---
Three days had passed since Laraine accepted the king's so-called offer.
Three days of silence from the palace. No guards sent to escort her, no follow-up letters—only a sealed document delivered by courier with a royal crest and one simple command:
"Go alone. Cleanly. Swiftly. No survivors."
Inside the envelope had been a map, marked in red with the location of a southern outpost: a rebel stronghold hidden within the dense Aelorian Forest. Remote. Dangerous. The perfect place for someone to "disappear."
If she were any other bastard child, they'd expect her to vanish without a trace.
But Laraine Ashton was far from ordinary.
---
"Are you sure about this?" Millis asked, standing beside a saddled horse, her arms folded and eyes full of worry.
Laraine adjusted the strap across her shoulder, securing the blade that Millis had insisted she take.
"I'm not walking into the woods to die, Mill. I'm walking in to survive. To prove I can't be erased."
Millis stepped closer, gripping Laraine's cloak. "And if it's a trap? If they don't want you to come back?"
Laraine looked her in the eye. "Then I'll tear my way out."
Millis stared for a moment, then nodded, swallowing hard.
She reached into her apron and pulled out a silver pendant with a lavender stone embedded in the center. "It's a charm. Protection... or at least, a reminder."
Laraine took it, fingers brushing against Millis's for a moment too long. "Thank you."
The faint scent of lavender clung to the chain. Laraine slipped it around her neck.
"Don't wait up," she said with a faint smile, climbing onto her horse.
Millis gave her a shaky smile in return. "You better come back."
---
The journey south was not easy. Dense forests gave way to shadowed valleys, and the air turned thick with tension the closer Laraine came to the rebel territory. The trees whispered with secrets—some old, some freshly stained with blood.
She stopped once, in a small village on the edge of the forest. Word of the rebellion had clearly reached the people. Markets were half-empty, and soldiers in mismatched armor patrolled the streets with drawn swords.
But Laraine passed through unnoticed, a shadow cloaked in dusk.
By the time she reached the edge of the Aelorian Forest, night had fallen.
There were no guards. No walls. Just woods, silent and deep.
And yet... she was being watched.
She dismounted slowly, hand hovering near the hilt of her dagger.
"I don't mean harm," she called out softly. "Unless you do."
There was a long silence.
Then—snap.
A twig broke behind her. She turned, fast—too fast to be anything but trained.
A figure stepped from the trees, dressed in dark leathers and a red scarf. He had a scar across his cheek and the unmistakable posture of someone used to killing.
"You're the king's daughter," he said flatly.
Laraine didn't flinch. "And you're not very welcoming."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here?"
"To speak with your leader," she said. "Unless you'd prefer we skip straight to the bloodshed?"
He studied her carefully. "You walk into a rebel camp alone and unarmed—"
"Correction," she said, pulling back her cloak just enough to reveal her sword. "Not unarmed. Just unimpressed."
That got a faint smirk out of him.
"You've got fire," he said. "Fine. Follow me. Try anything... and you'll regret it."
---
The rebel camp was buried deep in the forest, shielded by nature and magic alike. Tents were scattered around a firelit clearing, and every pair of eyes that landed on Laraine carried suspicion—or hatred.
She met them all without blinking.
The man led her into a larger tent in the center of the camp.
Inside was a woman with dark brown skin, shoulder-length silver hair, and piercing green eyes. She sat at a crude table scattered with maps and war plans.
When she looked up, Laraine felt the weight of her gaze instantly.
"So," the woman said, voice rich with command. "The cursed princess finally crawls out of her exile."
Laraine's lips twitched. "I prefer 'exiled royalty.' It has a better ring to it."
The woman didn't smile. "You came from the palace. That makes you either a fool, a spy, or a fool pretending not to be a spy."
Laraine stepped forward. "I came with a proposal."
The rebel leader arched an eyebrow. "Go on."
"I was sent to kill you. Erase the rebellion in exchange for a title and false recognition."
There was a moment of stunned silence in the tent.
The woman rose slowly to her feet, every motion precise.
"And?"
"I'm not interested in a throne handed to me by a man who threw me away like garbage," Laraine said coolly. "But I am interested in something else."
The rebel leader narrowed her eyes. "And what is that?"
Laraine smiled, slow and wicked.
"Burning the empire to the ground"