CHAPTER 566: THE ROYAL PRINCESS (END)

"Nor will I forget you, Lord Evocatore," she said, her voice soft but edged with an unmistakable sharpness. "We will meet again soon enough."

The words hung in the air, like a thread pulled taut between them, and for a moment, Lyan wondered if the room itself had frozen. The air felt thick, and despite the coolness of the stone walls, he could feel the heat of her gaze like a brand on his skin. What did she mean by that? What game was she playing?

His mind raced, but Lyan kept his composure. He had dealt with far more dangerous people than Anastasia, but there was something about her that unsettled him—something that made him pause, made him question the ease with which he had navigated this world before.

The moment stretched, each second a little longer than the last, before Surena’s voice broke through the tension. "We’ve got to go, Lyan," she said, her tone uncharacteristically gentle, but her eyes never left Anastasia. There was something there, something Lyan couldn’t quite place, but it was as clear as the daylight streaming through the windows—Surena didn’t trust Anastasia, not entirely.

Wilhelmina stepped forward, her gaze moving between the two of them before settling on Lyan. "It’s time," she said, her voice steady and firm, but Lyan could hear the underlying note of caution in her words. She didn’t need to say more; Wilhelmina had always been the kind of person who didn’t mince words when it came to matters of importance. She understood the stakes, even if Lyan didn’t yet know all of them.

As Surena and Wilhelmina began to move toward the door, Lyan gave Anastasia one last glance, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between them. The court was full of political games, of people playing their parts, but this—this felt different. He had fought the princess, yes, but there was more to her than met the eye. What was her true game? And where did she stand in the grand scheme of things?

Without another word, he turned toward Surena, following her out of the room. The soft click of the door behind him echoed in his mind, a final reminder that their meeting, though over, was far from finished.

As they stepped into the hallway, Lyan felt a weight settle over him—a weight that had little to do with the physical exhaustion from the duel and everything to do with the political maneuvering that had just begun. Surena walked in front of him, her steps steady, her expression unreadable, but he could sense the tension in the air. Wilhelmina, ever the pragmatic one, kept pace beside him, her face calm but her mind clearly at work.

They walked in silence for a moment before Surena spoke, her voice low but filled with meaning. "Watch your back, Lyan. The princess isn’t just a pretty face with a sword. She’s a player in this game, and one who knows how to make her moves count."

Lyan’s lips twitched, a hint of a smile breaking through his stoic expression. "I know," he said quietly. "But I’m not so easily caught off guard."

"I know you’re not," Surena replied. "But be careful. The court’s full of wolves, and the princess? She’s got teeth."

Lyan nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. He had underestimated Anastasia before, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. The game was just beginning, and he needed to be prepared for what came next.

As they made their way down the hall, Lyan couldn’t shake the feeling that Anastasia was already five steps ahead of him. She had issued a challenge, tested him, and now she was watching, waiting for him to make his next move. But Lyan wasn’t worried. He had his own game to play, and he wouldn’t let anyone—least of all a princess—distract him from his goal.

They exited the palace into the cool air of the courtyard, the weight of the world pressing down on Lyan’s shoulders. But for now, he would let the moment breathe. The princess’s challenge, her cryptic words—they could wait. There were other matters to attend to, other battles to fight. The court was still a game, and Lyan Evocatore intended to play it like he always had: with caution, with skill, and with the knowledge that nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.

The door to the world beyond the palace closed behind him, and he stepped forward, the game continuing, the stakes rising.

_____

The royal court behind them felt distant now, as though they had stepped out of a world of intrigue and into something quieter, more certain. But the tension didn’t fade—it only shifted. Lyan could feel it pressing against him, a reminder that his every step was now part of something bigger. He glanced at Surena and Wilhelmina, who flanked him with their own unspoken thoughts weighing down the air. Surena’s sharp eyes never left him, her silent assessment making it clear she was reading him as much as he was reading the situation. Wilhelmina, though still the calm strategist, had a certain steel in her gaze. She was ready for whatever came next, and Lyan could see that in her posture, the way her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword, always prepared.

As they walked through the city streets of Dunbridge, the bustling city felt foreign, its noise now a distant hum compared to the quiet intensity that surrounded them. Lyan’s mind was still caught on Anastasia—how easily she had shifted from delicate porcelain to a deadly blade, how she had tested him in ways he hadn’t anticipated. But more than that, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t done with him yet.

Surena’s voice cut through his thoughts. "The princess is not to be taken lightly, Lyan," she said, her tone low but firm, carrying that weight of experience that made even the air seem heavier. "You’ve made an enemy of the Crown Prince, and now you’ve gained the attention of his sister. Be careful where you place your loyalty."

Her words hit Lyan harder than he expected. He had known the Crown Prince’s ambitions, but he hadn’t fully considered how dangerous Anastasia could be. Her intellect alone would make her a formidable opponent, but it was the quiet power she held that troubled him. She hadn’t just challenged him in the sparring hall—she had tested his resolve, and he had passed. But he knew this was far from over.

