and destruction. But it wasn't just the dragon that caught Alina's eye—it was the lone figure atop the beast.

There, standing tall and commanding, was the War General. Her husband. His silhouette was sharp against the sky, his posture straight and strong, projecting a quiet and unquestionable authority. His gaze was locked onto her—steady, unblinking, and intensely focused, as if she was the only person on the entire field. Alina felt her heart twist painfully, infuriated with him and at the same time, longing for him.

Without a word, Alina descended the steps, her movement controlled, calm, and deliberate, despite the hammering of her heartbeat in her chest. Her boots lightly scuffed against the stone, as she followed the same path Kievan had taken earlier. When she reached the bottom, she came to a stop beside the King of Eridian. She stood tall, her posture rigid and strong, as the space between them filled with chilling hostility.