Warchief's look of momentary surprise quickly shifted into laughter.

"I should have expected such a reaction from you. I almost feel like I should be offended. Is it that unimaginable that I helped you out of the kindness of my heart?"

Lidea stared at him, wondering if he expected her to answer such a stupid question. As he silently stared back, that ridiculous grin still plastered on his face, she concluded that he did. Rolling her eyes at his behavior, she relented.

"If you did, then that would mean that you were a reckless idiot. You brought everyone here in danger through that stunt. The king's guard will be hunting us down as we speak, and they will not give up any time soon. Are you sure that your camp is hidden enough to be safe?"

Lidea knew that his merriness was just a façade, as she could see how he analyzed her response. She felt like he was testing her yet again, just as he had done in that prison cell. Though the reason why still eluded her.

"Well, you wouldn't be the first to call me reckless or stupid."

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to hold it before releasing it slowly. Refusing to be further aggravated by his answers, or rather non-answers.

"Look, we both know that you had a reason. Now, I don't know if there is any point in you acting as if you didn't or if you just enjoy irritating the people around you. I suggest that you explain your motivations to me, and we can have a discussion instead of going in circles like this."

For the first time, the smile fell from his face, and Lidea thought she saw a glimpse of the real leader of the resistance—a solemn man burdened by the weight of the many lives he was responsible for. He turned away from her, choosing to stare at her curtain wall as he leaned his elbows onto his knees.

"I had thought to give you more time to recover before discussing my reasons. Obviously, I underestimated your tenacity. You aren't going to rest unless I give you a clear answer, are you?"

A deep sigh marked his rhetorical question as he straightened his back.

"I decided to save you because we need you to win."

His words lingered in her ears, but they failed to make any sense. She had no talent for magic, and although she might be handy with a sword, there were many better than her. By no means could she play a role important enough to justify him taking such a risk. She was just a scarred woman with a tarnished name, who was responsible for the death of hundreds.

"You still don't realize your own value."

Lidea looked up to see that he had turned to face her again. His smile had returned, but it was neither nonchalant nor mocking. Instead, his expression expressed a sad sort of understanding.

"I am not the one to undersell myself, but I just do not see in what way I can be of help to you now."

"I said it before. You are a symbol, Lidea. People might not have risked themselves to protect you, but you earned the respect of many by doing what you did."

Remembering the cheering of the crowd at her execution, she wondered if he didn't overestimate her influence on the people.

"Maybe, but even so, what use is a symbol that nobody wants to fight for? Also, I thought that the resistance didn't fight?"

Warchief stood up from the bed, apparently too agitated to stay seated any longer. Her eyes followed him as he started pacing in the small space next to her bed.

"It is true that we only supported people by funneling them out of the country, but we can't afford to keep a passive stance anymore. Morto is planning to go to war."

The statement piqued Lidea's interest as it confirmed her suspicions. In her mind, she cursed Morto for being spineless. Those fanatics of the church might believe that their 'god' will make victory inevitable, still, he should have known better. It will only make the people suffer.

"Isn't that a good thing for you? Lynoës stands no chance against countries that didn't give up on magic."

Warchief stopped pacing as he regarded her. The worry that she saw on his face surprised her. He couldn't honestly believe that their army was a threat to others. As if their shields and swords would stand any chance against fire cannons, storms of lightning, or any of the other things that magic holders were said to be proficient in. Maybe they would even be using magical beasts?

As much as she never would want to face a magical army, the idea of seeing their military capabilities excited her.

"I am not so sure of that. Magic is rare south of the Deadlands. It is not like most countries would have an army full of wizards to stand against them. Lynoës was one of the few exceptions, probably because the Dragon Order attracted many magic holders to settle here. After the destruction of Hûldral, it was the only order left that offered magic education to those who weren't potential dragon-riders."

For the first time, Lidea apprehended how little she knew about the world. As part of the nobility, she had always considered herself to be well-educated, even though she had stopped at fourteen. She had only lost a year of her normal education, as most noble ladies started their bridal classes at fifteen. But none of her tutors had ever mentioned these facts to her.

According to them, the Dragon Order had been an army base consisting of a couple of platoons of dragon-riding knights. They had left Lynoës when her parents were still children, as they wanted more power than the royal family would agree to. None of them had ever mentioned that it was an academy of sorts, as Warchief described it.

They had never discussed Hûldral either. The only reason Lidea was even familiar with the name was due to her father's bedtime stories. In those, it was a country inhabited by mythical beings who created magic in all its forms. Never would she have expected it to be a real place.

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

She wondered if her father had known more about it, or if the erasure of their history had started long before the ban on magic took place.

Warchief didn't seem to have picked up on her inner revelations. Instead, he was pacing again as he continued his monologue.

"Also, the Pleberien faith has already spread to some of them. I wouldn't be surprised if their leaders chose to adopt the faith and avoid the conflict altogether. Too scared that their normal population would rebel if they try to protect a privileged and small minority within the country. They all saw what happened in Lynoës."

Lidea thought back to Morto. How he dealt with the situation and the decisions he made would become an example for other countries. His ruthlessness in tackling magic had brought relative peace to the country. But there was no denying that the country was in decline.

A sense of dread settled within her chest as the reality of what Warchief was describing became clear to her. She had always thought of the church as a plague on Lynoës, but she never considered that it would extend beyond the country's borders. If he was correct, then the entire south from the Neridean Ocean to the Deadlands would be under their thumb. Where would people escape to then? To the north of the Deadlands? She had never heard of anyone successfully making the trip.

