Chapter 96 – Beneath the Crimson Sky
Morning broke over the southern camp with the shrill cries of hawks and the distant rumble of drills. The scent of damp earth and ashes hung in the air. Soldiers moved in formation, blades clashing against shields as they practiced—readying themselves for whatever was to come.
Inside the command tent, the world felt quieter, softer.
Zara stirred beneath the furs, blinking slowly as sunlight trickled through the tent's narrow seams. Her head rested on Lucien's chest, her fingers lazily tracing the lines of a faded scar that curved just below his collarbone.
"You're awake," he murmured without opening his eyes.
She smiled. "I've been awake. Just listening to you breathe."
Lucien cracked one eye open, teasing. "Creepy."
She gave his chest a light smack. "Romantic."
He chuckled, pulling her closer. "I dreamed of this. You, here. Waking up beside me."
Zara sat up slightly, wrapping the furs around her. "It's not a dream. I'm really here."
Lucien's face sobered. "But not for long. The council won't approve of you staying in a war camp."
Zara met his gaze. "I didn't come for their approval."
"You came for me," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "And now I don't know how to let you go again."
---
By midmorning, Zara dressed in a more practical tunic and trousers borrowed from one of the healers. She braided her hair tightly and tied it at the nape of her neck. Several soldiers stared as she stepped out of Lucien's tent—not out of disrespect, but in awe.
She didn't look like a sheltered princess anymore.
She looked like someone who belonged.
Lucien was already at the center of the camp, sword in hand, barking instructions to a squad of new recruits.
"Form tight ranks!" he called. "Don't swing like you're chopping firewood—strike to disable, not just to kill!"
He spotted Zara and gave a half-smile.
She waited until the drill ended before approaching.
"How do they look?" she asked.
Lucien handed his sword to a page and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Better than the last batch. Still green, though. If the border flares up again, they'll be tested quickly."
Zara glanced toward the edge of the camp, where smoke curled beyond the trees. "How close are the enemy lines?"
Lucien's jaw clenched. "Too close. Yesterday we caught a scout. He tried to pass off as a merchant."
"What happened to him?"
"He's in holding." Lucien glanced at her. "I didn't interrogate him. Thought you might want to see for yourself what we're up against."
Zara blinked. "You want me there?"
"I want your eyes on everything. You're not just my wife anymore, Zara. You're part of this."
---
The prisoner was held in a small makeshift cell near the edge of camp. It was nothing more than a wooden cage reinforced with iron chains, guarded by two men and covered by a canvas sheet.
Lucien motioned the guards aside and stepped in with Zara close behind him.
The man inside was lean, with sharp features and cold eyes. Dirt stained his tunic, and a small cut bled from his lip.
He looked up at them and grinned.
"Well, well. Royalty visits the rats today."
Lucien didn't flinch. "Name."
The man spat at his feet. "You first."
Zara stepped forward. "You crossed our border. You wore a merchant's tunic. You could've killed dozens of innocents. Speak plainly—or the rope does the talking."
The prisoner's smirk faltered. "Didn't think the little bride had fangs."
Lucien raised a brow. "She has more than that."
The man shrugged. "You're wasting time. You can hang me if you want. But others will follow. The Black Thorn doesn't stop."
Zara froze. "The Black Thorn?"
Lucien stiffened. "You've heard that name?"
She nodded. "They're mercenaries. Paid by foreign kings. They don't fight for land or honor—only coin."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "So the rebellion has hired them."
Zara turned to the prisoner. "What's your price, then? What are they paying you to burn our homes and slaughter our people?"
The man's smile returned. "Enough to keep going, even if I die here."
Lucien signaled the guards. "Take him away. No more food. He can sit in the dark until his tongue loosens."
---
Back in the command tent, Zara and Lucien sat over a map.
"They've brought in the Black Thorn," Lucien muttered. "That changes everything."
"They fight dirty," Zara said. "Poisons, firebombs, night raids. No loyalty."
Lucien rubbed his temples. "We need to warn the central post. And we'll need a new strategy. Our defenses weren't built for mercenaries."
Zara leaned over the map. "What if we didn't wait for them to strike?"
Lucien looked at her, surprised. "You want to take the offensive?"
"I want to end this before it grows bigger. Cut the vine before it chokes the tree."
Lucien stared at her for a moment, then smiled. "You've been spending too much time with generals."
"Or maybe I've just stopped being afraid."
---
That night, a storm rolled over the camp.
Thunder cracked above as rain began to fall in heavy sheets, drenching the tents and turning the earth into mud. But inside Lucien's command tent, it was warm—lit by lanterns and filled with quiet resolve.
Zara stood by the entrance, watching the rain.
Lucien stepped up behind her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.
"Still want to go back to the palace?" he asked softly.
She shook her head. "This is where I belong."
Lucien turned her toward him, cupping her face. "When this is over, I want to take you far from all this. No crowns. No borders. Just us."
Zara smiled up at him. "And maybe a cottage by the river."
"And no more generals pounding at the door."
They kissed then, slow and deep, as the storm raged on outside.
But inside the tent, there was peace.
---
End of Chapter 96