Lyan nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of her warning. His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the hilt of his sword, the rhythmic motion grounding him in the moment. The game, as he’d suspected, was not going to be easy. The stakes were higher than he had anticipated, and now, more than ever, he needed to play his cards carefully.

"I know," he said finally, his voice steady but with a hint of something deeper. "I didn’t expect her to be that... calculating. She’s not just a princess, Surena. She’s a player in this game, and I don’t think she’s done testing me."

Surena glanced at him, her eyes sharp. "She won’t be," she said simply. "The princess has been watching you for a while, I’m sure of it. You’re not the first to be tested by her, but you may be the first to survive it."

Lyan chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "Survive it," he echoed. "I’m not sure I’ve earned that distinction yet. We’ll see."

Their footsteps echoed in the streets, and as they neared the gates of Dunbridge, Lyan’s gaze shifted upward, taking in the towering castle that had been their battleground for the day. He couldn’t help but wonder if the walls themselves had eyes—if the palace had been watching them, listening to their every word, weighing their every move. It was no secret that the political games played behind closed doors could be as dangerous as any battle fought on the field. And Lyan, despite his experience, knew that he was now part of that game.

Wilhelmina, always the pragmatist, broke the silence. "The princess is a force, Lyan. But don’t forget, the crown has its own schemes. If you place yourself too clearly in one camp, you’ll make yourself an enemy in another."

Lyan turned his head slightly, acknowledging her words with a nod. He knew that the truth of her statement ran deeper than anything spoken aloud. He couldn’t afford to put all his eggs in one basket—not when the stakes were this high. But Grafen came first. Always.

"I’m here for the people of Grafen, Wilhelmina," Lyan said firmly, his resolve deepening. "I won’t forget that. But the crown isn’t just going to hand us power. We’re going to have to take it, piece by piece."

"I don’t doubt that," Wilhelmina replied, her voice measured. "But take care, Lyan. The game is more complicated than it looks, and every move you make now will have consequences."

As they approached the city gates, the wind picked up, ruffling the hem of Lyan’s cloak. It felt like a small omen, a reminder that the winds of fate were shifting, and he had to be ready for whatever came next.

Lyan stopped just outside the gates, looking back at the city one last time. The sun had begun to dip behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the stone streets. The city that had seemed so alive and bustling just hours before now felt distant, as though it were already fading into the past.

But there was no time for nostalgia. The political landscape was shifting beneath his feet, and Lyan had to stay ahead of the game. He turned back toward Surena and Wilhelmina, his expression hardening as his mind sharpened, his focus becoming razor-thin.

"I need to make the next move," he said, his voice resolute. "Grafen’s future depends on it. And I won’t let anyone, not even Anastasia, stand in the way of that."

Surena raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She knew the weight of Lyan’s words better than anyone. He was a man driven by purpose, and nothing would sway him from that path. Wilhelmina, on the other hand, gave him a small, knowing nod. She had always understood the complexities of power and politics. She, too, knew that the stakes were only going to rise from here.

They continued their journey away from Dunbridge, the city fading into the distance as they moved toward Grafen. The road was long, but Lyan felt the pull of his home—Grafen, the place he had vowed to protect. The village was still young, still growing, but it had the potential to become something much greater. Lyan had always known that, and now, with the Crown Prince and Princess Anastasia in play, it was clearer than ever.

But there was something else pulling at him—an unease that he couldn’t shake. The game was no longer just about survival. It was about power, about control, and about trust. And Lyan, for all his intelligence and strength, knew that he would have to navigate this new web carefully.

As they walked, Surena spoke again, her tone casual but her words carrying a weight Lyan couldn’t ignore.

"The princess has her eyes on you, Lyan. But don’t forget that the crown has a way of breaking people who get too close. You’ve made enemies today, and not just in Dunbridge. The road ahead is dangerous, and you’re going to have to be smarter than ever if you want to survive it."

Lyan didn’t respond immediately. He was too busy thinking about what she had said—about the danger of getting too close to the crown, about the shifting balance of power that was playing out in front of him. His mind churned, sifting through every possibility, every option. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t backing down. He couldn’t. Grafen needed him.

"I know," he said finally, his voice low but determined. "But I’m not here to survive. I’m here to build something that lasts. Something real. I won’t let anyone take that from me."

Surena said nothing, but there was a look in her eyes—something that said she understood. She had always known that Lyan was different. He wasn’t just a mercenary, a wanderer. He was a man with a vision. And as they moved down the road toward Grafen, Surena, Wilhelmina, and Lyan all knew one thing for certain: this was just the beginning.

The weight of the world hung heavily on Lyan’s shoulders, but it wasn’t a weight he feared. It was a burden he was willing to carry. Because in the end, it was not just about playing the game—it was about winning it.

And with that, the Chapter closed, Lyan’s resolve hardening like steel in the forge. The game had begun, and he would play it on his terms, or not at all.