Marching as One

The war council gathered in the grand strategy hall, tension thick in the air. Maps lay spread across the polished table, marked with troop movements and enemy positions.

Kaelith stood at the head, his presence commanding. At his side, Seraphine sat poised, her expression unreadable—but her sharp gaze missed nothing.

"This war will not be fought from the shadows," Kaelith declared, his voice unwavering. "We ride at dawn. I will lead the vanguard."

Murmurs broke out among the nobles. General Rhyden, an older man loyal to Kaelith, frowned. "Your Highness, the prince should not risk himself on the front lines. Your role is to command, not to fight."

Kaelith's gaze was cold. "I do not command from behind walls, General. My men will fight harder knowing I bleed beside them."

Seraphine smirked, leaning forward. "And I will ride with him."

The room fell silent.

Aldric, ever the careful observer, studied her. "Your Majesty, this is highly unorthodox—"

"And yet, here I am," she cut in smoothly. "My place is beside my king. This war threatens my throne as much as his."

Kaelith's lips twitched slightly in amusement, but he did not object.

"Then it is settled," he said. "Prepare the men. We ride as one."

Seraphine caught the flicker of approval in his gaze before he turned back to the council.

For the first time, she realized—this was where they were strongest