Ronan arrived at the village atop his horse, Bluelight, a handful of his men—including Travis—riding behind him.
The stench of smoke and death filled the air, thick and suffocating. His sharp eyes swept over the destruction before him.
Burnt houses reduced to charred skeletons.
Bodies—men, women, even children—strewn across the ground.
Mothers wailing, clutching their lifeless kin.
Orphans staring into nothingness, their innocence stolen overnight.
Ronan clenched his jaw, rage bubbling beneath his calm exterior. For over a decade, there had been peace. He had ensured it. He had bled for it.
And now this.
Whoever was responsible would pay.
Travis approached, his expression grim. "There are a few survivors who saw the attackers. I'll get their statements. We'll find out who did this."
Before Ronan could respond, a fragile voice reached him.
"Your Majesty."
He turned.
A little girl stood there, barely five years old, trembling, a gash bleeding at her temple. Her brown eyes—wide, tear-filled—held something that cracked through his armour.
She looked innocent and terribly afraid.
Ronan knelt beside her, his chest tightening.
"Where are your parents, little one?" he asked, his voice softer than he thought possible.
The girl pointed to the smoldering ruins of what had once been a home.
Ronan swallowed, his anger sharpening into something lethal.
Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her tiny frame against his chest.
"I want the ones responsible found and brought to me," he ordered, his voice low and deadly. "I want them alive. Every last one of them will die by my sword."
Travis nodded.
Ronan mounted Bluelight, the little girl still in his arms. He wouldn't leave her here. Not like this. He knew what it was to be orphaned young, to be left alone in a world that only knew cruelty. He wouldn't let her suffer the same fate.
Not while he had the power to stop it.
---
When Ronan returned to the castle, he was met with an unexpected sight.
Selene stood outside, surrounded by her maids, her emerald eyes filled with concern.
She stepped forward as he carefully dismounted, her gaze locking onto the child in his arms.
"Gods..." she breathed. "How bad was it?"
Ronan exhaled sharply. "Not a sight you'd ever want to see."
Selene's gaze softened as she studied the little girl. "And who is she?"
"An orphan now," Ronan said simply. "Her parents didn't make it."
Selene's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind her eyes.
How ironic.
He had burned down her home. Killed her father. Left her orphaned. Nearly took her life.
And now here he was, playing savior.
A hypocrite.
But she smiled. "You have a good heart, Your Majesty."
Ronan said nothing.
Instead, he motioned for a maid. "Clean her up. Feed her. Take her to the physician. Make sure she's alright."
The little girl clung to him for a moment before hesitantly letting go, allowing herself to be carried away.
Selene watched Ronan closely. He actually looked like he cared. What great acting.
"We should go back inside," he said, extending a hand to her.
Selene hesitated for only a moment before placing her hand in his. His palm was warm, his grip firm yet gentle.
Once inside, she wasted no time.
"Do you know who was responsible for today's massacre?" Selene asked. She knew it wouldn't be the faction. Her people were far too disciplined and calculated to resort to mindless bloodshed just to get under Ronan's skin.
Ronan exhaled sharply. "Not yet. But we will soon."
Selene crossed her arms. "And the people? They'll need food, water, medicine."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it was replaced by something softer. Admiration, perhaps? "I'll send out aid."
"I'll go with them."
Ronan's jaw tightened. "No. You are the Queen. Your place is here in the castle."
Selene's lips pressed into a thin line. "Just days ago, I stood before those people and swore I would be there for them. I will not break that promise." She took a step closer, her emerald eyes unwavering. "You may not know this, but I am highly skilled in medicine. I can tend to the injured. I want to help."
Ronan studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, he shook his head. "It's not ideal. I can't allow it."
"You won't allow it?" she repeated, irritation creeping into her tone.
His voice remained firm. "No. It's too dangerous. But you don't have to worry—I'll send the best physicians, ensure the homeless and orphans are cared for. I'll fix this."
Selene clenched her fists, swallowing her frustration.
Ronan stepped back, regarding her with cool authority. "Perhaps you could busy yourself by getting to know your ladies-in-waiting. They might help take your mind off this."
Selene let out a sharp humorless laugh. "Ah, yes. The Queen should occupy herself with good gossip while the King makes all the decisions."
Ronan's expression darkened, his patience thinning. "You know that's not what I meant." His voice was edged now, controlled but firm. Then, with a sigh, he turned toward the door. "If you'll excuse me, I need to have a word with my council."
She watched as he turned and walked away, the conversation clearly over.
Selene let out a slow breath, her fingers twitching at her sides.
She needed to go to the village. Not just to help the wounded but to find out who was responsible. This wasn't just an attack—it was a direct challenge to Ronan's rule. And Ronan had many enemies.
If someone was bold enough to strike at one of his villages, then they weren't just sending a message; they were making a move.
And that complicated things.
If an enemy succeeded in taking down Ronan before she and the faction could, it wouldn't be a victory—it would be a disaster. Because whoever had the power to defeat Ronan would not stop there. They would seize control of the kingdom, and Selene would be left with a new enemy—one she knew nothing about, one she had no way of predicting or manipulating.
She wasn't doing this out of kindness. She wasn't trying to help Ronan. She was protecting her plan.
And if she had to play the role of the concerned Queen a little longer, so be it.