King in another world

The red ribbon was back.

Hanging casually from Terranus’s doorknob like a signature on a silent deal. No one had knocked. No one had announced themselves.

But Lyra was inside.

She stood by the window, silhouetted against moonlight, arms crossed, eyes calm and calculating. The wind stirred her loose tunic and breeches, but there was something different tonight—a tension beneath her calm, a storm behind those steady eyes.

Terranus shut the door slowly.

“Breaking in now, are we?”

Lyra didn’t smile. “You’re not the only one with secrets.”

She stepped forward and tossed a small emblem onto the desk. A golden falcon—the mark of the Eldorian royal family.

It landed with a soft clink. Heavy. Real.

Terranus stared at it.

“Explain,” he said.

She exhaled, then sat on the edge of the desk, hands resting in her lap like a child waiting to be judged.

“My name is Lyra Elinor Eldoria. Second daughter of King Alaric. Bastard-born. Conceived in a political scandal that nearly broke the court.”

Silence.

Terranus didn’t flinch. He simply folded his arms and listened.

“My mother was a noblewoman from a foreign court. Powerful blood, but not enough to marry into the throne. When I was born, I was hidden—publicly claimed by another house, privately acknowledged by no one. I was raised by wet nurses, hidden behind masks and tutors, and taught never to think of the palace as home.”

“And the ribbon?” he asked.

“A gift from the only servant who ever treated me like a person. She used to say, ‘Tie this in your hair, and let the world see what they tried to hide.’”

Terranus walked to the desk, picked up the emblem, weighed it in his hand. It was warm.

“Why tell me now?”

“Because,” she said quietly, “you’re not just another rich boy with ambition. You see patterns. You move like someone building an empire. And I want in.”

He studied her. The fire in her voice. The honesty was laced with pain. The mask that had cracked—not for show, but for survival.

“And what do you want, exactly?” he asked.

She stood now, crossing the room slowly. There was no seduction in her step—only truth.

“I want my freedom. I want my birthright acknowledged on my terms, not theirs. And I want to burn the old court to the ground and rebuild it with people who’ve bled for power, not inherited it.”

Their eyes locked.

Something between a challenge and a confession passed in the silence.

Then, Terranus stepped forward.

And they kissed.

Not like lovers in a storybook. No slow fade. No swelling music.

There were two fire meetings for the first time.

Two storms testing each other’s strength.

They sat side by side on the narrow bed. Fully clothed. Tension still thick in the room.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “But I respect you.”

She smirked. “That’ll do.”

Outside, the city murmured like a sleeping beast.

Inside, two dangerous souls had just made a silent pact.

They would rise together—or burn everything trying.

Elana  Terradiva had always trusted her instincts.

So when the Watchtower Sages summoned her with barely a whisper of ceremony—no banner, no entourage—just a discreet scroll wrapped in wax and paranoia—she knew something was off.

The Watchtower itself sat high above the capital, a secluded fortress of scrolls, memory, and men who aged like parchment. Most nobles feared the place. Elana  respected it. Information was power. And if they were calling her, it meant someone had finally overplayed their hand.

The sage waiting for her was an old man wrapped in ivory robes, skin like dried ink and eyes sharp as needles.

“You were not supposed to see this,” he said, voice brittle. “But times are changing, Lady Terradiva. And lies rot faster than truth.”

He handed her two scrolls—sealed in wax marked with both the sigil of House Eldoria and an unfamiliar crest she hadn’t seen since she was a child.

She broke the seal.

And her world shifted.

The first scroll was old. Faded ink. Gilded edges. But the message was clear:

The Terradiva bloodline was descended from a forgotten prince, cast out during the era of the Third Concord. A political cleansing, disguised as an “honorable exile.” Their ancestors had been stripped of royal status for backing the wrong faction during a succession war. His name was removed from records. His lands turned over to loyalists.

But he hadn’t vanished.

He’d gone south. Built a new estate. Founded the Terradiva name in silence.

They had royal blood.

And the royal family had known all along.

This one was newer. Marked with recent ink. It was a secret decree—only known to the highest advisors and a few trusted sages.

“By royal order, no member of the Terradiva line shall be granted full inheritance rights, high court position, or title above Count. Their bloodline is to remain politically insignificant. Marriage into the royal family is forbidden. Education in the capital is restricted. Surveillance is permanent.”

They weren’t just ignored.

They were suppressed.

Fears.

Elana  stared at the words until her hands trembled.

No wonder the court had always smiled so carefully. No wonder every offer of advancement for her sons had mysteriously vanished in bureaucracy.

She wasn’t paranoid.

She was right.

Elana  returned home without a word to the guards. Straight to the study. Locked the door. Pulled down an old map of the royal lineages and traced it with her finger.

Terranus’s face flashed in her mind.

So sharp. So driven. So hungry.

She now understood why the king’s court watched him with veiled eyes. Why Lazar had recruited him quickly, yet cautiously. They weren’t just grooming him.

They were keeping him close.

A controlled fire is safer than a wildfire.

She was waiting in the study.

“You’re late,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re still awake?”

“I’ve been reading.”

He noticed the scrolls, the ink on her fingers, the fire behind her calm eyes.

“Bad news?” he asked.

“Old news,” she said coldly. “But finally, the truth.”

He walked forward slowly. “What truth?”

“That your blood isn’t just noble,” she said. “It’s dangerous. And they’ve known since the day you were born.”

Terranus’s jaw tightened. “They’ve been holding us back.”

Elana  nodded. “Because they’re afraid.”

For a long moment, the room was silent.

Then Terranus smirked.

“Good. Let them be.”