“You didn't choose a weapon?” Uncle Hector uttered, his mouth agape. “What did you end up choosing?”

  It had been half an hour since Milina had left the Ancestral Vaults, the morning sun already high in the air.

  Walking up to him, she kept her face emotionless; she wanted to surprise him.

  “I couldn’t find a weapon that fit me. But I did find something even better.”

  “Something better?”

  Unable to hide her grin any longer, she triumphantly took off the large cloak she had thrown over herself before coming to her uncle’s study. As the large cloak fell to the floor, the white and silver armor came into view.

  “I chose this armor! None of the weapons spoke to me, but this armor felt like it was mine,” she said, spinning around so her uncle could see it.

  There was a small intake of breath as Hector inspected the armor, his hazel eyes widening. “This looks like it's Elven-made,” he whispered, standing up and circling her.

  “I think so too,” Milina agreed, raising her arms up and down to show him that the armor didn’t hinder her. “It’s so light that I don’t even feel it.”

  Tapping on her shoulder plates, Hector’s eyes widened even more before he burst out laughing. “If you don’t even feel the weight, then this wasn’t made by an Elf,” he said, his smile splitting his face in half. “This was made by a High Elf. Even Lundale only has a few artifacts made by them, and none of them are weapons or armor. As far as I know, they only have a handful of art pieces.”

  “A High Elf made this armor,” Milina breathed, glancing down at herself. If that was true, the value of the armor was unbelievable.

  “They say good weapons choose their owners,” her uncle said, his eyes gleaming. “This may not be a weapon, but I’ve no doubt it chose you. You make our family proud,” he added, giving her his approval.

  Stunned at his words, Milina froze. This armor must be more valuable than I realized, she thought. The fact that Uncle Hector is proud of me is… strange.

  Smiling awkwardly at him, she asked, “Uncle, have you heard of the name Kalina?”

  “Kalina?” he repeated, touching his chin in thought. “I’ve never heard of someone going by that name. Why do you ask?”

  “The name Kalina is engraved on the inside of the armor,” Milina explained, touching the section of armor at the back of her neck. “I think it’s the name of the person this armor belonged to.”

  Nodding in understanding, her uncle walked back to his desk. “Yes, that would make sense. But why is there a woman's armor set down in the Ancestral Vault?”

  “If only female heirs can enter the vault, King Magnus must have left it for one of us,” Milina reasoned.

  “That makes sense,” her uncle agreed. “I’ve never heard that name, but I’ll have some of the scribes go through our records and see if they can find her. But most likely we won’t find anything. By the way, I believe that you should wear this armor for your coronation. Even if everyone thinks it’s Elven-made, it will make it the most valuable armor in our Kingdom. It is the perfect opportunity to show the people that we are still strong.”

  “I agree,” Milina replied, placing her hand over her chest as she imagined the coronation. “I’ll wear Grandfather's military cape and Father’s crown. It’ll remind the people that we are still the Royal Family.”

  Determined to restore the prestige and powerful image her family once held, she knew she had to look the part.

  “Uncle, there are a few more things I noted down when I was in the vault,” she said, pulling out a wooden box. “First, three of the past kings had their weapons missing from their tombs—one of them being the Founder of our family. From that, we can assume he wasn’t buried with his weapon. Second, I wrote down the names and physical descriptions of the twelve kings. And finally, I took this box.”

  Passing the box to him, she waited.

  “What is this?” Hector asked, opening the box and pulling out the piece of paper.

  “I found it in a small compartment near the founder's coffin. I wrote down the names of the kings on it. But look at the other side.”

  Flipping the paper around, her uncle read aloud. “Take the coin to Arioria.”

  Frowning, he reached into the box and picked up the coin, his calloused fingers running over the Pegasus relief. “Arioria’s crest is a Unicorn, not a Pegasus,” he said, bringing the coin closer to his eyes. “I wonder why this coin was in the vault.”

  Placing the coin back into the box, he crossed his arms. “If it were found near our founder's coffin, then the note is likely authentic. The real question is whether Arioria would still honor such a promise. It must have been a few hundred years since it was given to us. I wonder if they even remember it. Still, if they do, they will almost certainly fulfill their world, they are a proud and loyal kingdom. Let us investigate it first; it would be embarrassing to present the coin and demand a favor if they no longer remember the promise.”

  Closing the box, he looked over at her. “I’ll keep the box for now until we learn more about it. In the meantime, I have something for you.”

