Chapter 14 Unexpected Meeting

The heavy air in the forum chambers carried the weight of impending war.

Silva sat with Marcus and the other officers, their faces etched with grim determination as they discussed the latest developments.

The cloaked man had been spotted again, and it was becoming clear that he was no ordinary dissident.

He had begun rallying commoners and lower-class nobility to his cause, and the Empire couldn't afford to ignore the growing threat any longer.

"We can't keep waiting, " Silva said, his voice firm as he leaned over the table, pointing at the map sprawled out in front of them. "If we delay any further, he'll have raised an army right under our noses. We need to strike soon, but we need our forces ready. "

Marcus, sitting next to him with his usual calm demeanor, nodded in agreement. "Our soldiers are prepared, but we'll need more than just brute strength. The enemy is gathering support in secret. They're planning something big, and we need to be one step ahead. "

The officers around the table murmured in agreement, their eyes darting toward Silva for direction.

He had quickly earned a reputation as a capable leader, one who could be relied upon in times of crisis.

But this was a crisis unlike any they had faced before.

They were up against an enemy they didn't fully understand—an enemy who thrived in the shadows.

"We'll need new strategies, " Silva continued, his voice lowering as he began to sketch out a plan of approach. "We'll split our forces. Half will remain stationed at the border to prevent any outside reinforcements, while the other half will engage directly with the cloaked man's followers. We'll isolate him, cut him off from his support, and strike when he's weakest. "

As Silva laid out the details, Marcus stood and stretched, his towering frame drawing a few glances from the other men. "I'll handle the northern sector. My men are ready to move at a moment's notice. "

Silva nodded, trusting Marcus's judgment implicitly. "Good. We'll need to ensure our troops are well-armed and equipped. The enemy won't fight conventionally, and we need to be prepared for anything. "

One of the four Kingsguard, General Blaine, a stern-faced man with steely eyes, stood from his seat. "I'll begin preparations for the soldiers, " he said, excusing himself along with the other three. "We'll make sure everything is ready. "

The rest of the group followed suit, each officer excusing themselves to make the necessary arrangements.

The meeting was over, and the wheels of war had been set in motion.

As they made their way out of the forum chambers and into the palace grounds, Silva's mind raced with the implications of the looming battle.

Every decision they made from this point forward would determine the Empire's future, and he knew there was no room for mistakes.

The sound of clanging metal and the hum of machinery pulled Silva from his thoughts as they neared the machine workshop.

Workers were crowded around a large contraption, shouting orders and tinkering with various parts.

But what caught Silva's attention wasn't the machine itself—it was the pair of boots sticking out from underneath it.

His instincts kicked in, and Silva rushed forward, fearing the worst.

Was someone injured?

Had something gone wrong?

But as he neared the machine, he stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat.

Sliding out from underneath the machine was a young woman, her face smeared with soot and oil, her dirty overalls a testament to the hard work she had been doing.

Her dark hair, wild and messy, fell around her face, and she muttered under her breath as she dusted herself off.

Despite the grime and the chaos around her, there was an unmistakable grace in the way she moved—an effortless beauty that took Silva completely by surprise.

He felt his heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around him seemed to fade into the background.

Who was this woman?

Why had he never seen her before?

There was something about her, something that stirred something deep inside him.

Before he could fully process what he was feeling, Marcus sauntered up to the woman with a grin and, without warning, wrapped her in a bear hug.

"Marina! " Marcus's voice boomed, his arms enveloping her in a tight embrace. "It's been too long!

You've been hiding away in this workshop for ages! "

Marina, her face still expressionless despite Marcus's enthusiasm, tolerated the hug with a deadpan look. "I told you not to hug me when I'm covered in grease, Marcus, " she muttered, though there was no real annoyance in her tone.

Silva blinked, watching the scene unfold in front of him.

So they knew each other?

That explained the familiarity, but it didn't explain the strange, almost magnetic pull he felt toward her.

