Lord William's fleet pushed on through restless waters, its sails swollen with sea wind, its hulls cutting steadily toward Ashford. Four days into the voyage, the coast finally rose in the distance, dark cliffs lifting from morning mist like a fortress born from the sea itself.
William stood at the front of the lead ship, one hand resting on the rail, his expression unreadable. He had spent most of the journey silent, turning possibilities over in his mind. He knew he was sailing not simply into enemy waters, but into the center of a wound. Men were most dangerous when pride had been cut.
And Ashford was bleeding. Far ahead, watch ships moved along the outer waters.
Ashford's sea warriors had already seen them. One of the commanders narrowed his eyes at the approaching banners.
"These are royal ships," he muttered. Another leaned closer. "The Rendell flag."
At once the mood shifted. Men straightened. Hands moved instinctively toward weapons. One of them spat overboard.
"They come for war."
But then the commander studied the ships again.
Something made him pause.
Beside the black and gold Rendell standards, white banners stirred in the wind.
Peace flags.
His expression hardened with suspicion. Not relief, but suspicion.
He turned sharply. "Go inform the Warden." A guard bowed at once and pulled his smaller boat away, rowing hard toward shore.
Then the commander faced his men again. "Hold your line." No one relaxed. Peace could hide sharper blades than war.
At the shore, the messenger leaped from boat to sand, mounted a horse waiting at the docks, and rode at full speed toward the keep.
Hooves thundered through Ashford. Dust rose behind him.
Inside the throne room, Lord Fabio sat in council surrounded by lords and captains. They had been discussing how to balance against Drexo after withdrawing support from his campaign. Maps lay open. Voices crossed in heated strategy.
Then the guard burst in. Dropped to one knee. Breathing hard.
Fabio's eyes narrowed at once. "Why do you look disorganized?" The guard fought for breath. "My lord."
He swallowed.
"The royal ships of Robert Rendell approach our territory." Fabio stood so abruptly his chair nearly overturned.
The hall reacted instantly. Councillors rose. Steel shifted. Some faces blanched. But the guard quickly lifted a hand. "They came only with ten ships."
A breath.
"And they carry white flags."
That changed the room. Not calm, but calculation. Lord Crieg exhaled first.
"My lord." His tone steadied the chamber. "It is nothing to panic about."
Fabio turned sharply. "And why is that?" His eyes flashed. "Robert and I have been enemies since this war began."
Crieg shook his head. "They come in peace." He stepped closer. "And peace at such a moment can mean only one thing."
Fabio studied him. "What?"
Crieg smiled thinly. "Negotiation." A murmur moved through the chamber.
Crieg continued. "They have heard what King Drexo did to Lady Friya."
His voice lowered. "They want to use it." Fabio's face hardened. "To make me switch sides."
Crieg inclined his head. Fabio's jaw flexed. "I may be angry with Drexo."
The room listened. "But I would never betray House Dragaria." There was old loyalty in those words.
Old blood. Old wars shared. Then he turned sharply. "Summon all warriors."
His voice rang. "I want them at the shore."
Lord Crieg bowed. "At once."
Within moments the keep was in motion. Armor buckled. Spears lifted. Horns sounded.
And Fabio himself moved for the seashore with his lords and a line of soldiers behind him. If peace had arrived, it would be received under watchful steel.
Meanwhile, at sea, William's fleet slowed. Ashford warships blocked the passage.
A floating wall.
No further movement. William stepped forward carrying a white flag in his hand.
The sea commander watched from his vessel. William raised his voice over the water. "I come in peace." His words carried.
"I seek only audience with your Warden." The commander studied him for a long while.
Then answered. "If I take you into the city…" His tone was iron. "You leave your guard at the shore."
William went silent.
Measured the demand. He had expected this. Then nodded. "I have no need to be afraid." Or perhaps he meant he had come too far to show fear.
The commander signaled. The blockade opened. Ashford's sea warriors escorted them inward. Their ships moved slowly toward shore.
And there, waiting on the sand like judgment itself, stood Lord Fabio. With lords beside him. And an army behind him.
Rows of spears. Steel flashing in the sun. No welcome feast.
No courtesy. Only power.
William stepped off the ship with the white flag still raised. His boots touched Ashford soil. And every eye followed him.
Fabio stepped forward first. His voice came cold. "You must have some nerve."
A paused.
"to come to Ashford." His gaze sharpened. "After you put a knife into my friend's heart."
The accusation hung heavy. William smiled. Not mockingly. Almost sadly. "You know I loved him too."
He let that sit. Then added. "But he was becoming mad with power."
Fabio said nothing. Because somewhere beneath anger, he knew the words were not wholly false.
And perhaps that irritated him more. Still he shook it off. "What are you doing in my kingdom?"
No warmth. No patience. William answered without hesitation. "I heard Drexo broke his alliance with your daughter."
Fabio's jaw tightened at once. "How is that your concern?" The words nearly growled.
William stepped closer. Careful, and measured. "I am here."
He let the moment breathe. "To return what you have lost."
Confusion flickered across Fabio's face. The anger did not leave. But it shifted. "What do you mean?"
William smiled. He laid the bait. "King Robert Rendell." His voice carried like a proclamation. "First of his name."
Even Ashford men leaned in. "has demanded the hand of Lady Friya Kenwool in marriage."
Silence.
Pure, and sharp.
Even the sea wind seemed to pause.
Fabio stared, unblinking. William stepped nearer still. "Your daughter can still be queen of the Nine Kingdoms."
Each word was deliberate. Each word crafted to wound Drexo through temptation. "This time."
He lowered his voice. "Not to Drexo."
A beat.
"But to King Robert." Then the final cut. "The one true king of Astarous." The words landed like a thrown gauntlet.
No one moved. No one breathed. And in that silence, alliances began to tremble.