"You appear to understand my concerns now. The magic world can't ignore the situation anymore. We have to gather ourselves and fight, or everyone in the south could lose their lives."

Lidea could hear the frustration in his words, and she vaguely wondered if he had tried to ask for help from the "magic world" before but had gotten nowhere.

"I don't want to burst your bubble, but most people will not fight if they aren't under immediate threat. Somehow, they always believe that the danger won't come to them."

He stopped pacing once again, and his face broke into a smile once more.

"Very probable, and in that case, they deserve the fate coming to them. But I am not willing to give up without giving it my best shot. At least if I fail, then I can sleep well knowing that I have done what I could. Or I will be dead and won't have to worry about my consciousness anymore. A win-win situation for me."

The wink accompanying his words made her shudder. She couldn't understand how he could talk about his death so easily. But then again, she realized that he hadn't sat in a prison cell awaiting his death for a month. After that experience, she was far less inclined to throw around the idea of dying.

"Good on you. And what role do you see me playing in all of this?"

Her question seemed to refocus Warchief on the matters at hand. He stopped pacing and sat down on the bed once again. His smile had turned to a grin, not dissimilar to that of a merchant wanting to butter up his customer to buy their latest overpriced product. She narrowed her eyes, preparing to not like whatever he was going to say next.

"I want to overthrow Lynoës and uproot all traces of the Pleberien faith. However, even if it is destroyed, it does not mean that it will never come back. To ensure that it is gone for good, the country must be put back together in a way that makes it better than before. Someone will need to lead it onto a better path."

"And you think that someone is me?"

Lidea couldn't help her voice expressing disbelief. How could he even suggest that she was capable of leading a country? He didn't know her! Did he even consider if she would want to?

"Think about it. These people will need someone reliable. A countryman that they know and trust. Everyone knows who you are and what the name Valkyrea stands for. Both your father and you have shown them that you would rather die than give up your morality. Those with magic see you as a hero, defending the persecuted even if it does not benefit you. For those without magic, you are a symbol that they will never be oppressed again, as the power will now finally be in the hands of someone like them.

To further sweeten the deal, you appear to be born with a good head on your shoulders and have military experience. They know that you will be able to defend them in the future. You are the genius teen they all gossiped about, the one who against all odds kept her men out of the king's hands for six years. A woman who showed them that she could lead as well, if not better, than any man.

Tell me, Lidea, who do you think is better suited for that role?"

Lidea couldn't react, too shaken up by the idea. It was crazy. How could he even think of making her into a queen? That aside, he was planning to rip apart her motherland. It was one thing to protect themselves from an invasion, but to go into the country and destroy everything?

Even though the rational part of her brain understood his logic, she couldn't keep her heart from racing. Her face paled as her breathing became unsteady just thinking about the outcomes of such actions.

"How can you even ask such a thing of me? What about my mother and sister? King Morto, Prince Valerian? What will happen to them?"

His eyes filled with compassion as he calmly answered her irrational questions.

"I don't know. Maybe your mother and sister will stay safe, but you know as well as I do that nobody is completely safe during war. As for the current royalty, they could flee, but I don't think they will."

"I can't do this!"

A brief silence fell, in which Lidea could only hear her haggard breathing. Warchief was looking at his hands, which he held folded in his lap. Wringing his hands, he seemed to hesitate before responding.

"Lidea, you are in shock, hungry, and exhausted. I think it is better to discuss this when you feel better. Still, I will say one thing. Please consider that while you are thinking of how to keep them safe, they all left you to die."

Tears rolled over her cheek and stung the burn. She was aware of what he was trying to make her understand, but she was not ready to accept that reality yet. Even if they had been willing to kill her, the idea that she would have a hand in their murder horrified her.

"I'm not a queen..."

The words came out as a soft plea, begging him not to force her into that role.

"Not yet."

More tears followed the first, and he sighed before turning to her once more.

"Believe me, that I won't force you. If you decide not to be involved, then I will personally help you leave this country after your recovery."

Even through her blurry vision, she could see the sincerity in his eyes. Not feeling as cornered as before, her breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

"Are you okay? Do I need to get Crystal?"

Lidea was tempted to say yes, even if it was only to see Crystal scold Warchief for making her upset. But she would rather not have the healer see her in this state.

"I'm okay. I just need to rest."

He nodded slowly in understanding and stood up from the bed, pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket to offer it to her. She gladly accepted it and started wiping her tears away.

"Let me grab that broth. I don't want you to fall asleep before you eat, or Crystal will murder me."

Lidea smiled slightly as she saw him disappear through the curtains. She could hear the clanking of kitchen utensils while she waited for him to warm the food. She didn't wait long, as he returned almost immediately. Lidea was a bit disappointed by the idea that the soup was going to be cold, but was pleasantly surprised when the plate felt hot to the touch. She didn't think too much about it, too consumed by the thought of shoveling food into her stomach. Warchief looked at her with a raised eyebrow and reminded her a couple of times that she was supposed to eat slowly. Lidea mostly ignored the remarks as she practically inhaled the broth. Even after a five-day fast, her body had no problem consuming much at a fast rate.

They sat in companionable silence as Lidea mulled over their earlier conversation. Now that she had calmed down and her stomach was pleasantly full, she could feel bone-deep exhaustion come over her. Yawning, she looked at Warchief again as he took her plate from her.

"Crystal said your name was Warchief... That isn't your real name, right?"

Mischief sparked in his orange eyes as he smiled down at her.

"It is my real name in this camp. Now leave your curiosity for another day and rest."