Chapter 2
My voice was dead calm, like water that never moves.
"It's just a pendant. Lost it, so be it."
Silas froze for a moment, not expecting me to react this way.
In the past, I'd have asked a million questions, all anxious and worried.
He came over and tried to take my hand.
I stepped aside, avoiding his touch.
His hand hung awkwardly in the air, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes.
"Brianna, what's wrong?" Silas asked.
I looked up, meeting his gaze.
"Silas, aren't you tired?" I asked quietly.
He didn't say a word, just stared at me.
"Isn't it exhausting, being caught between two people every single day?" I pressed.
The air froze between us.
All the color drained from his face.
He tried to speak, his lips moving, but no words came out.
I laughed, a little cold.
"Looks like you're not tired after all," I said.
I stood up, not even glancing at him, and walked straight into the inner room.
"It's late. You should get some rest, Silas," I said.
"I'll sleep in the study."
That night, I slept more peacefully than I had in three years.
For the first time in three years, I didn't fall asleep waiting for him.
So this was what it felt like when one's heart finally died.
The next day, shocking news arrived from the frontier.
The barbarians of the Northern Marches had torn up the treaty and launched a full-scale invasion.
The frontier commanders fought valiantly, dying on the battlefield.
Three cities fell overnight.
The barbarian cavalry was bearing down on the Capital city.
When the news reached the Capital city, the whole empire was shaken, from the court to the common folk.
Scholars and generals alike were thrown into turmoil.
The emperor, furious, slammed his hand down on the imperial desk in the Obsidian Throne.
"Do these barbarians really think the Solarian Empire has no one left to fight?" he roared.
"Who! Who dares to lead my army into battle for me?"
Beneath the Obsidian Throne, not a single scholar or general dared to speak.
The old commanders who marched with my father through countless campaigns were either gone or too frail to fight.
The newly promoted ones were nothing but privileged sons, armchair strategists who only knew how to talk about war on paper.
They might manage to hold a city, at best.
But sending them against the wolf riders of the Northern Marches? That was like throwing eggs at a rock.
Silas stood at the forefront of the court, his brow tightly knit, silent as stone.
He was capable of governing the realm and keeping the empire steady.
But commanding armies and facing the enemy on the battlefield? That was beyond him.
The entire hall was eerily silent.
Only the emperor's ragged, heavy breathing echoed through the chamber.
Despair was spreading, hanging heavy over everyone.
At home, the maids whispered nervously, each worried about what might happen next.
I changed into a fitted battle attire, ready for whatever was coming.
Standing before the bronze mirror, I pulled my hair up into a tight knot.
The eyes that once softened only for Silas now held nothing but an icy, piercing edge.
Anne walked in, her eyes rimmed red.
"Ma'am, what are you doing?" Anne asked.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, and for a moment, I saw the bold, spirited young general I was three years ago, full of fire, ready to ride into battle.
The Quinn family's spear should never gather dust.
The Quinn family's spirit must never be broken.
"Anne," I called out.
"At your service, ma'am," she answered, her voice trembling.
"Fetch my silver spear," I said.
Anne stiffened, her face turning white as a sheet.
"Ma'am, you mustn't!" she cried, desperate.
Paying Anne no mind, I strode past her.
I walked straight out of the estate and climbed into the carriage without hesitation.
"To the palace," I ordered.
Inside the palace, at the Obsidian Throne, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
The oppressive atmosphere made it hard for anyone to even breathe.
The emperor sat atop the Obsidian Throne, his face stormy with anger.
The officials knelt across the floor, silent as winter cicadas, not daring to utter a word.
Just then, the attendant's voice rang out from outside the hall.
"Mrs. Schreiber, Brianna, requests an audience, "
The attendant's sharp voice sliced through the suffocating silence of the hall.
Everyone froze.
Even Silas was stunned.
Silas turned abruptly, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
With every eye on me, I walked steadily into the hall of the Obsidian Throne.
I wore simple palace robes, without a trace of makeup.
My posture was straighter than any man present.
Without glancing to either side, I strode past the kneeling officials and came to stand before the emperor.
Silas was kneeling at the very front. He reached out, as if to stop me, but his hand fell back, defeated and powerless.
I knelt before the emperor, offering a sharp, precise military salute.
"I, Brianna, wife of Silas, pay my respects, Your Majesty."
The emperor fixed his eyes on me, his expression complicated and hard to read.
There was surprise, a hint of appraisal, and, almost hidden, a flicker of hope.
"Brianna, what is your purpose here in the palace?" the emperor asked.
I raised my head; my voice wasn't loud, but it carried across the entire hall.
"It's about the frontier," I replied.
"The barbarians from the Northern Marches have invaded. Three cities have fallen, and the frontier is hanging by a thread."
"No one in the court has the guts to stand up and fight.
"I might not be the best, but I'm willing to take my father's place, take up the command, and shoulder this burden for Your Majesty!"
As soon as the words left my mouth, the whole hall exploded in chaos.
Everyone looked at me like I was completely out of my mind.
A woman, a noble lady who'd been sheltered in the inner chambers for three years, daring to make such a wild claim about taking up the command?
Silas's face went ghostly pale in an instant.
He grabbed my wrist, his voice trembling.
"Brianna, are you out of your mind?" he choked out.
I ignored him completely, keeping my eyes steady on the emperor.
Waiting for him to decide my fate.
A white-haired elder rose from the ranks.
He was the Grand Marshal, once my father's right-hand man.
Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Your Majesty! General Quinn is unmatched in the art of war, she carries the old general's mantle! Three years ago, it was her who led three thousand light cavalry in a daring strike against the barbarian royal court, winning the Solarian Empire three years of peace!
"Now, in this moment of peril, no one but General Quinn is fit to take up this responsibility!"
The Grand Marshal's words dropped like a bomb, shattering the calm and making everyone sit up in shock.