Jhalen sat hunched over the spread of maps.

  The scent of sea salt drifted through the open window, mingling with the steady murmur of the surf. A heavy silence hung in the room.

  A knock shattered it—sharp, impatient.

  Before he could respond, the door burst open.

  The princess stormed in like a gale.

  Her cloak billowed behind her, wind-tossed hair in disarray. Her cheeks burned with anger—and with the strain of her run.

  “Belara?” Jhalen looked up, caught off guard by her sudden entrance.

  “I’m sorry, Jhalen,” she blurted, breathless. “But I need to know. Now.”

  “Sit,” he said calmly, gesturing toward a chair.

  Belara ignored him. She stayed where she was.

  “They’re whispering in the harbor,” she said, voice tight.

  “That Derdelen has fallen. That Kenderlan swallowed it whole, like some beast. And that we’re next. Some even claim he’s already made a deal with Zerboras.”

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  Her voice trembled, but she stood tall.

  Jhalen studied her in silence for a moment. Then, with a measured tone, he replied:

  “I’m aware that Kenderlan has taken Derdelen. I confirmed it myself. The king knows, and so do the trusted few. As for him coming for us—or dealing with Zerboras—I’ve heard no proof. Just rumors. Nothing more.”

  Belara stiffened. Her eyes glistened.

  “And you told me nothing.”

  “I didn’t want to frighten you. Belara, you’re not yet of age. You’re not part of the royal council. You don’t need to bear the weight of every truth—”

  A gull cried somewhere far off, breaking the silence that followed.

  “We have to act,”she said at last.

  “We’re seeking allies...” the High Counselor began.

  “No.” She cut him off sharply. “I’ve made my decision. I’m changing the choice I made months ago. But it’ll be on my terms.”

  She stepped closer to the table. Her voice wavered, but her eyes burned with defiance.

  “I’ll host a tournament.”

  “All three princes will come. I want to see them fight. Not dance. Not flaunt silk and flattery. My hand won’t be the prize. We’ll find another reward. This will be my trial. And they’ll show who they truly are. No masks. No lies. Maybe I’ll choose one of them. Maybe I won’t.”

  Jhalen raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s... unconventional. Risky, even. And I’m not sure it’s wise. The royal treasury is nearly drained. Most of the gold went to rebuilding the fleet.”

  “Everything’s risky now,” she snapped.

  “But sitting still is death. I don’t need a grand spectacle. Just a closed event. Small. Cheap. But real. I won’t wait for Kenderlan to swallow us like he did Derdelen. Not when I candosomething.”

  Jhalen looked at her—and saw her differently.

  Until now, he’d seen a girl.

  Today, for the first time, he saw a woman.

  A woman ready to defy the script—to shatter protocol into a thousand shards.

  “You’ll convince my parents,” she said firmly. “You know better than anyone what’s coming. And I need you.”

  He hesitated. Then bowed his head.

  “As you wish, Your Highness.”

  She smiled—truly smiled—for the first time.

  Not like a princess.

  But like a woman who had just come into her own.