Chapter 24 — Defeat Report and the Princess’s Miscalculation

Part 1 — Exile, Then Saving the Nation

Discord: https://discord.com/invite/asmotoon

The North Hawk Knight Order lost.

The news hit the castle like a slap. No one had predicted it—not even me.

The only defeat in living memory happened when I was a child, a half-forgotten tale until the court scribe muttered it today. We all grew up believing the North Hawk were invincible. And now they’d fallen to barbarians.

The new commander, Gilbert, knelt before Father in the throne room, arm in a sling.

“We failed, Your Majesty. I beg for a chance to wipe away this shame,” he said.

Pathetic. Nothing uglier than a grown man groveling.

Father sighed. “It is unfortunate, but the enemy used tactics we did not expect. Even the wisest misjudge at times. Heal your wounds and prepare for the next campaign.”

Soft. He should punish this embarrassment.

“Your mercy humbles me,” Gilbert said. “I swear I will not fail you again.”

Good luck with that; fail twice and you’ll be headless.

Maybe Patrick should lead instead. My fiancé would shine on the battlefield. Once everyone saw his brilliance, even my sisters couldn’t complain.

I glanced at them. As usual, my elder siblings watched with that infuriating calm.

Then Father’s tone sharpened. “You said someone refused, Gilbert. Explain.”

I’d tuned out; apparently he’d been talking about reinforcements. Refused… who?

He nodded to a steward, who delivered a scrap of parchment. Father squinted and read aloud. “‘You spurned Warrena, so don’t expect my aid. Count your dying embers each night.’” His eyes widened. “Chloe?”

“Yes. The guardian dragon rejected our request because of the treatment of former commander Warrena. We lacked air support, and the ambush overwhelmed us,” Gilbert said.

Of course. Even the dragon mourned that stick-in-the-mud.

Father waved him off. “You’re dismissed. Rest.”

The heavy doors closed, and silence followed—until I clapped my hands. “Well, that killed the mood. Let’s throw a party! We’ll call it a ‘Strategic Relocation Gala’ and convince everyone we meant to retreat.”

“Tarin,” Father said warningly.

“Invite the nobles. If we keep them drunk, they won’t notice failure. We can even send Patrick to lead the next expedition—”

“Enough!”

His glare actually made my heart lurch. “This isn’t a stage for your silly plays. Go to your chambers.”

I bit back a retort. My sisters hid smiles behind their fans. Infuriating.

“Remember, Tarin,” Father added, voice cold, “you bear responsibility for all of this.”

“How?” I hissed once I was out of earshot. No answer.

Stomping down the corridor, I cursed. Warrena this, Warrena that. If that hulking bore hadn’t left, we’d still have the dragon. He must have told Chloe to ignore us.

Dragons are just oversized lizards anyway. I bet the knight order made the whole story up to excuse their failure.

Fine. Patrick will fix it. I’ll speak to him tonight.

***

That night, stabbing cramps doubled me over. Fear spiked as warmth trickled down my thighs.

I summoned the court physician. He took my pulse, murmured spells, and finally said, “It appears the child is in grave danger.”

“No! The baby…”

“Rest. I’ll leave medicine.”

I seized his sleeve. “You’ll tell no one.”

He hesitated, then bowed and left. I dismissed my maids. Alone, I stared up at the canopy.

If the baby died, Patrick might leave me. I wouldn’t let that happen.

By morning, I summoned the chief steward. “Prepare the paperwork,” I said, voice steady.

If fate wouldn’t give me a child, I’d make sure the court believed otherwise. Whatever it took to keep Patrick, I’d do it—even if it meant forging the future myself.

----- End of chapter -----