The training hall stank of rust and body odour as my boots slid through someone else's sweat puddles. Theon's Morningstar-style flail whistled past my ear, close enough to kiss. Behind me, Mara's twin daggers carved the air where my kidneys had been half a heartbeat before.

"Eyes open, Baron!" Mara taunted, her braids leaving sweat streaks across leather Armour that creaked with every panther-quick movement. I twisted away from Theon, but Mara's knee slammed into my spine. White fire exploded through me.

I hit the reinforced mats shoulder-first, tasting copper. Theon's shadow fell over me, his breathing ragged. "I've seen beggars throw a better punch," he growled, but the insult lacked bite. He knew I was still recovering from the fight on the space station and coma...

Mara, his second, didn't have such reservations. Her boot tip nudged my ribs. "Up, Baron. Lords don't kneel." Her smirk faltered as she caught the tremor in my hands. The ghost of Seraphina's last words slithered between us again. 'I need you' spoken through tears. Tears that I had caused.

I surged upward, my nexus pushing me forward as I spat blood on the mat between us. Theon's flail became a silver blur. My training sword met it in a scream of sparking alloys. The impact jolted through my teeth. Mara struck low while I was staggered, her blunted dagger hilt cracking against my thigh again.

"Pathetic," Theon snarled, but it wasn't his voice anymore.

The memory hit like a plasma round Fast. Unwanted.

'The rebel leader's boot grinding into my chest, his breath reeking as he leaned down. "You'll never be ready." His scar twisted like a live wire with every sneering word. Twelve years old again, trainer's calloused palm cracking against my jaw. "Weak. Useless. Pathetic."'

Present and past overlapped as Mara's elbow connected with my solar plexus. I folded, retching acidic bile onto the mats. My arms felt leaden, my breath a rasp against my ribs. Theon came again—too fast, too soon. His knee met my chin on the way down. Lights danced behind my eyes - not the hall's harsh halogens, but memories flaring like a detonation. Seraphina's choked sob echoed through my brain.

"Enough." Jax's voice cut through the haze. My chief guard stood silhouetted in the doorway, disapproval radiating from his crossed arms. "He's due at the Meeting room in twenty."

Theon ripped open his shirt as he gasped for breath. "You're getting slower."

Mara offered a hand up. Her palm felt like sandpaper against my bleeding knuckles. "We could tell the ministers you fell downstairs," she offered, thumb brushing the fresh bruise flowering across my jawline.

I shook her off, staggering toward the weapon racks. My reflection in a dented wall panel showed a stranger - hair plastered with sweat and blood from split eyebrows, uniform tunic torn at the shoulder seam. A raw, trembling animal replaced the polished Baron Draven.

Theon blocked my path, holding out a canteen. "Drink. You're dehydrating."

I smashed it aside. Liquid splashed across the mats, mixing with other fluids. "I don't need-"

"Stop this!" Theon's roar rattled the rafters. Behind him, Mara exchanged a look with Jax. "That rebel nearly gutted you. He will again—unless you fix whatever's rotting your brain. You begged for this training, but all you're doing is bleeding out. Fix it, Alex."

Laughter tore from my throat, bitter as stim pills. "Fix it? How? You want to reboot me like one of your combat drones?" I gestured to the training drones, still smoking in the corner—casualties of my earlier rage.

Theon's eye locked onto mine. "Drones don't bleed, Alex." He nodded at the crimson blossom spreading across my hip where Mara's dagger had found flesh. "Your new guards report at 0800 tomorrow. Beta Team. You need better protection."

Jax bristled at the comment but held his tongue.

I leaned against the wall, suddenly aware of every throbbing welt. "Guards or jailers?"

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Mara snorted. "Yes." I liked her. She was Theon's right-hand woman, but she was so much more… different from him. Fiery, fierce, and wouldn't take shit from no one.

Jax stepped forward, datapad glowing in his calloused hands. "Shower. Then the Finance and military Ministers want to discuss colony tariffs and army funding." His nose wrinkled at my stench. "You do reek."

The walk to the Shower stalls felt longer than the battle. One of Mara's daggers still quivered in the wall where I'd thrown it after drawing first blood. Theon's final words chased me through the door - "They'll eat you alive if you give these ministers any ground."

