The next morning greeted the Aichenwald palace with a gray, damp sky. The rain that had begun during the night showed no sign of stopping, and its monotonous patter against the windows of the Council Hall created a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
Amanda stood by the window, watching streams of water trace paths down the glass. She wore her full golden armor, which still gleamed even on this gloomy day. The helmet hid her face, transforming her from a woman into a symbol — something people believed in, something their enemies feared.
Beside her, at the head of the long oak table, sat Randel. Tywin had not come today; the old duke had taken ill with a cold, and for the first time, his heir was presiding over the council alone. Yet Randel’s face was calm, his voice firm. He was ready.
“Come in, gentlemen,” he said as the last advisor took his seat. “We have much to discuss.”
Amanda watched them enter. Generals, advisors, vassals. All men. All dressed in dark, severe clothing. All bearing the marks the war had left on their faces. They sat down at the table, spreading out maps, scrolls, and reports. No one seemed surprised to see her there. No one asked why a woman stood beside the heir’s seat. After what she had done in the mountain pass, after she had stopped the horde, after she had become part of the Aichenwald family… her place was here. And everyone knew it.
“First matter,” Randel said, unrolling a map of the northern borders. “The restoration of the fortifications in Fallen Giant Pass. Report.”
The meeting proceeded in its usual order. They spoke of destroyed villages, of refugees, of winter food supplies. The voices were tired, but steady. The war was over. Now it was time to build peace.
Amanda was listening, but not truly hearing. She was watching the faces. Searching. She didn’t even know what for. She simply… felt it.
“In the book there was betrayal,” she recalled. “Someone opened the pass for the horde. Someone sold them out for gold. That was why the entire duchy fell.”
She studied the generals. The advisors. The vassals. They all looked tired, but honest. All of them — except one.
His name was Lord Corbin. He sat at the far end of the table, almost by the door. His face was narrow, with sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes. A black eyepatch covered his right eye — a souvenir from an old battle, people said. On his left hand gleamed a heavy ruby ring, which he kept twisting between his fingers. His manners were impeccable, his voice smooth and persuasive, and his smile always came at exactly the right moment.
Amanda stared at him, and something inside her went cold.
“Where have I seen this face?”
She frantically flipped through the pages of the book she had read back when she was Yamada Light. The same book in which the duchy had fallen. The same book in which everyone had died.
“Lord Corbin,” the memory surfaced. “Vassal of the eastern lands. Lost an eye in battle against the mountain clans. Always wore the ruby. Always smiled. Always…”
“He sold the pass,” she whispered. “For gold. For the promise of power.”
Randel, catching her whisper, turned toward her.
“What?” he asked quietly.
Amanda kept her eyes fixed on Corbin. On his smile. On his ring. On his one living eye — dark, gleaming, filled with the same greed that had been described in the book.
“This man,” her voice was flat, but tight with tension, “Lord Corbin.”
“What about him?”
She wanted to say: “He is a traitor. He sold you out. He will open the pass, and everyone will die.” But she couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not without proof.
“He…” she began.
“Lord Corbin,” Randel’s voice rang out clearly, cutting through the murmur of the meeting. “Did you wish to add something?”
All eyes turned to him. Corbin lifted his head and offered that same smile — polite, open, and seemingly sincere.
“No, Your Grace,” he said. “I was simply listening.”
“You have no objection if we continue discussing the restoration of the eastern borders?” Randel asked. “Your lands suffered the most.”
“I would be grateful for any assistance,” Corbin bowed his head slightly. “My people have lost everything. Livestock, homes, crops. Without the duchy’s support, we will not survive the winter.”
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He spoke with sincerity. His voice was full of pain. His eyes shone with gratitude. But Amanda saw something else. She saw how his fingers kept twisting the ruby ring. How his lips pressed into a thin line. How his one good eye lingered for a second too long on the map of the eastern passes — exactly where, according to the book, the horde was supposed to break through.
“We will help,” Randel said. “You’ll receive food supplies and men to restore the fortifications. We do not abandon our own.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Corbin bowed.
The meeting continued. They spoke of taxes, supply lines, and new garrisons. Amanda remained silent. She watched Corbin and waited. Waited for him to slip up. To say one word too many. For her memory to be proven right.
And then it came.
“There is one more matter,” Corbin raised his hand, and the room fell quiet. “The eastern passes. They must be strengthened. The horde may return. And those trails are the most vulnerable points.”
Randel nodded.
“We have already sent engineers there.”
“That is not enough,” Corbin shook his head. “We need troops. A permanent garrison. I suggest stationing the Northern Wind Legion there.”
“The Northern Wind Legion is needed on the western borders,” one of the generals objected. “It’s unstable there.”
“The east is more important,” Corbin insisted. “If the horde returns, they will strike exactly there. I know these lands. I know these passes. I…”
“You know them far too well,” Amanda’s voice rang out, unexpectedly loud.
