CHAPTER 71: CHAPTER 72 – ASHES ON THE THRONE

📜 Recap – Chapter 71: The Blade Between Us

The tension between Kai and Lyra reached a fever pitch as blades clashed in the rain-soaked courtyard, every strike laced with unspoken words and buried emotions. Lyra’s eyes, usually so guarded, burned with a mix of fury and grief, each movement betraying the conflict raging within her. Kai, torn between defending himself and protecting her from the truth, fought with a precision that felt more like restraint than intent to kill.

But their duel was more than steel on steel—it was years of betrayal, guilt, and unresolved feelings erupting into a violent dance. The storm above mirrored the chaos below, lightning flashing to reveal the trembling in Lyra’s hands and the shadows under Kai’s eyes. Then, in one heart-stopping moment, their blades locked, faces inches apart, breaths mingling with rain. Lyra whispered a name—one Kai thought he’d buried forever.

That single word shattered his focus. She pressed the attack, driving him back until his back hit the cold stone wall. And then... she stopped. Lowering her sword, her voice was barely a whisper: "You’ve been lying to me since the beginning."

Before Kai could speak, Velis appeared, her presence slicing through the tension like a fresh blade. The moment broke, and Lyra turned away, disappearing into the storm, leaving Kai with a truth he wasn’t ready to face—and a war he could no longer avoid.

Chapter 72 – Ashes on the Throne

The rain had stopped hours ago, but the city hadn’t washed clean.

Water clung to the cobblestones in fractured puddles, each reflecting the pale, watery light of a reluctant dawn. The gutters ran pink where blood had mixed with runoff, and every alley seemed to hold the ghost of a scream that had been swallowed by the storm.

Kai walked through the hushed streets like a shadow passing through a graveyard. The air was heavy—too heavy for morning—and every whisper seemed to brush against his ear, carrying the same poisonous words:

"Royal kill order."

"The Queen wants him dead."

"His name is etched in the palace records now."

He kept moving. Not too fast, not too slow. The sort of pace that didn’t draw attention but didn’t invite anyone to stop him, either. His boots splashed through shallow water, and the sound felt too loud in the tense silence.

By the time he reached the narrow market square, a palace guard was already waiting for him. The man’s polished armor caught the early light, and his hand rested casually—but not harmlessly—on the hilt of his sword.

"Kai Ashura," the guard said, his voice carrying authority like a blade carries an edge. "You are summoned to the palace. Immediately."

There was no mistaking the undertone.

It wasn’t an invitation.

It was an order.

Kai’s first thought was execution.

His second was—why not just kill me in the street?

The guard didn’t elaborate, and Kai didn’t ask. Instead, he gave a small, humorless smile. "Lead the way."

The Walk to the Palace

The climb toward the palace gates felt like walking toward the mouth of a sleeping beast—its teeth hidden, but ready. The sprawling marble steps gleamed wet under his boots. Above, the banners of the crown hung heavy with rainwater, their crimson fabric darkened to near-black.

At the top of the steps, the throne room doors yawned open like a promise or a threat.

And there she was.

Lyra.

She stood to the right of the throne, dressed in deep violet silk trimmed with gold. The Queen’s sigil was embroidered along her shoulder in intricate thread, declaring her allegiance for all to see. Her hair was swept into a regal twist, her posture a lesson in calculated poise.

Her lips curved in that half-smile he knew too well—the kind that said she’d already read the next five moves on the board. The kind that made every instinct in his body brace for the cut he wouldn’t see coming.

For a second, her gaze met his across the distance.

Cold. Assessing. Dangerous.

Then she turned back to the Queen, as though he were nothing more than a curiosity passing through her peripheral vision.

The War Table

Before the throne, Velis and Astra stood on opposite sides of the long war table, the map between them a battlefield of miniature flags and inked routes.

Velis’s eyes caught Kai’s first. The warning there was sharp enough to cut. "If you step into that throne room, you won’t walk out."

Astra, leaning casually against the table’s edge, smirked. "Or," she countered, "he walks in and turns the Queen’s paranoia into our weapon. Think bigger, Velis."

Kai’s gaze dropped to the corner of the table. There, half-hidden beneath a stack of scrolls, lay a single sealed letter.

The wax seal was unbroken.

The handwriting on the front stopped his heart for a beat.

It was handwriting he hadn’t seen since the day his world burned. The day smoke swallowed the sky, and everything he had left was taken from him.

The Choice

Velis leaned closer, speaking low. "You don’t have to go in there, Kai. We can vanish before nightfall."

Astra’s smirk deepened. "Or you can walk in there, play their game, and set the board on fire from the inside."

Kai let his fingers rest briefly on the letter. He didn’t open it—not yet.

His pulse was steady, but the decision wasn’t survival anymore.

It was about control.

About who would burn first.

He stepped past Velis without a word, toward the yawning throne room doors.

[To be continued...]

Bonus Scene – The Queen’s Right Hand

Lyra stood at the Queen’s right side, her posture immaculate, her face carved into perfect composure. Every inch of her appearance—from the precise coil of her hair to the gleam of her gold-trimmed sleeves—was a weapon in itself. Appearances could kill as surely as steel, and in the palace, the sharpest blade was a smile.

She did not move when the throne room doors opened. But her eyes, sharp as glass, followed the man who walked in.

Kai Ashura.

The name alone had become a quiet storm in the palace halls. Servants whispered it. Advisors muttered it under their breath. Soldiers repeated it with both disdain and respect. And now, here he was—summoned not for execution, but for something far more dangerous: the Queen’s curiosity.

Lyra studied him as he crossed the room. The way he carried himself was telling—measured, deliberate, as if every step was an agreement he hadn’t yet signed. His eyes swept the room without lingering too long on any one figure, but she noticed the slight pause when they found hers.

She let her lips curl into that half-smile she knew he hated.

It wasn’t mockery. It wasn’t welcome.

It was a reminder.

They had played this game before, in alleys where shadows were their only audience and blades were the language of negotiation. But this was her board now, her Queen, her rules.

The Queen’s voice cut through the silence. "Kai Ashura. Step forward."

Lyra’s gaze did not waver as he obeyed. She could almost hear the weight of the decision pressing against him. If he moved carelessly, he would be swallowed whole. But if he played it well...

A small, unspoken thrill passed through her.

The best games were the ones where both players knew they might not survive the end.

Next Chapter Preview – "The Trap in Velvet"

The Queen’s court has always been dangerous, but tonight, the danger has teeth.

Kai stands before the throne, his name still wet with fresh ink on the royal kill order—yet the Queen smiles as though she’s offering him a gift.

A banquet is announced in his honor. The entire court will attend. Velis warns that such gatherings have a history of ending with blood spilled on the marble. Astra insists it’s an opportunity to plant seeds of discord among the nobles.

But Lyra? She leans close enough for Kai to hear her whisper, the heat of her breath colder than steel.

"One wrong step, Ashura... and I’ll be the one to end you."

Across the room, masked figures slip in through the servants’ corridors. The Queen’s fingers drum lightly on her armrest, as if keeping time with a countdown only she knows.

The question isn’t if the trap will spring—

...it’s who it will catch first.

As Kai left the council chamber, the torchlight flickered strangely—shadows lengthening in shapes that didn’t match their owners. Somewhere beyond the stone archway, a soft laugh echoed, too close to be coincidence. His hand tightened on the dagger at his belt. The palace walls were already whispering his name.

⚔️ Another trap. Another smile. Another promise of blood.

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The war for the throne has only just begun—

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