  Lifting a long wooden box from behind his desk, he placed it on top of it. Opening it, he revealed a large double-handed saber.

  “This was your father’s saber.”

  Tentatively walking up to the saber, Milina looked down at it. It was larger than the practice ones she had been using, its surface polished to a mirror-like shine. Aside from that, the saber bore no other markings. Gently touching the plain handle wrapped in dark leather, she looked up at her uncle.

  “I don’t recognize this saber,” she said. “Father always wore one with a golden handle.

  “This weapon is a weapon of war, not one of status,” her uncle said, a sad look crossing his eyes. “Your father used it in the war with the Domibu tribe. After the war, he started to carry the gold one, saying it fit him better. I always thought this saber fit him more. I want you to have it.”

  “We need to fashion a scabbard for it before I can carry it around,” Milina said, lifting the saber out of the box. The tip of the saber dipped as the weight of the weapon settled in her hands. It was almost double what she expected.

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  “The saber is heavy, but it will carry you through the forms,” her uncle explained, noticing her surprise. “I will teach you our family's martial system after your coronation, but it will be challenging.”

  Bringing the saber in front of her in the standard guard that Zenrom had taught her, Milina nodded, her fingers tightening around the hilt. “Don’t worry about me, Uncle. I’m stronger than I look.”

  The afternoon sun sat lower in the sky than it had just a couple of weeks ago, the once green trees gradually turning into shades of yellow and amber. The smell of summer had changed, hints of autumn adding its melancholic aroma to the warmth of summer. The temperature had also changed, the sweltering heat giving way to a light breeze.

  Inside the castle, rays of sunlight streamed in through the wide windows, casting their light on the walls and heating the room where Milina was. Covering her mouth as she yawned, she wiped away the tears that appeared in her eyes. The warm room was making her sleepy, and the stacks of reports she had to read were not helping the situation. If she were to continue reading the dense reports, she would fall asleep. As she fought the enticing call of sleep, she heard a light knock on the door. Silently thanking whoever had knocked, she spoke, her gaze still on the report.

  “Come in. What is it?”

  Carefully opening the door and entering quietly, Rose curtsied before speaking. “Princess. Her Royal Highness Queen Ilistina of Lundale has arrived.”

  Looking up from the report that she had read but didn’t remember most of its contents, she took a deep breath. “Thank you, Rose. Do you know where she is now?”

  “At the moment, she is in the Eastern Garden.”

  Nodding at her maid, Milina stood up and put the report she was holding on the pile of read reports. Although she couldn’t remember most of it, she was able to understand the gist of it. The city guard was asking for more money; the number of guards they had wasn’t enough to keep the religious groups from causing trouble. They needed to hire more personnel to maintain peace. Unfortunately, the Kingdom didn’t have the funds—the treasury was already empty due to years of neglect.

  Signing in frustration, she knew she had to identify other struggling groups and cut their budget.

  Walking over to a body-length mirror, she quickly made sure she was presentable to meet with Queen Ilistina.

  Staring back at her was someone she barely recognized, her physical appearance stronger than what she remembered, her face brimming with confidence, a stranger wearing her skin looking back at her. If anyone saw her now, they would only see strength, but internally, she still felt weak and small, the ability to fake confidence the only talent she seemed to excel at.

  Exhaling, she took a moment to adjust her clothes and allowed Rose to fix her hair before stepping out into the hallway.

  Quickly making her way to the Eastern Garden, she paused at the entrance, scanning for Queen Ilistina before making her presence known.

  Queen Ilistina was sitting near the rose bushes she had planted in the past with Milina’s brother Perseus, her hands folded on her lap. It was not widely known, but Milina’s brother Perseus had been engaged to Ilistina, and the two were madly in love.

  Back when they were still courting, Ilistina’s presence had brought true happiness to Perseus. But that joy hadn’t lasted. Perseus had fallen ill, his condition worsening so quickly that even the healers of Lundale couldn’t help. He died soon after, laid to rest in the family vault before he ever had the chance to marry.

  Feeling her heart squeezing painfully, Milina observed Ilistina, the afternoon sunlight bathing the Elven Queen in a golden halo.

  Ilistina was the ideal image of royalty—beautiful, intelligent, and terrifyingly strong. She was someone who was raised to be a ruler.

  Aware of the difference between them, Milina felt a moment of envy before shame crept in. Silently chastising herself for her weakness, she approached the seated Queen and offered a small curtsy.

