Neve gulped, almost bowing under the immense pressure permeating the room. She and Vale were seated opposite their father, Duke Fallon, who had yet to speak. The desk between them did nothing to shield the Rosentine siblings from the Duke’s intimidating aura.

Beside her, Vale shifted, seeming to reach for something in his jacket. But he paused, bumping into Neve with the aborted movement.

Coward, Neve thought incredulously. He’s making me speak first. 

Neve lifted her gaze from her father’s desk, where it had been pointedly fixed from the moment she had stepped into his study. To her surprise, Duke Fallon was already looking at her. His steely gaze–eyes black as coal–evoked a childish fear in Neve. Her father was the only person in the world who could truly make her nervous.

“Father,” Neve began unsteadily. She cleared her throat, continuing with more poise. “Father, I apologize for the commotion I caused at the Royal Court. The situation at hand is now beyond my means, so we have returned to Ironhold for your assistance.”

Duke Fallon sighed, leaning back into his chair. He dragged his hand over his face tiredly, looking older and more weary than Neve could ever recall. It felt unsettling, seeing a man she viewed as invincible look so worn.

“Neve,” Duke Fallon said. “Vale. It has been many months since you have returned home. It is unfortunate that your return has been spoiled by these circumstances.”

Neve and Vale shared a look of surprise. They had expected to meet the full extent of their father’s wrath. He seemed oddly subdued and it was less than reassuring. 

“I, too, was taken by surprise by the annulment of the engagement,” Duke Fallon continued gravely. “Had Lucius still been well, this certainly would not have occurred.” 

“So, you agree Queen Elise is plotting something,” Vale blurted out, looking horrified with himself the second the words left his mouth.

Duke Fallon narrowed his eyes, fixing Vale with a warning scowl. “I am not accusing the Queen Consort of treason, if that is what you’re asking.”

“N-no, no! Of course not, Father,” Vale spluttered. In any other circumstance, Neve would have laughed.

“There is not enough evidence,” Duke Fallon admitted resignedly. “And what we currently know isn’t damning.”

Neve felt a pang of sympathy for her father. In his younger years, King Lucius and Queen Elise had been something like friends to the Duke. Now, it seemed like House Rosentine and the Royal Family had suddenly become enemies–their decades of camaraderie forgotten.

“Ultimately, the Queen is a foreigner,” the Duke continued sharply. “She is the Princess of Vicria, and though she is not a legal heir to the throne, she still must have an interest in who shall inherit the crown.”

“Are you suggesting…” Neve started, not wanting to vocalize the bold accusation her father seemed to imply.

“Yes,” Duke Fallon confirmed. “As he is the only male descendant of the current king, Prince Claris is the rightful heir to the Vicrian Empire. The country is on the brink of civil war, and conquering Asteria would bring economic and political stability.” 

“That’s insanity!” Vale exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. “The nobility would be up in arms if Queen Elise even suggested that.”

“Asteria is also at war with Bluhera,” Neve added. “Another war with Vicria could bring the country to ruin.”

“I agree, it sounds impossible,” Duke Fallon sighed. “But I cannot rule out the possibility. The Queen is not a stupid woman. She has yet to play all her cards. Until she does, we are at her mercy.”

They lapsed into silence as Vale and Neve contemplated their father’s words–and the deeper meaning underlying them.

“So we’re going to play along?” Vale spat. “You’re going to send Neve to the battlefield without any resistance.”

It was not a question. They already knew the answer. 

“My hands are tied,” the Duke replied calmly, though his eyes held a storm of ferocity. “We cannot risk the duchy by rebelling.”

Wordlessly, Vale reached into his jacket and pulled out the crumpled imperial order. He threw it onto the table, shaking with rage. The Duke glanced at it, but made no move to read it. He had likely received his own copy.

Neve reached for it, her curiosity getting the better of her. The paper was creased, the inked lettering almost illegible. Neve scanned the document, her eyes catching something.

Hell’s Gate Outpost.

The colour drained from Neve’s face. The sounds of her brother and father arguing faded into nothing. She could only hear the sound of her thundering heartbeat.

Hell’s Gate Outpost.

Neve read the words again. Again. Again. 

Hell’s Gate was the easternmost point of Asteria’s territory, bordering Bluhera. It was surrounded by hostile terrain, made even worse by its deadly storms.

It was also in the direct path of Bluhera’s central military base. 

The outpost was Asteria’s first line of defence. It was widely known that soldiers sent to Hell’s Gate would not return, and if they did, it would be in pieces.

Queen Elise truly meant for Neve to die.

Neve swallowed her panic, taking one deep, shuddering breath. This was just another trial she had to face. And like always, she would rise victorious. Only this time, Neve couldn’t quite convince herself to believe it.

The sound of her brother yelling snapped Neve out of her trance. 

“I will go in Neve’s place!” Vale shouted. “You can’t expect me to send my sister to die in battle. You’re a bastard for even considering it!”

“Enough!” Duke Fallon roared, slamming his fist against his desk. It shook from the brute force of the blow, sending parchments and pens tumbling to the ground. “You are the heir to the Rosentine duchy, you fool! This is only the beginning of the sacrifices you will have to make.”

The Duke paused to look at Neve, his expression unreadable. “Sometimes even lives must be sacrificed.”

“I understand my duty to the duchy,” Neve said solemnly. She turned to her brother, smiling slightly. “You cannot save me this time, Vale.”

Vale looked away, his expression raw. He stood slowly. “I can’t accept this. There must be something we can do.”

“Leave us, Vale,” Duke Fallon ordered. “Neve and I must discuss this–alone.”