The First Strike
The air inside the Varyn estate felt heavier than the southern villa tainted by betrayal.
Lyra stood in the center of the bedroom. Her expression was cold. She inspected her belongings without emotion.
Two years of marriage. Her dowry and the wealth from the Elowen family brought life into the stagnant Varyn estate. Now, she would take every bit of it back.
Thick account books showed every coin she had contributed. Deeds listed the lands from her mother's private holdings, lands untouched by royal claims. The jewelry box held only a few simple pieces. The glow was pale. Pure. Unstained.
She picked up a family ring. Thorns and roses were carved into the silver. It was the last proof of the Elowen name. There wasn't much, but it was everything that truly belonged to her.
Maria entered the room with a basin of warm water. Her hands shook, and she almost bent the brass.
Her mistress was sealing the last of the documents. Her movements were too calm. It was frightening.
"My lady..." Maria's voice trembled. Her eyes turned red.
She had followed Lyra for over a decade. From a forgotten princess in the palace to a wife in the powerful Varyn household. She had seen everything.
Lyra didn't turn. She only gave a soft, short hum in reply.
"What are you going to do?"
Maria set the basin down. Water spilled. It darkened the edge of the expensive carpet.
She stepped closer. She stared at the box about to be locked.
"Are you really going to let it go? Just like that?"
Lyra finally stopped. She turned slowly. The morning light traced her sharp, pale face.
There was no rage. No grief. Only a quiet emptiness.
"Let it go?" She repeated the words. Her lips curled slightly. Cold. Mocking.
"Maria, I'll get my revenge."
"And my future won't be spent with a man who betrayed me."
This marriage had always been a lie.
Divorce. The word was clear in her mind. She would burn all bridges.
She wasn't just Kael Varyn's wife. She was the Crown Princess of Thorne. A title that never protected her. It only chained her.
So she broke every chain herself.
That sword had ended more than Kael's body. It ended their last shred of false peace.
From now on, it would be war between Lyra Thorne and Kael Varyn.
Suddenly, loud footsteps echoed. Sharp heels hit marble. Then the door slammed open.
Jessica Varyn entered, wrapped in a bold purple robe. Her face was twisted with fury.
She scanned the room. Her eyes locked onto the half-packed luggage. Her expression darkened.
"You dared hurt my son?! I'll kill you!"
Her voice was high-pitched. Piercing.
Lyra looked up. Her gaze met Jessica's anger head-on.
"What was I supposed to do? Smile while my husband kept a mistress? In our house?"
Her tone was quiet. Firm. Each word is clear.
"I am the Crown Princess of Thorne."
"Kael is a man! A war hero! It's normal for him to have sexual needs!" Jessica shouted.
"That girl, Selena, saved his life! She deserves compassion. As the lady of this house, you should show tolerance!"
Lyra almost laughed.
Jessica stepped forward, trying to grab her. Lyra moved aside.
Her patience ran out.
She turned. Fast. A hand swung.
Slap!
The sound echoed.
Jessica froze. Her hair was crooked. Her cheek burned with five red marks.
She couldn't believe it. The quiet daughter-in-law just hit her.
But Lyra had been raised by the Elowens. Not in a royal nursery, but among warriors. Jessica's strength was nothing to her.
Lyra dropped her hand. She shook her wrist. Her eyes were cold.
"Stay away from me."
Her voice was sharp.
Jessica stumbled back, clutching her cheek. It turned red in seconds.
"You… You hit me?" she gasped.
Lyra lowered her hand. Her skin was flushed.
She looked at Jessica. Her voice was quiet. Her tone was cutting.
"That was from the royal family."
"A lesson in what true nobility looks like."
"And the dignity of the royal family is inviolable."
"Next time, I won't stop with a slap."
She didn't spare another glance. She grabbed her luggage.
"Maria. We're leaving."
Lyra walked out, head high. She left behind a house full of betrayal.
That night, the royal palace was quiet. You could hear candles flicker.
The silence shattered.
The royal doctor burst into the king's study. His robe caught on the carpet. He fell to his knees.
"Your Majesty!"
His voice cracked. He shook all over.
King Aldric Thorne looked up. His golden eyes showed clear displeasure.
"Speak."
One word. Heavy.
"Duke Kael Varyn... he... the Princess... with a sword... his..."
The doctor couldn't say it. He pointed to his lower body. He trembled.
"It's gone."
The room froze.
The king's face darkened. He set his pen down. Ink spilled across his paperwork.
"What did you say?"
His voice was low. The doctor shook harder.
"We reattached it... but no one knows if it will work again."
Silence.
Then the king slammed his hand on the desk. The thick wood cracked.
"That ungrateful child!"
His shout shook the windows.
But then he calmed.
He had to protect her.
She was royal. His daughter. Her shame was his shame.
"Give the order," he said coldly.
"Surround the Princess's estate. No one enters or leaves. Tell the world she is unwell. She needs rest."
The doctor said nothing. He only bowed.
He knew. This wasn't protection. It was house arrest.
Moonlight fell on the Princess's roof. It reflected off rows of armor.
Royal guards stood in silence. They surrounded the estate.
The gates closed slowly. The iron thudded shut.
Maria stood outside. Her face turned pale. She ran into the dining room.
"Your Highness!"
She was breathless.
"We're surrounded! The King locked us in! This is house arrest!"
The dining table was set. Silver candles flickered.
Lyra sat at the head. Calm. She cut her lamb with quiet grace.
The knife tapped the plate. Clear. Gentle. Wrong against the fear outside.
She didn't even look up.
"Don't panic."
Her voice was calm. Flat.
"They're the king's own guards. We are safer than anyone."
Maria looked like she would cry.
"But the Varyns will twist this! Jessica will come after us! What do we do?"
Lyra finally put her utensils down.
She wiped her lips with a silk napkin. Her smile was faint. Cold.
She raised her wine glass. The red liquid shimmered in the candlelight.
"Let them come."
"The louder they scream, the better."
She took a sip. Her eyes gleamed.
"This game has only just begun."