Linus strode through the dimly lit corridor, his boots echoing against the stone floor with each step. His mind raced, fragments of the evening’s revelations colliding and reassembling into patterns he struggled to understand.

He raised a hand to knock, hesitated, and then rapped firmly against the heavy wooden door.

The sound barely faded before the door creaked open. Mara filled the doorway, her gaze sharp and appraising.

“What happened?” she asked, her tone clipped.

She was dressed in a sleek, scarlet top that hugged her frame, the fabric catching the low light and seeming to pulse with the same fire that burned in her dark eyes. Black pants clung to her legs, designed for practicality but exuding a quiet elegance. Linus couldn’t help but notice how the outfit amplified her natural intensity. Her presence was magnetic and commanding.

As Linus stepped into the room, his gaze darted around, taking in the organized chaos of Mara’s workspace. The table at the center was dominated by a map of Thornfield, its surface littered with small, colored markers denoting key locations. A set of daggers lay meticulously arranged beside it, their polished steel gleaming in the flickering candlelight. Stacks of parchment were scattered nearby, each covered in Mara’s precise, angular handwriting. The air hummed with the tension of strategy in progress.

Mara moved to the table, her movements brisk, purposeful. She didn’t sit; she stood with her hands braced on the edge, her sharp eyes never leaving Linus as he closed the door behind him.

“Well?” she prompted, the steel in her voice cutting through the silence. “What happened?”

Once inside, Linus didn’t waste a moment. The words spilled out of him, each revelation hitting like a hammer: the assassination attempt on Eliza, the assassin’s confession, and the ominous truth about the Phoenix Blade. He paced as he spoke, his voice steady but urgent, the weight of the night’s events pressing hard against his chest.

Mara stood by the table, her eyes narrowing with each detail. Her jaw tightened, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. She didn’t interrupt, but the storm brewing behind her gaze was impossible to miss.

When Linus finally finished, she turned sharply, her voice slicing through the room like a blade. “We need to arrest the mayor. And those two Sorenputhra spies. Now. If we don’t, they’ll move forward unchallenged.”

Her determination was palpable, her tone leaving no room for debate. But Linus had anticipated this. He raised a hand, his voice calm but firm. “Princess, it’s not that simple.”

She froze mid-step, spinning to face him. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression hard. “What part of stopping them is complicated, Linus?” she demanded, the fire in her eyes daring him to argue.

Linus didn’t flinch. “Several parts,” he said, his tone measured as if trying to steady a ship against the rising tide. “If we move on them now, there’s a high chance they’ll either kill themselves to avoid capture or refuse to talk. These aren’t amateurs—they’ve been trained for this. They’ll take their secrets to the grave.”

Mara’s lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration simmering just below the surface. She uncrossed her arms only to pace the room, the heels of her boots clicking against the stone floor. “Fine,” she bit out. “And what else? Because I know there’s more.”

“There is,” Linus admitted, his voice softening slightly. “Even if we manage to take them alive, there’s the issue of the Tradewood family.”

At that name, Mara froze mid-stride, her back stiffening as if she’d been struck. The mention of the Tradewoods carried a weight that seemed to settle over her shoulders, dragging her posture taut. Linus, watching from behind, felt a strange thrill ripple through him—not triumph, but something sharper, knowing he’d hit a nerve.

Linus watched as Mara’s shoulders tightened when he uttered the name Tradewood. It was subtle, a flicker of unease in an otherwise impenetrable exterior. But he caught it, and he relished it. For all her strength, her fire, even Mara had her vulnerabilities, and Linus knew exactly how to press them. The way her body tensed, the muscles in her back rippling under the clinging fabric of her top, was almost hypnotic. She was a storm contained, but storms could be directed.

The more isolated she felt, the better it was for his plans for her.

He let the silence linger, savoring the charged atmosphere between them. When he finally spoke, his tone was low and deliberate, like a calm tide lapping at the edge of her storm.

“We have to be careful, Princess Mara,” he said, each word measured. “Tradewood’s reaction could spiral this into something far beyond our control.”

Mara turned slightly, just enough for him to catch the sharp line of her jaw, the fire simmering in her eyes. She hated feeling boxed in, hated even more the implication that she might not have all the answers. Linus let his words hang in the air, watching as she struggled against the invisible walls closing in.

“And don’t forget,” he added, his voice dipping lower, “the complication of your sister’s betrothal to the Sorenputhra prince.”

Mara stiffened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. Linus watched with quiet satisfaction as the tension radiated from her, her every movement betraying how deeply that truth rankled her.

“That alliance,” he continued, his tone soft but unyielding, “ties your hands in ways we can’t ignore. If we act recklessly, we risk jeopardizing more than this mission—we risk making enemies of both Tradewood and Sorenputhra.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Mara spun to face him fully now, her eyes sharp as daggers. “So what?” she snapped. “We just sit back and wait for them to make their move? We can’t let them dictate the pace, Linus.”

Her frustration crackled in the air, palpable and fierce. Linus took a deliberate step closer, his calm presence a stark contrast to her rising tempest. “I’m not suggesting we sit back and do nothing, Princess,” he said, his voice steady and soothing. “I’m saying we need to be strategic. Precise. We monitor the mayor and the Sorenputhra spies, gather everything we can. Let them tip their hand first.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her fists slowly unclenching as she worked to steady her breathing. Linus could see the wheels turning in her mind, her fiery resistance giving way to a grudging acceptance of his logic. He pressed on, his voice softening just enough to coax her further into his web.