  “It’s an honor to meet you again, Your Majesty. It has been a while,” she said.

  “The honor is all mine. Congratulations on your coronation, Queen Milina,” Ilistina replied, rising to return the curtsy.

  “Thank you, but the coronation is tomorrow. I’m not Queen yet,” Milina laughed, motioning for them to sit. “I had my brother’s old room cleaned to accommodate your stay. I hope it brings back the wonderful memories you two shared.”

  She hoped, more than anything, that this gesture would bring comfort rather than sorrow.

  “Thank you for your kind consideration, that means more to me than you know,” Queen Ilistina replied, holding both of Milina’s hands in a warm and gentle clasp. “Remembering and honoring your brother would be good for me.”

  As Milina chatted with Ilistina, she couldn't help but imagine a world where her brother was still alive, one where she wouldn't be crowned Queen tomorrow. Perseus had shown such promise as a future king; his strength and kindness had earned the respect of everyone in the kingdom. With his marriage to Ilistina, the two great Kingdoms of Vanura and Lundale would have been united in a bond of mutual respect and purpose.

  But reality was much darker. Her brother had fallen ill and passed away far too soon, and Ilistina had returned to Lundale in mourning.

  At the time, Milina had questioned why any god could allow such a tragedy. How could such a soul be taken from them—taken from her? Only later did she realize that the gods did not care for the little lives of mortals, their comings and goings insignificant to them. The same as her indifference to the lives of bugs.

  As the conversation fell into a quiet hush, Milina opened her mouth, voicing words she had never said.

  “Many people blame my father for the Kingdom’s decline. They criticize Queen Kina and her family…” She was now staring at nothing, her mind remembering all the things the adults had tried to keep from her.

  “But that’s not the full truth. The reality is, my father broke when Perseus died. He lost himself. Perseus was his pride, his little warrior.”

  Her voice softened. “Queen Kina… was just a distraction, something to keep him from killing himself.”

  Turning to face Queen Ilistina, she bowed her head. “I’m sorry for all the pain my family has caused you. And I’m sorry for allowing what should have been your Kingdom to fall into such a state.”

  Seeing the pain in Milina’s eyes, Queen Ilistina reached out.

  “Please, Princess, do not be sorry for me. I would not trade the happiness and love I felt when I was with your brother for the whole world,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Milina in a tight hug.

  Blinking away tears that were threatening to spill out, Milina hugged Ilistina back.

  “Thank you for your kind words,” she managed to whisper. “I’m sorry you had to see me in that state.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Ilistina smiled, reaching into a hidden pocket in her dress and pulling out a handkerchief. “I believe you are stronger than you know. Not everyone can handle the responsibility of duty like you can. You might not know this, but your brother used to brag about you all the time. He loved you more than you know.”

  “He used to brag about me?” Milina questioned, accepting the handkerchief and dabbing her eyes.

  “All the time,” Ilistina laughed. “Let me tell you a story about your brother.”

  Settling down on the stone bench, she started to speak, her smooth voice drifting into the air. “It was around the time I met your brother for the first time…”

  The rest of the afternoon, the two of them sat in the garden surrounded by rose bushes, reminiscing about the beautiful past.

  The next day, Milina stood in the great throne room, clad in the silver armor she had chosen from the tomb, her father’s saber strapped to her waist.

  In front of her stood all the nobles of her Kingdom, as well as the princes and dignitaries representing the different Kingdoms surrounding Salizia.

  As the sea of faces silently judged her, she stood upright, nervous but determined to do the best she could do. She would no longer run from her duties.

  Reminding herself to keep breathing, she watched as her uncle lifted the Royal Crown high in the air, the sunlight catching on the embedded jewels and casting glimmering rays across her face. Bowing her head slightly, she allowed him to place the crown on her head.

  The crown was heavy, but so was the mantle of duty that came with it. As its weight settled on her shoulders, she straightened up, standing as tall and composed as she could. She turned to face the gathered assembly.

  “I give you Queen Milina—the Phoenix Reborn!” Hector declared, his voice echoing through every corner of the great throne room.

  Thunderous applause erupted as the room came alive, the guests rising to their feet and clapping. Feeling the roar from the crowd washing over her, Milina put on a strong and commanding expression. Even if she felt like an impostor, she would never let them see doubt. Never let her family down.

  Wearing the golden crown, her reddish-brown hair aglow in the sunlight, she stood not just as a ruler but as a symbol.

  The Phoenix of Salizia had risen once more. And it would not fall.