Crownless Queen

Dawn broke with a whisper—not a roar.

Mist hung over the trees like a veil as Seraphina stirred beside the fading campfire. Her limbs were stiff, her cloak damp with dew. Sleep had come in brief, broken waves, haunted by memories that felt more like nightmares. Screams. Fire. The echo of her mother's final words.

Kael was already awake. He stood at the edge of the riverbank, sharpening his sword with slow, precise strokes. The rhythmic scrape of steel on stone blended with the morning wind.

Seraphina rose and approached him, brushing leaves from her skirt.

"You didn't sleep?" she asked.

"I don't sleep much anymore," he replied without looking up.

She didn't push. Kael never offered more than what he deemed necessary. A man like that didn't rest—he watched, waited, endured.

They crossed the river on foot, Kael leading the way across the narrow fallen tree. Below, the current flowed cold and fast, but Seraphina's footing held. She reached the far side with a quiet sense of triumph. A small win, but a win nonetheless.

Kael glanced back. "Not bad for a girl raised in silk."

"I had a governess who believed in combat lessons," she said, smirking faintly. "My mother didn't approve."

"Then your governess was smarter than your mother."

The smirk vanished.

"She died trying to save me," Seraphina snapped.

Kael didn't flinch. "And I respect that. But protecting you with swords would've been easier than hiding you with lies."

She wanted to argue—but didn't. Because deep down, part of her agreed.

By midmorning, they reached the outskirts of a ruined village. The stone walls were crumbling, roofs collapsed, windows shattered. Ivy crawled over what remained of the buildings, as if nature itself was trying to forget what had happened here.

"What is this place?" Seraphina asked.

Kael's expression darkened. "Fenn's Hollow. Once a stronghold of the resistance. Your mother's banners flew here… before Malrec's Black Guard wiped them out."

She swallowed. "Is anyone left?"

Kael didn't answer. He only walked forward.

They passed the remnants of a well, a rusted bell, and scorched doorframes. Silence reigned—no birdsong, no breeze, only ghosts.

And then, from within one of the ruins, came movement.

Kael stopped abruptly. His hand went to his sword, eyes narrowing. Seraphina instinctively stepped back, her fingers tightening around the locket beneath her cloak.

An old woman emerged slowly from the shadows of a collapsed building. Her back was hunched, her skin weathered like worn leather, but her eyes—sharp and gray—locked onto Seraphina with alarming clarity.

"You bring trouble to old bones, boy," she rasped, looking at Kael.

"We need shelter," he replied. "She needs to rest."

The old woman turned to Seraphina, squinting. "She carries royal eyes… and royal danger."

Seraphina stepped forward. "You knew my family?"

"I served your family," the woman corrected. "My name is Maret. I stitched the Queen's battle cloak before the war began. And I buried her men after it ended."

Seraphina's voice trembled. "Then you know who I am."

Maret nodded. "You are Seraphina Althea Rhiannon—the last flame of a dying house."

Kael tensed. "Maret, don't—"

"She deserves to hear her name," the old woman snapped. "She should wear it like armor, not shame."

Seraphina felt the weight of her full name settle on her like a crown made of stone. Heavy. Unforgiving. But real.

"Do others still live?" she asked. "Loyal ones?"

Maret's gaze hardened. "A few. Scattered. In hiding. Afraid."

"I want to find them," Seraphina said. "I need to."

Maret sighed. "Then you need more than courage. You need coin, a horse, and allies that don't vanish with the wind."

Kael stepped forward. "We'll find them. But first, she needs rest and a map."

Maret looked between the two of them, then finally nodded.

"Fine. One night. No more."

As the sun set over the ruins, Seraphina sat alone on the broken wall of what had once been a tavern. The breeze carried the scent of ash and wildflowers.

She opened her locket and stared at her mother's painted face.

"I'm still running," she whispered. "But I swear—I'll stop. I'll fight. I'll wear my name again."

Behind her, Kael stood in silence, watching