“Meanwhile,” he continued, “I’ll dig deeper into the Phoenix Blade. If we find it before they do, it becomes our leverage. With that in hand, we’ll control the board.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed, her mind racing through the intricacies of the plan. “And what if they act before we can stop them?”

Linus stepped closer again, close enough to feel the heat of her presence, his voice firm but reassuring. “We’ll be ready. Your spies will watch their every move. The second there’s a hint of action, we strike. Swiftly. Decisively.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she turned her gaze back to the map on the table, her hands flattening against its surface as she took a deep breath. Linus could almost feel the tension in her giving way to resolve, the fierce determination in her eyes hardening into cold strategy.

“I’ll have my people monitor them,” she said at last, her voice sharp but steady. “The moment we have enough to act, we move.”

Linus nodded, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Agreed Princess. And in the meantime, I’ll focus on finding the Phoenix Blade. With it, we won’t just react to their plans—we’ll control the outcome.”

Before he could press further, Mara straightened abruptly and turned to him, her gaze piercing. “And what happens,” she asked, her tone low and dangerous, “if your precious strategy costs us everything? What happens if waiting means losing what little advantage we have left?”

Linus met her glare head-on, his expression calm, but his voice laced with a quiet intensity. “That won’t happen,” he said. “Because we’re not just waiting, Mara. We’re setting the stage. And when the time comes, we’ll be the ones pulling the strings.”

For a long moment, they stood in charged silence, the tension between them thick, their unspoken truths coiling in the air like smoke. Then Mara broke it, her voice cutting through like a blade.

“Linus,” she said, her tone heavy, tinged with something darker, “there’s something you need to know.”

Linus tilted his head, curiosity sharpening his features. “Yes, Princess?” His voice was gentle, but beneath it lay a probing edge, hungry for the pieces she might lay bare.

Mara hesitated, her eyes clouding as if weighing whether to share the burden. When she finally spoke, her words were steeped in grim resolve. “It’s about Alexander—my brother. His campaign to consolidate power…” She paused, the muscles in her jaw tightening. “It’s taken a darker turn. He’s not just pressuring the smaller factions anymore. He’s crushing them. Entire families are being wiped out for refusing loyalty. His methods—they’re becoming vicious.”

Linus stood perfectly still, his expression measured as he absorbed her words. Inside, his mind churned.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Princess Mara,” he said finally, his voice calm and deliberate. “But how far is he willing to go?”

Mara crossed her arms, the movement stiff, defensive. “Far enough to risk destabilizing the entire kingdom,” she said, her voice tight. “And it’s not just Alexander. Rudhiran’s tribe, under King Varuk the Bloodhanded, is rising, too. He’s spreading terror—slaughtering anyone who doesn’t submit. His forces are growing bolder by the day.”

Linus narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. “Varuk the Bloodhanded,” he repeated, the name leaving a bitter taste. Varuk’s ruthlessness was legendary. His rise was bad enough on its own, but paired with Alexander’s aggression, the region was teetering on the edge of collapse. And collapse would ruin the careful foundation Linus had been building in Thornfield.

“And Mariya?” he asked, his voice low, steady. “Could they be involved?”

Mara’s expression hardened at the name, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Most likely,” she said, her voice colder now. "Mariya’s government supplying Rudhiran’s forces with weapons and resources. It’s calculated. They know Alexander’s campaign is tearing the region apart, and they’re using the chaos to their advantage.”

Linus suppressed a flicker of unease, keeping his countenance calm. The Kingdom of Mariya had been a constant rival, and their politics were always at odds with his country. Mariya was cunning, often working in the shadows, destabilizing neighboring lands through alliances with rebel groups and subtle manipulations. Their leadership, known for its intelligence networks, always acted strategically, waiting for the chaos they could exploit.

This was far worse than he’d hoped. Mariya’s involvement meant time was running out—every day brought the region closer to all-out war. War might tighten Mara’s dependence on him, yes, but it would also force his hand before his plans were fully in place. He couldn’t afford to move yet—but he also couldn’t risk waiting too long.

“Mariya’s playing a dangerous game,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “If Alexander continues this, he’ll push more factions into Rudhiran’s camp. Mariya will benefit from the chaos, and we’ll lose what little control we have left.”

Linus moved closer, his tone softening, becoming more deliberate. “We have to be careful, Princess. This isn’t just a matter of Rudhiran or Alexander. Either way, it looks like we’re heading for full-scale war, and we need to be prepared."

Mara’s eyes met his, a silent understanding passing between them. "Agreed. I’ll have my spies double their efforts, tracking Alexander’s movements and gathering more intel on Rudhiran. We need to know what their next move is."

Linus nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I’ll dig deeper into Mariya’s involvement," he said, though his mind was anything but calm.

Time was slipping through his fingers faster than he’d anticipated. The escalating violence, the rising chaos—it meant he couldn’t afford to linger in the shadows of Thornfield for long. He would need to accelerate his plans and take risks he hadn’t prepared for. But there was an opportunity in the storm, too.

As they parted ways, Linus lingered, his gaze following Mara as she returned to the map on the table. She was so focused, so consumed by the looming threat, that she didn’t notice the faint smile curling at the corner of his lips. The more the storm raged, the more Mara would lean on him, trust him, and rely on his guidance. Every crack in her armor, every inch of isolation, would bring her closer to his web.

But he had to tread carefully. One misstep and the chaos would drown them both. And while Mara feared war, Linus saw its potential. Amid the instability, he would find his moment to seize control—both of Thornfield and of the formidable woman who stood at its heart.