Chapter 95: Shadows in the West

The winter winds howled through the western hills as Damien's party approached Blackmere, his dukedom. The frost on the air felt like a reminder of the harsh state of the kingdom—unforgiving, unrelenting. After dealing with Lord Grent's defiance, Damien had decided to return to Blackmere, both to stabilize his lands and to address the growing unrest among his vassals.

He sat atop his horse at the head of the group, his steel-gray eyes fixed on the distant outline of Blackmere's fortress. Once, it had been a symbol of fear and strength, its banners a reminder of Damien's iron rule. Now, it felt vulnerable, like a relic of a broken past.

"Home sweet home," Amara said, riding up beside him. Her sharp blue eyes flicked toward him with faint amusement. "Bet it feels strange, coming back after all this time."

"It does," Damien admitted, his voice low. "Blackmere used to be my stronghold, my shield against the world. Now, it feels like a liability."