The Empire had failed.
The walls of Dara still stood.
The siege engines had been destroyed, and thousands of soldiers had fallen without opening a breach.
For the first time in decades, the Empire had bled.
From the observation tower, Naira gazed across the battlefield.
In the distance, the black banner of the Douglas still fluttered in the wind.
"We underestimated this kingdom..."
Beside her, a man in a gray robe studied the map.
"The first battle has shown us their defenses. We can reorganize and begin the real siege in a week."
Naira pointed toward the right flank.
"And the Douglas?"
The man remained silent for a moment.
"They're a problem."
"Why?"
"Because they don't break."
He moved several pieces across the map.
"When one soldier falls, another takes his place. When a flank comes under pressure, the ranks don't retreat. They leave no gaps."
Naira looked at the black banner.
"And fear?"
"They have it. But they don't let it control their movements."
Naira remembered Laurence.
His sword.
His armor.
The way he had cut through the Imperial lines without wasting a single movement.
Then she understood.
"We're not fighting individuals."
"No, Your Highness."
The man swallowed.
"We're fighting a single formation."
Naira looked back at the battlefield.
"And Laurence?"
"He is its pillar."
A small smile appeared on the princess's lips.
"Then I don't want their soldiers killed."
She took three pieces from the map and placed them in front of the Douglas flank.
"I want the formation broken."
The man's eyes widened slightly.
"Three generals?"
"Level eighty."
"That will weaken other sectors."
Naira did not hesitate.
"It doesn't matter."
Her eyes fixed on the black banner.
"As long as the Douglas remain intact, the rest of the battle is meaningless."
The assistant bowed his head.
"As you command."
Naira turned her gaze back toward Dara.
One week.
That was all the Empire needed.
One week to recover its strength.
Then the real siege would begin.
"This kingdom is not weak," Naira murmured. "But it isn't invincible either."
Her lips curved into a small smile.
In one week, she would claim her first great victory.
The Empire would tremble at her name once again.
Perhaps then they would stop calling her princess.
Naira the Conqueror.
Or, one day...
Naira, the Supreme Empress.
Far from the battlefield, steam slowly rose from the white marble bathtub.
The scent of healing herbs filled the room with a warm, relaxing fragrance.
Lusian reclined with his eyes closed while Isabella carefully massaged his shoulders.
Her hands were trembling.
"I-I'm sorry, my lord..." she murmured for the third time. "I shouldn't have mixed the healing herbs with the tea... or entered without announcing myself."
Lusian slowly exhaled.
He had lost count of how many times she had apologized that afternoon.
Ever since Isabella had been assigned as his personal maid, small accidents had become a regular occurrence.
Water that was too hot.
Clothes folded incorrectly.
Tea that was too bitter.
Herbs mixed in the wrong order.
None of it was truly serious.
But for someone serving the Douglas household, even a minor mistake could be considered disrespectful.
And Isabella seemed to feel the weight of every single one.
Lusian opened his eyes and glanced at her.
He couldn't blame her.
She had never done anything like this before.
She had grown up as the daughter of a count, surrounded by servants, banquets, and private tutors.
Now she had to learn how to serve someone else.
And not just anyone.
Lusian Douglas.
The heir of the family that, one way or another, had become the center of all her problems.
"That's enough for today, Isabella."
The young woman immediately stopped.
"My lord?"
"That's enough."
Lusian slowly sat up.
"You don't have to apologize for every little mistake."
Isabella lowered her gaze.
"But I have to do it properly."
"Why?"
She took several seconds to answer.
"Because I made a vow."
Lusian fell silent.
The memory of the vow before Sagmus returned to his mind.
Isabella had sworn to serve the Douglas household with her own life.
It was not a simple promise.
Divine magic had sealed the oath.
If she broke it, the curse would slowly destroy her body until it eventually killed her.
And all of it had happened because her family needed to survive.
Lusian slightly clenched his fingers.
This shouldn't be like this.
He had never wanted a maid.
Much less someone forced into the position by circumstances.
But he also couldn't ignore what would have happened if he had rejected the agreement.
The Armett family would have been destroyed.
Isabella would have died.
And so would her siblings.
That was why he had accepted.
Not because he wanted her in his service.
But because it was the only way he had found to keep them alive.
"Isabella."
"Yes, my lord?"
"You don't need to prove anything to me."
She slowly raised her eyes.
"As long as you fulfill your oath, I won't punish you for making mistakes."
Isabella looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Really."
A small smile appeared on the young woman's face.
"Thank you, my lord."
Lusian nodded.
"Now go get some rest."
"But the bath..."
"I can finish it myself."
"No, my lord. It's my responsibility."
Lusian sighed.
"All right. But stop trembling."
Isabella tried to hold back a smile.
"I'll try."
She turned to prepare everything.
Everything seemed to be under control.
Until Isabella suddenly froze.
"The... the towel."
Lusian opened one eye.
"What is it?"
"I forgot to bring it."
Isabella went pale.
"I'll get it."
"Isabella, wait—"
Too late.
The young woman turned around quickly.
Her foot caught the edge of the bucket.
"Ah!"
She lost her balance.
Lusian barely had time to sit up before he heard a massive SPLASH!
Isabella fell straight into the bathtub.
Water splashed across the entire room.
For several seconds, neither of them said a word.
Isabella slowly emerged.
Her hair was completely soaked, and several drops of water ran down her face.
Her white dress clung to her body.
Her face immediately turned bright red.
"I..."
Lusian looked away.
"Are you all right?"
"Y-yes, my lord!"
Isabella tried to stand.
Her foot slipped.
She fell partially back into the bathtub.
"Ah!"
Lusian closed his eyes.
"Please..."
He put a hand over his face.
"Just get out before you end up drowning."
"Yes!"
Isabella finally managed to climb out of the bathtub.
She stood there completely soaked, her head lowered.
"I'm sorry..."
Lusian sighed.
"Don't apologize again."
"But..."
"It was an accident."
Isabella slowly raised her head.
Lusian was still looking away.
"Go change."
"Yes, my lord."
The young woman gave a small bow and hurried out of the room.
Once the door closed, Lusian remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he let out a long sigh.
Lusian remained silent after Isabella left the room.
The water in the bathtub moved slowly.
He had been thinking about the war, but the real problem was something else.
They were running out of time.
The census was already underway, and the population was beginning to concentrate in the major cities. Supplies were increasing, and the defenses were being prepared.
But everything was moving too slowly.
Far too slowly...
The war was consuming soldiers, resources, and time.
Lusian rested his head against the bathtub.
"What a waste of time..."
He didn't hate the Empire.
That war simply didn't seem all that important to him.
He knew the future.
He knew what was coming next.
Monsters. Cults. The Demon Queen.
Threats that would make this war seem insignificant.
"If only I could make everyone stop killing each other for a few months..."
He let out a small laugh.
"Though I suppose that would be asking too much."
He stood up.
He still had too much to prepare.
Censuses.
Food.
Shelters.
Defenses.
And, above all, he needed to figure out how much time he had left.
While everyone was looking toward Dara, Lusian was looking much farther ahead.
Because the real war had not even begun.