Caspian’s pov
Dusk had an eerie beauty about it, especially in moments of distress. The cold breeze wrapped around the territory like a tightening grip, its sharpness a reminder of the bitter days to come. Soon, the snow would fall, blanketing the land in white—only after it had been stained red with the blood of battle. We stood at the edge of a knife, both literally and figuratively. As king, it was my duty to lead the army into the heart of conflict, where we would fight not just for survival but for power.
“I see your army has seamlessly blended with Mistefell’s,” Aeris said, her voice calm but laced with an underlying tension. Her eyes, however, were far less composed, flickering with a hint of unease.
“It was inevitable,” I replied, turning to face her fully. “After all, we’re mat
