Crown of Ashes

The leaked letter lay between them like a coiled serpent, its wax seal cracked open by Xyrus's dagger. Valencia stared at the familiar script—her words, copied verbatim, though she'd watched the original burn.

"Explain." Xyrus's voice was a blade honed by betrayal.

Valencia met his gaze. "Eldrin's last trick. He wants you to doubt me."

"Should I?"

She snatched the letter, her thumb brushing Lysandra's insignia. "If I'd sent this, you'd already be dead. Lysandra doesn't wage wars—she consumes them."

A knock shattered the tension. A guard bowed, trembling. "The rebels, Your Highness. Their leader is at the gates. She demands an audience… with both of you."

The throne room buzzed with venomous whispers. Feron's lords clustered like vultures, their serpent pins glinting. At the center stood the rebel leader, her crow-feather braids stark against the marble.

"Well, Princess?" The woman's voice echoed. "Will you hide behind Feron's walls, or fight for your blood?"

Valencia stepped forward, the weight of her crown suddenly unbearable. "I fight for survival. Yours and mine."

"Pretty words." The rebel spat. "While our children starve."

Xyrus moved to Valencia's side, his presence a silent challenge. "Your children starve because my lords poisoned their fields. But we can cleanse them—if you stand down."

Murmurs rippled. The rebel leader laughed. "With what? More Feron lies?"

"With this." Valencia lifted a vial of Pherr's crimson vine extract, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat. "It purges blight. But it needs silver to bind it—your silver." She turned to Xyrus. "And your mines."

The room erupted.

The mines reeked of rot. Valencia gagged as they descended, the vial warm in her grip. Xyrus's lantern flickered over walls veined with blackened silver.

"Here." He stopped at a fissure oozing viscous sludge. "The source."

Valencia uncorked the vial. "This will neutralize the poison. But it needs…" She hesitated.

"What?"

"A catalyst. Something alive."

Xyrus's jaw tightened. "How alive?"

Before she could answer, shouts echoed above. Eldrin's followers swarmed the shaft, blades drawn.

"Go!" Xyrus shoved her toward the fissure. "Finish it!"

Valencia poured the extract into the sludge, whispering a Pherri prayer. The ground shuddered. Vines erupted from the vial, snaking through the rot, their roots drinking the poison.

A blade grazed her arm. She turned to see Xyrus locked in combat, blood streaking his temple.

Trust is a luxury.

She lunged, dagger drawn, and buried it in an attacker's spine.

Later, in the scarred silence, they stood over the cleansed mine. The vines had crystallized, their petals shimmering like liquid silver.

"The cure worked," Xyrus said, voice hoarse.

"For now." Valencia pressed a cloth to his temple. "The corruption runs deeper. This is a reprieve, not a victory."

He caught her wrist. "Why did you save me?"

"You're useful alive." She pulled free, but her hand lingered. "And Eldrin's friends still want your throne."

A shout echoed from above. Guards dragged a prisoner forward—a servant from Valencia's chambers, a serpent pin hidden in his sleeve.

"The letter," Valencia breathed. "He copied it."

Xyrus's eyes darkened. "Interrogate him. Find the rest."

At dawn, the rebel leader returned, her defiance softened by the cured field samples Valencia offered. "A start," she conceded. "But Pherr needs more than promises."

"Then take this." Valencia handed her the crystallized vine. "Plant it. Let it grow."

As the rebel left, Xyrus appeared at Valencia's shoulder. "You gave her leverage."

"I gave her hope." She turned, her smile razor-thin. "Something your court lacks."

He studied her, the ice in his gaze thawing. "What now?"

"Now," she said, "we dig deeper."

In the crypts, they found Eldrin's final secret: maps of Lysandra's borders, troop counts, and a single line scrawled in blood.

The viper queen comes.

Valencia's blood chilled. "He wasn't just arming rebels. He was inviting her."

Xyrus crushed the parchment. "Then we'll be ready."

"We?"

His hand brushed hers, fleeting as a shadow. "Unless you have a better plan."

She didn't pull away.