The eastern capital was unlike anything Stef had ever seen. The streets were paved with smooth stone, gleaming under the soft lantern light, and the air was thick with the scent of spiced wine and roasted meats. Merchants called out their wares from beneath colorful awnings, and finely dressed nobles rode past in carriages adorned with family sigils. The city pulsed with a kind of restrained energy—one that masked an undercurrent of tension just beneath the surface.
Stef pulled his hood lower, blending in with the crowd as he took in his surroundings. This was no battlefield, no blood-soaked frontier; this was a place where war was waged with words, alliances, and whispered secrets in candlelit halls. And he would need to learn its language quickly if he was to survive.
He had secured himself a position in the royal court under the guise of a scholar, an identity built on carefully placed rumors and forged credentials. It was a dangerous gamble, but he knew enough about the kingdom's history, literature, and strategy to play the part convincingly. The court valued knowledge as much as strength, and for now, his mind was his greatest weapon.
The palace was a sprawling marvel of white stone, perched on a hill that overlooked the city. Inside, golden chandeliers bathed the halls in warm light, and servants moved swiftly and silently, careful never to draw attention. Stef had been given quarters among the lesser advisors—a modest room, but close enough to the heart of power that he could observe without suspicion.
His first few days were spent listening. He attended court sessions, watched as nobles postured and schemed, and learned the names of those who held true influence. The king, old and frail, sat upon his throne like a relic of a bygone era. His words were slow, his decisions cautious, and it was clear to everyone that he would not rule much longer. The question of succession loomed over the court like a storm cloud.
Factions were forming, each with their own vision for the future. Some called for a strong military leader, someone who could expand the kingdom's borders and crush its enemies before they could rise. Others whispered of diplomacy, of forging alliances that would ensure stability rather than war. And then there were those who sought change—true, radical change—that would unseat the old ways entirely.
Stef knew he had to be careful. Aligning himself with the wrong faction too soon could mean his downfall. But standing on the sidelines for too long would make him irrelevant. He needed to act, but first, he needed an ally.
That was when he met River of House Thalion.
River was sharp-eyed and confident, with a presence that demanded attention without effort. She was the youngest daughter of a noble house known for its cunning rather than its wealth or military might. Rumors said she had returned from an extended stay abroad, though no one quite knew what she had been doing during those years away.
Their first meeting was brief, a passing exchange at a formal gathering where Stef caught her watching him with interest. Their second meeting, however, was more deliberate. She found him in the palace gardens late one evening, where he had retreated to clear his thoughts.
"You don't belong here," she said, leaning casually against a marble pillar.
Stef turned, arching a brow. "And yet, here I am."
She smirked. "That's what makes you interesting. The court is full of people who were born into their roles. You? You chose to be here. Why?"
He hesitated, considering his answer carefully. "Knowledge. Influence. The ability to shape the future."
River nodded, as if she had expected that answer. "Then you and I have something in common."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "There's more happening in this city than what the nobles let on. Have you heard the rumors?"
Stef had, but he wanted to hear her version. "Which ones?"
"Of an underground movement," she said. "One that doesn't just want to influence the next ruler—they want to tear down the monarchy entirely."
Stef studied her carefully. It was impossible to tell if she was testing him, recruiting him, or simply warning him. But one thing was clear: he had just stepped into a much larger game than he had anticipated.
And he had no choice but to play.