Chapter 15 – The Strategy of the Cards

Violet

The sound of melting snow dripping from the cabin’s eaves was a cruel reminder that time didn’t stop — and that it would soon run out for us. Despite the snow, nothing was as merciless as the Espadaris winter, according to Draven. The improvised shelter, hidden among roots and cliffs, no longer felt so safe. Draven only lit the fireplace at specific times, fearing the smoke might reveal our presence, and even so, the tension hadn’t left the air since we shared the last truth.

The truth about my father. About the war. About us.

“If you go back now, he’ll lock you away. Silence you,” Draven had said the night before, eyes fixed on the stubborn flame between the stones.

And I knew he was right. Ever since I’d read those words on the burned maps and heard the phrase that echoed like an omen — “Cartara will be unified, with or without the consent of the Thrones” — everything changed inside me. The girl who once obeyed her father’s decrees was in ruins. And from the shards, something new had begun to form.

But what could I do? I was just a hidden daughter, wrists marked and heart torn between blood and what was left of hope.

“I need to confront him.” My voice broke the silence with more resolve than I expected.

Draven sighed, and the sound seemed to echo through the wooden walls like a stifled confession.

“Violet, this isn’t a story where you walk into the throne room, ask questions, and leave with answers. If you reveal yourself now, he will act. He won’t let anything jeopardize the plan — whatever it is.”

“Exactly why I must act. If I sit here and wait, the pieces will move without me. And before I realize it, everything will have already collapsed.”

He looked at me as if searching for that version of me that was still fragile, scared. But she wasn’t there anymore. Only the woman who wanted to stop a war — even without knowing how — remained.

“What if he’s not the only one?” Draven continued. “You said it yourself, there were seals from another kingdom. This goes beyond him. Maybe it’s already out of your father’s control. And if you show yourself now, you’ll be a target. Maybe not from him, but from the invisible enemy behind all this. Violet, you could vanish. Literally.”

“I already have. For days now.” I whispered. “And still, soldiers comb the forests of Cardan. They’re looking for me. If they find us here, we’ll be captured. And you...”

“I wouldn’t make it back. Couldn’t. The winter swallowed the route to Espadaris. Ice covered the trail. I’d either be imprisoned or die trying to cross.”

We were trapped. Literally. Caught between two kingdoms and a truth too heavy to carry alone.

Draven stood up. The sound of the wood under his feet was rhythmic, precise, like a soldier calculating options.

“Then we need allies. Someone who knows how to move through shadows. Someone not sworn to Cardan or Espadaris.”

I nodded slowly, the idea forming like a clearer fog.

“I know someone. An old friend. He vanished at the end of the last war, but he always said that if chaos returned, I’d find him in the Whispering Woods. But getting there...”

Draven stopped in front of me.

“We’ll have to become shadows among shadows. And you...”

“If you come with me, if you step out of this cabin by my side, you’ll be considered a traitor. An enemy of your own kingdom. I need you to understand that.”

I looked into his eyes. For the first time, without looking away. And I said:

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“And if I stay, I’ll be an accomplice. So go ahead. I’ll follow.”

On the cold days when we still had time, Draven improvised a small training session in the tight space behind the cabin. Using a sturdy branch as a sword, he taught me the basics of grip, balance, and defense.

“You’re holding it too upright,” he corrected, gripping my wrist firmly. “Do you want to look noble or keep your head on your shoulders?”

“What if I want both?” I shot back with a smile.

He gave a dry laugh, but there was amusement in his eyes.

“Then let’s try not to cut your own foot off first.”

The strikes were slow and calculated. I turned my wrist, tripped twice, and nearly hit him in the shoulder, which made him gasp dramatically and clutch his chest like a stage actor.

“I’ve been betrayed by my own pupil. Tragic.”

“Oh, spare me. You deserved it.”

In the end, I collapsed into the snow, laughing and breathless. Draven offered his hand to help me up. For a moment, our fingers lingered longer than necessary. And he looked away, as if that touch was more dangerous than any sword.

The nights came slowly. And with them, silence. The kind of silence that seeps into your skin like the cold of snow.

On the third night after forming our plan, I awoke from a dream that still warmed me from within. Not with hope. But with something more intimate, more forbidden.

I was in Draven’s arms. His eyes held no weight of war, only a serene, almost tender light. His hands traced my face with such care, as if afraid of breaking something sacred. And in the dream, for the first time, I felt no fear. Only a warmth growing in my chest, a wild desire to lose myself in that moment and never wake again.

But I woke up. And he was there, exactly as in the dream. Sleeping on the other side of the fire, sword within reach and brow furrowed like even in dreams he fought battles.

I started to notice every gesture. The way he held his utensils even when no one chased us. How his shoulders stayed tense, ready to react to any sound. But also, how sometimes, when he thought I wasn’t looking, he closed his eyes by the fire and let his face soften, as if only then he could rest.

I saw him with new eyes. And that scared me more than any soldier from Cardan or Espadaris.

Because amidst the chaos, a dangerous thought had been born: what if I wanted to stay? What if, in the end, I didn’t just want to save the kingdom... but also us?

**

The following days were filled with silent preparation. I could walk better. The wounds were healing, and so was my hesitation. We wore dark clothes, thick furs, and packed everything light enough for our escape.

On the last night before departure, I sat beside Draven and broke the silence.

“Why do you care so much?”

He didn’t answer right away. He picked up a piece of firewood and fed the flame.

“Because... once, I believed in something greater. In peace. In alliance. And in the end, I lost everything. But when I read your letter... I remembered what it felt like to care.”

We fell silent. He seemed to weigh his words as if each was a chess piece.

“I didn’t know I was still capable of that. But you... you reminded me.”

And then he turned to me. Slowly. His face lit by embers, eyes deep, but not empty.

“When all this is over...” he began, then stopped. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” My voice came out softer than I intended.

He just smiled. A tired smile. But a sincere one.

And that dawn, while the winds blew warnings through the mountains, we left the cabin. Every step sank into snow up to our ankles, but our hearts sank deeper still. We were stepping into new territory, a new chapter.

Now, we were no longer princess and soldier. We were something no one had foreseen.

And as we walked toward the Whispering Woods, one certainty burned in me like the fire we’d left behind:

The shadows no longer belong to our enemies. They are now our allies.

That certainty, however, didn’t last long.

At the first bend in the trail, still shrouded in mist — a sound. It wasn’t from the forest. Nor the wind.

It was from someone — or something — following us.

“Behind me, now!” Draven pushed me into the deep snow.

I was frozen inside, not from the cold — but from what was about to emerge from the woods.

“This complicates everything,” Draven tightened his grip on the sword’s hilt.

“And this is just the beginning.”