His Bride, Her Revenge

The throne room was no longer a symbol of unity.

It had become a battlefield of wills.

Ashes clung to the carved obsidian tiles, the gilded banners of House Vale shredded and smeared with blood. The stained glass windows that once told the story of the Vale lineage were shattered, shards glittering like fallen stars on the ground.

Cambria stood at the center of it all, her crown slightly askew, her breathing shallow but measured. The roar of battle outside still thundered through the cracked walls. She could feel the chaos clawing at the edges of her focus, but she couldn’t afford to flinch.

Before her, Knox bled from a gash on his temple, his chest rising and falling with rage. "You think you’ve won, don’t you?" he hissed, voice barely above a whisper.

"No," Cambria replied coldly. "I think we’ve both lost too much already."

Behind her, Evelyn flanked the throne, her fingers curled tightly around a vial of red-gold serum Pandora’s lifeblood. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty. She had led a faction of the perfected weapons to rebel against Knox’s corrupted line, but the cost had been catastrophic.

"Don’t let him talk," Evelyn said. "We have to end this now."

But Cambria hesitated. Her sword, engraved with her mother’s final will, hung heavy in her hand. "What will ending him truly bring? Closure? Peace? No. Just another body on this cursed throne."

Knox smirked, wiping the blood from his mouth. "So you still think like a child." He rose slowly, ignoring Evelyn’s blade aimed at his heart. "You’re afraid to rule, Cambria. Just like your mother was."

At the mention of Seraphine Vale, Cambria’s gaze hardened.