Chapter 1: The Attempt
The night the king almost died began with silence.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that waits.
Wind dragged across the palace spires of House Cael, carrying the scent of rain and iron. Torches flickered along the outer walls. Guards rotated.
Predictable.
That was their first mistake.
She moved through the shadows like she had been born from them.
Black cloak. Mask. Blade strapped to her thigh.
Vireya Solis did not hesitate.
She had waited ten years for this moment.
Ten years since House Solareth burned.
Ten years since she watched her father kneel before soldiers wearing the crest of the crown.
Ten years since she heard her mother scream.
Tonight, "the king would bleed".
Inside the royal wing—
King Riven Cael stood alone on the balcony of his chamber.
No guards.
He preferred it that way.
His gaze scanned the dark courtyard below.
He sensed it before he heard it.
A shift in the air.
A presence.
He did not turn immediately.
"Interesting"
"Very interesting"
She slipped through the final window silently.
He still hadn’t moved.
She stepped forward
slowly.
One step at a time to get close enough and then she lunges.
The blade flashed toward his throat.
Steel met steel.
In one fluid motion, he caught her wrist and twisted.
The dagger clattered to the floor.
She didn’t scream.
He turned then.
And their eyes met.
Dark fury clashed with cold calculation.
“You’re either very brave,” Riven said calmly, tightening his grip, “or very foolish.”
She drove her knee toward him.
He blocked it.
She twisted, nearly breaking free.
Fast, Impressively fast.
But he was faster.
He slammed her against the stone pillar.
Not brutal.
Controlled.
Dominant.
“Who sent you?” he asked.
Silence.
She spat at his feet.
“No one sends me.”
His grip shifted slightly.
“Remove the mask.”
She refused.
So he did it himself.
The fabric fell away.
And for a fraction of a second—
Something flickered in his eyes.
Not recognition.
But something else.
Her jaw tightened.
“Do it,” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“Kill me like you killed the rest of my family.”
The air changed.
"Family?".
Interesting choice of words for an "Assassin".
“And which family would that be?” he asked evenly.
Her voice burned.
“House Solareth.”
Silence fell heavy between them.
Outside, thunder cracked.
Riven’s expression did not change.
But his grip loosened — just slightly.
“You chose the worng target,” he said.
She smiled coldly.
“No, Your Majesty,” she said.
Her hidden blade slid from her sleeve.
“This time I won't miss.”
She lunged again—
And the doors burst open.
Guards flooded in.
But,Riven had already disarmed her.
Pinned her to the floor.
His knee at her back.
Her wrist twisted.
Unbreakable hold.
She struggled.
He leaned down close to her ear.
“If I wanted you dead,” he murmured quietly, “you would not have reached the balcony.”
The words weren’t a threat.
They were fact.
Chains were brought.
She did not beg ,nor did she cried.
As they dragged her away, she lifted her head one last time.
“I will kill you,” she promised.
Riven watched her go.
Unmoved.
Unshaken.
But thoughtful.
Because assassins do not speak of houses long buried.
And House Solareth…
Was supposed to have no survivors.
End....Next Chapter 2: The Ashes Of The Sun...
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