Finally, Marina freed herself from Marcus's embrace and straightened, dusting off her overalls with a sigh.

She turned and locked eyes with Silva for the first time.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The air between them seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension.

Marina's heart raced in her chest, her mind whirling with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite name.

She had found him—the man from her dreams, the one she had been searching for, though she hadn't known it until this very moment.

His eyes...

They were a beautiful shade of grey, like the skies right before a storm. She remembers those eyes. She didn't know where but she felt like she has been chasing those eyes ever since she started dreaming.

But she quickly suppressed the thought, forcing herself to remain calm.

She didn't want to show any emotion, not in front of Marcus, not in front of anyone.

Not when she was standing in her dirty work clothes, covered in grime and grease.

Silva, on the other hand, struggled to keep his composure.

He had seen beautiful women before—noble ladies, graceful and elegant—but Marina was different.

There was a rawness to her, a beauty that shone through even the dirt and oil that smeared her face.

She was unlike anyone he had ever met.

"Marina, " Marcus said, oblivious to the tension in the air, "this is Silva Fischburn, my commander and the one leading the charge against the cloaked man. Silva, this is Marina Eldheim, the best inventor in the Empire. "

Silva cleared his throat, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled over him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Marina, " he said, offering a polite nod. "I've heard Marcus mention having an inventor friend. "

Marina raised an eyebrow, her deadpan expression not changing. "Has he now? " she asked, her tone dry. "I hope it wasn't all bad. "

Marcus laughed, clapping Silva on the back. "Don't let her fool you. She's a genius. She just doesn't like to admit it. "

Silva chuckled, feeling some of the tension ease. "I can see that, " he said, his gaze lingering on Marina for a moment longer before he looked away.

As they stood there, Marcus, ever the friendly giant, regaled Silva with the story of how he and Marina had become friends.

"It was years ago, " Marcus said with a grin. "I was just a teenager, and I thought I could take on anyone. I saw Marina working on one of her machines and thought she looked interesting. So, naturally, I challenged her to a fight. "

Marina rolled her eyes. "You didn't challenge me to a fight. You harassed me until I stunned you. "

Marcus laughed heartily, clearly not bothered by the correction. "She's right. I thought I could overpower her, but she had this little device she'd made—a zapper, she called it. Zapped me right on the spot. It was the shortest fight in history. "

Silva raised an eyebrow. "And you didn't hold a grudge? "

"Are you kidding? " Marcus grinned. "I was impressed. She made that thing herself. Could've electrocuted me if she wanted, but she had it set on stun. I knew right then that she was someone worth knowing. "

Silva couldn't help but smile at the story.

It was so very Marcus—always challenging others, always pushing boundaries, and always finding respect in the most unexpected places.

"Sounds like she's not someone to be underestimated, " Silva said, his gaze once again drifting toward Marina.

"I try not to be, " Marina replied, her tone still dry, but there was a hint of something in her eyes—a spark that told Silva there was much more to her than met the eye.

As they continued to talk, Silva found himself increasingly intrigued by Marina.

There was a quiet strength to her, a determination that reminded him of the soldiers he commanded.

But there was also something softer, something more vulnerable, though she hid it well.

Eventually, the conversation turned back to the mission at hand.

"We've been tasked with gathering weapons and new transport for the soldiers, " Silva explained. "We've heard there's an inventor working with the palace to craft new equipment for us. "

Marcus grinned, glancing at Marina. "Oh, that would be Marina. "

Silva blinked. "Wait... she's the inventor? "

Marina crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. "Is that a problem? "

Silva quickly shook his head. "No, not at all. I just... didn't expect someone so young. "

Marina's lips twitched slightly, the closest thing to a smile Silva had seen from her. "I get that a lot. "

Marcus laughed again, clapping Silva on the back. "You'll get used to it. Marina's full of surprises. "

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the workshop, Silva knew one thing for certain: this mission was going to be more complicated—and more interesting—than he had ever imagined.

And Marina Eldheim, the queen of cogs, was at the center of it all.