I stripped down, pain causing me to winch as I stepped into the shower. Steam enveloped me, but no amount of scalding water could purge Seraphina's face from behind my eyelids. Her hands clenched in her dress, shoulders shaking. The way she'd whispered "I choose you" like a last hope…

A fist hammered on the stall, making me jump. "Five minutes!" Jax barked.

I turned my face into the spray, letting the roar of water drown out the scream building in my chest. When I emerged, Dried and presentable, the mirror showed Baron Draven - crisp uniform, damp hair combed back, every bruise hidden beneath cosmetics. Only the eyes betrayed me, twin fractures in the mask.

"Better," Jax grunted, handing me a painkiller vial.

I Shook my head, knowing I would regret not taking it, but I still felt the need to punish myself more... "The pain focuses me."

Jax sighed. "Whatever you want, Alex. Come on. Let's get this over with.

I followed Jax as he hurried along, twisting through the hallways and empty rooms. I had no idea how he already knew where he was going. Every new corner only made me uneasy, the sense that I was lost, growing more and more.

After what felt like hours, we stopped before a set of golden double doors. People hurried past us, not even giving me a look.

I rolled my shoulders, suppressing a wince as fresh bruises protested beneath my uniform. My ribs ached with every breath, and the faint taste of blood still clung to my tongue. But weakness wasn't an option, not before and especially not now.

"In here, Alex.." Motioned Jax as he opened the doors.

As I entered, one of the ministers steepled his sausage-like fingers, his scowl barely concealing his disdain. "Your indisposition has cost us dearly, Baron," he sneered, his voice slick with faux sympathy. "The Iron Spire's output is down thirty per cent. The Empire's envoy will skin us if—"

I knew I had to be hard. Stand firm. Jax had prepped me on all this. "The envoy isn't here yet," I cut in, slamming my hands onto the obsidian table. The crack was deafening. Pain spread through my knuckles, but I didn't flinch. I wouldn't. Not in front of them, keeping my glare locked on Baelor as if the pain didn't exist.

"And the Spire's collapse isn't due to indisposition. It's due to your neglect. Your inspectors ignored the safety reports. Your greed let the infrastructure rot. Minister Baelor."

Baelor's face purpled. "How dare y—"

"Enough." General Varek, the Military Minister, leaned forward, his cybernetic eye whirring as it focused on me. The jagged scar running down from his temple to his collarbone pulled taut as he spoke. "The Spire's instability is a security threat. If production halts, the Empire's legions will take Drakara from us, not negotiate. We need solutions. Now."

I met his gaze, my voice cold. "I'm going to the Spire today. We'll stabilize operations and. As I have been told they might hold a new source of revenue, we will investigate the Crystal Caverns."

Baelor snorted. "The Caverns? Superstitious nonsense. We need credits, not fairy tales."

Varek's eye narrowed, the mechanical iris clicking as it dilated. "The Caverns are a tactical risk. If rebels are hiding there—"

"Then I'll handle it," I snapped, my knuckles whitening against the table's edge.

Silence fell. Baelor exchanged a glance with Varek, smugness oozing from his pores.

"We will await your findings, Baron Draven," Baelor said, his voice straining against his teeth.

I looked at Varek, but his face didn't give anything away. He had one hell of a poker face. I nodded at them, turning to leave as Baelor spoke again. His voice couldn't hide his sneer.

"I heard that the esteemed Lady Seraphina Valtor is here now. I hope you are still going ahead with the wedding, Baron. We would not want any more cause for the Empire to remove you from power."

I didn't reply as I clenched my fists until my nails bit the skin. Seraphina. The ministers. The Empire. They all wanted something from me. A leader. A husband. A pawn.

Maybe it was time to stop being what they expected and start being something else.

I stepped out of the room, Jax closing the door behind me. "Alex…" He started as I slammed my fist into the wall opposite. The dent tinged red as pain exploded through my knuckles.

Jax exhaled, rubbing his jaw, debating whether to say more. "Look, I get it. But you need to be smart about this, Alex. You can't just—"

I rounded on him. "Can't just what? Make them afraid?"

He held my gaze for too long, then shook his head. "No. Can't just throw yourself at the fire and expect not to burn."

I heard Jax sigh again as I stormed down the hallway. They thought that I was someone they could push around. They thought I was weak.

I'd make them regret it.