Chapter 2: The Crown’s Rot

The stench of smoke clung to the palace like a funeral shroud. Jade stood at her chamber window, watching the Ashenwood smolder in the distance. Villagers’ shouts drifted up—"Witch!” “Traitor!”—as Julien’s soldiers dragged charred bodies from the ruins.

A knock. Her mother, Queen Catherine, entered without waiting. Her face was marble, but her eyes betrayed fear.

Catherine: “Your father knows you were in the Ashenwood."

Jade: "Let him rage. I saved a life.”

Catherine: “You lit a fuse. That boy… Edward. He’s Mark’s son, isn’t he?”

Jade froze. “You knew?”

Catherine’s voice cracked. "I tried to save him. But some curses can’t be undone.”

Beneath the city, in a tavern reeking of ale and treason, rebels huddled around a map. Their leader, Garrick (a grizzled war deserter), stabbed a dagger into Agmeygv’s crest.

Garrick: "The princess burned the Ashenwood. Julien’s weakness is showing.”

A Rebel: “Or she’s just another spoiled royal playing with fire.”

Garrick grinned, tossing a charred rose onto the table—a symbol from the blaze. “Either way, we’ll use her. Spread the word: the Ashmarked Princess fights for us.”

Julien paced his war room, his crown askew. Reports piled high: Rebel sightings. Famine. A missing prince from a rival kingdom. His advisor, General Rook (a man with a falcon’s glare), cleared his throat.

General Rook: "The people blame you for the fire. They say Jade’s magic is a blessing.”

Julien: “Magic? That’s Galloway poison! Find Edward. Cut out his tongue before he whispers more lies.”

General Rook: “And the princess?”

Julien’s fist clenched. "She’ll learn the cost of defiance.”

Jade found Edward in the palace crypts, tracing names on dusty coffins. “Looking for your father’s?”

Edward: “Mark Galloway doesn’t deserve a tomb. He deserves to be forgotten.”

Jade:“Then why stay here?”

He turned, eyes glinting. "Because your family buried more than bones.”He kicked a loose stone, revealing a hidden compartment—a ledger detailing Julien’s bribes, assassinations, and stolen land.

Jade: "This… this can’t be real.”

Edward: “Burn it, and you’re complicit. Use it, and you’re queen.”

That night, assassins slipped into the palace. Jade awoke to steel at her throat.

Assassin: “The king sends his love.”

Before she could scream, shadows erupted. Edward disarmed the man, snapping his neck with a sickening crunch.

Jade: "You killed him!”

Edward: "And you’re welcome.” He tossed her a dagger. "Next time, don’t hesitate.”

Jade: "Why save me?"

Edward: “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t look at me like I’m a monster.”

Catherine confronted Julien in his chambers, her composure shattered.

Catherine: “You sent killers after our daughter!”

Julien: “She’s no daughter of mine. She’s Mark’s spawn, just like that boy!”

Catherine: “You’re wrong. But if you touch her again, I’ll burn this throne myself.”

In the crypts, Jade and Edward pored over the ledger by candlelight.

Jade: “We’ll expose my father. Tear down his lies.”

Edward: “And when the dust settles? You’ll be left ruling ashes.”

Jade: “Then we’ll plant something new.”

He smirked, lifting a wine goblet. "To the Ashmarked Queen and her cursed advisor.”

They drank, the candle flickering—a tiny flame in the dark.

Beyond the palace walls, Garrick’s rebels marched, their torches cutting through the night. A scout brought word: "The princess is with the Galloway boy. They’re vulnerable.”

“Then we strike at dawn. For Agmeygv.”

The rebels roared, their chants echoing like thunder.

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