Everyone turned to her. Corbin as well. His face remained perfectly calm, but his fingers froze on the ruby ring.
“Pardon?” he asked.
“You said you know these passes,” Amanda stepped forward. Her golden armor flashed in the candlelight. “Let me ask a simple question. How?”
“I served there. Many years ago.”
“You served there. And then you lost your eye. In battle against the mountain clans. Correct?”
Corbin stayed silent. His face was unreadable.
“An interesting story,” Amanda continued. “The mountain clans never attacked the eastern passes. They always struck from the north. Everyone knows that. Everyone who has ever served there.”
A heavy silence fell over the hall. The generals exchanged uneasy glances. Randel looked at Amanda, and in his eyes there was not surprise, but deep concern.
“You dare accuse me of lying?” Corbin’s voice turned ice-cold.
“I’m asking a question,” Amanda stepped closer. “Where exactly did you lose your eye, Lord Corbin? And how much gold did you receive for that scar?”
He shot to his feet. His chair crashed loudly to the floor. His face flushed crimson.
“How dare you?! I am a loyal vassal! I fought for this house! I—”
“You fought for gold,” Amanda cut him off. “You opened the pass for the horde. You sold your own people. You murdered your own countrymen. And now you want the duchy to send its best legion to the east — to weaken the western borders. So that when the horde returns, it can strike where we least expect it.”
“What nonsense is this?! It’s a lie!” Corbin snarled, drawing a dagger.
In the same instant, Randel was beside Amanda, shielding her with his body.
“Lower your weapon,” the heir’s voice was calm, yet it carried the unmistakable ring of steel.
“She’s lying!” Corbin trembled with rage. “I did nothing! I—”
“Then explain this,” Amanda stepped out from behind Randel. “Why is the Imperial crest engraved on your ring? The very same symbol imperial spies use to identify their agents?”
Corbin froze. The hand holding the dagger slowly lowered. His face drained of all color.
“How… how do you know that?”
“I know many things,” Amanda removed her helmet. Her scarlet eyes bored into him. “I know you received three sacks of gold. I know they promised you a title and lands once House Aichenwald fell. I know you killed your own brother when he discovered the truth.”
Corbin staggered back. His face was deathly pale.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“I am the one who remembers,” Amanda said. “I am the one who sees. I am the one who knows.”
She turned to Randel.
“Search his lands. You will find the gold. The letters. The names of those who helped him. The horde could never have passed without help from within.”
Randel looked at her. There was surprise in his eyes, but no doubt.
“You heard her,” he said, turning to the guards standing by the doors. “Search everything. Immediately.”
Corbin collapsed to his knees. The dagger slipped from his fingers and clattered against the stone floor.
“Mercy,” he whispered. “I… I didn’t want to. They promised. They said the duchy would fall anyway. That I could either die with it, or…”
“Or betray,” Randel finished. “And you chose betrayal.”
“I wanted to live!” Corbin cried out. “I wanted my family to survive! You don’t know what it’s like to watch everything you’ve built crumble before your eyes!”
“I do know,” Randel looked down at him. “I stood in the forest, surrounded by enemies. I was ready to die. But I did not betray.”
He turned to the guards.
“Take him away. Interrogate him. I want every name — everyone who was with him. Everyone who took the gold. Everyone who sold their own people.”
Corbin was hauled to his feet. He offered no resistance. His face was blank, his eyes dead.
“You won’t defeat them,” he said as they dragged him toward the doors. “The Empire is stronger. Cassius is stronger. She won’t save you. No one will save you.”
The doors closed behind him. The hall fell silent. The generals looked at Amanda, and in their eyes was something she hadn’t expected.
Not fear. Respect.
Randel stepped closer to her.
“How did you know?” he asked quietly.
“I saw it,” she answered. “I saw it all. In my dreams. In the forest. In what remains of my people.”
She could not tell him the full truth. Not here. Not now. But he didn’t press further. He simply took her hand in his.
“Thank you,” he said. “Again.”
Amanda stared at the closed doors through which the traitor had been taken. She thought about how the book had been right. And how she, without even realizing it, had changed history. Not with magic. Not with power. But with memory.
“Now we know,” she said. “Now we are ready.”
“For what?” Randel asked.
“For whatever comes next. The Empire will not stop. Cassius will not forgive this defeat. This is only the beginning.”
She looked at him, determination burning in her eyes.
“But now we have time. And we will use it.”
Randel squeezed her hand.
“Together,” he said.
“Together,” she replied.
The meeting continued. But the hall was quieter now. Everyone understood: the enemy was not only outside. The enemy was within. And only the one who remembers, who sees, who knows, could save them all.
And that someone stood beside the heir, clad in golden armor, her face open to the world. In her scarlet eyes burned a fire that neither the Empire, nor time, nor death itself could extinguish.