Chapter 3
The generals who had once fought alongside me stepped forward one by one.
"I pledge to follow General Quinn, even if it costs me my life!" one of them declared.
"I pledge myself as well!" another echoed.
At last, hope flickered in the emperor's eyes.
He rose, stepped down from the Obsidian Throne, and personally helped me to my feet.
"Brianna, if I hand the command of all three armies to you... how much chance do you have?" His Majesty asked.
I met his gaze, speaking each word with unwavering resolve.
"The invaders will not retreat, and Brianna will not return." I declared.
"Good!" the emperor roared.
"Announce my decree!" he declared.
"Brianna is hereby appointed Warden of the Northern Marches, to command all three armies and march at once!"
"I bestow upon her the Regent's Blade, to act in my stead!"
The chief eunuch's voice rang out, echoing the imperial decree through the hall.
I accepted the heavy seal of command, its icy weight pressing into my palm.
Everything that belonged to me was finally mine again.
With everything finally returned to me, I turned to leave.
But Silas grabbed my arm, refusing to let go.
His eyes were bloodshot, wild with fear.
"Brianna, you can't go. It's too dangerous..." Silas begged, his voice trembling.
"You know this isn't up for discussion," I said, my voice cold and unyielding.
I fixed him with a cold stare.
"Silas, let go."
"I won't! You're my wife!" he roared.
Wife?
In his eyes, I was worth less than a single hair on Liora's head.
I snapped on my gauntlets, the metal ringing sharply.
"Yeah," I said, my voice cold.
I looked at his deathly pale face and smiled.
"I should've lost my mind ages ago."
I forced his fingers off her arm, inch by inch.
Silas's grip was fierce, his knuckles bone-white from strain.
But in front of me, he was powerless to stop her.
Without a backward glance, I strode out of the Obsidian Throne.
Behind me, Silas's desperate shout echoed through the hall.
"Brianna, !"
The sunlight felt warm on my skin.
After three years, I finally shattered the cage with my own hands.
I didn't go back to the Chancellor's Manse.
That wasn't my home.
It was nothing but a gilded cage Silas built for Liora, his precious canary.
My carriage rolled straight toward the west side of the city.
There stood a mansion, untouched for three years, its silence heavy with memories.
Ironhold, the roots of the Quinn family.
The gates were shut tight, the red paint on the stone lions chipped and faded.
A thin layer of dust blanketed the plaque above the door.
I climbed down from the carriage and, with my own hands, pushed open those heavy gates.
"Creak, "
The drawn-out sound lingered, like it was waking some ancient beast from its sleep.
Sunlight poured in, lighting up the dust that danced in the air.
The courtyard was swallowed by wild weeds, nothing but emptiness all around.
But I could see it all before me.
I could see my father's silhouette, brandishing his spear right here.
I could see the sweat I shed as a young girl on these training grounds.
This was home. This was where I belonged.
"General!"
An aged, excited voice rang out from deep within the mansion.
It was Harkon, the housekeeper.
He'd served the Quinns for three generations.
He nearly stumbled as he hurried out, lantern in hand, his cloudy old eyes shining with tears.
"General, you... you've finally come home!" he called out, his voice trembling with emotion.
Behind him trailed a handful of loyal retainers, dressed in plain, worn clothes.
They were my father's old personal guards, who had remained here after being wounded and forced to retire.
For three years, they had guarded this silent, empty home.
They had waited for their rightful mistress to return.
I looked at them, at the fire that never faded from their eyes.
Warmth flooded my heart.
"I'm back." My voice was quiet, but every word rang with authority.
"Relay my orders.
"Clean the mansion, shine up the armor, and raise the banner of House Quinn high!"
"Yes, General!"
Harkon straightened his back, his voice booming like a bell.
He looked twenty years younger.
The whole Ironhold came alive in an instant.
The dusty armory was thrown open, and rows of spears gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
The great black dragon banner, embroidered with the word "Quinn," was raised once more, snapping proudly in the wind.
I donned the silver armor I'd worn three years ago.
The cold metal hugged my body, and that familiar weight sent my blood boiling.
I stood in the center of the training grounds, eyes closed.
All around me, the ring of swords being drawn filled the air.
The neighs of warhorses rang in my ears.
An army of thousands surged toward me, their thunderous hooves and battle cries echoing in my ears.
"Brianna!" An angry, barely restrained voice shattered my reverie.
I opened my eyes.
Silas stood a short distance away, dressed in simple attire. His face was ghostly pale, and there was a panic in his eyes that was utterly foreign to me.
He closed the distance, each step heavy with pressure.
"You're coming with me," Silas ordered, not giving me a chance to refuse.
That was the same imperious demeanor he always wore as Chancellor.
But he was no longer facing the Brianna who used to obey his every word.
"Back where?" I asked, my tone cool and distant.
"The Chancellor's Manse. Our home," Silas insisted, as if the words could make it true.
"Home?" I scoffed. "Silas, this is my home.
"As for you? Maybe your real home is in that den of comfort, with your precious dancer Liora."
Silas recoiled, like he'd been hit square in the chest.
"You... you found out?" he choked, panic flooding his voice.
"Yeah."
I looked at him coldly. "The painting's beautiful. So is she."
"That white jade hairpin you gave her? It really suits her."
Silas's lips parted and closed, struggling to speak, but not a single word escaped.
For the first time, real regret and anguish showed in his eyes.
"Brianna, I..." he began, voice shaky.
"Don't bother," I cut him off.