Chapter 62: After the Flames

Chapter 62: After the Flames [Lavinia’s Pov] The palace was still in chaos. I could hear it — the thunder of boots against marble, the clash of steel, voices barking orders into the storm of fear. Panic moved through the halls like wildfire. But none of it mattered. Not when Ravick opened the door to my chamber and when I saw her. "...Nanny." My voice cracked. My legs barely held me, but they didn’t care. They moved before I could think — faster, faster — until I crashed into her skirts, clutching the familiar fabric like a lifeline. Nanny turned the moment she saw me. Her face crumpled — part shock, part overwhelming relief — and then she was on her knees, arms wrapping around me like the walls of the world had finally returned. "Oh... my little Princess," she whispered, voice thick with tears. "By the heavens, thank the stars you’re safe, my precious girl." She held me so tightly, like she will lose me again. Like if she loosened her grip, I’d disappear into the chaos outside. The sounds of the palace — the storm of soldiers and panic — faded behind the chamber doors. Here, there was only Nanny and me. Only warmth. Only home. I buried my face into her cloak, breathing in that scent — herbs and rosewater, the smell of comfort, the smell of safe. If I stayed like this, maybe time would stop. Maybe the nightmare wouldn’t be real anymore. But when I finally pulled back to look at her, I saw it — her temple, where she was hit before, had no wound. Maybe Grandpa Thalein healed her too. But still, my fingers, trembling, reached up to touch it as I recalled her wounds from earlier. But nanny, she smiled gently, pressing her hand over mine. "Lord Thaiein healed me, Princess," she said softly. "It’s nothing now. Everything is fine, my princess." I nodded, but something inside cracked again. I lunged back into her arms, clinging even tighter. "Hngh... Nanny... I was so scared..." I choked it out. My words drowned in quiet sobs. "It was dark... and that man grabbed me... and I— I thought I lost you..." She rocked me gently, the way she used to when I had nightmares. "Shhh... my sweet princess," she murmured. "It’s over. You’re safe. No one will ever take you from me again." I remembered clearly—how she held onto me even as that man hit her. How she wrapped her body around mine like a shield, even when he tried to rip me away. She never let go. Even when it hurt. Even when it meant risking her life. That’s what a mother does... isn’t it? Sylvaine may have brought me into this world, but it was Nanny Nerina who raised me. Nanny Nerina, who stayed up through my fevers, who sang to me when I couldn’t sleep, who whispered stories in the dark and held me through every storm. She’s not just my nanny. She’s my real mother. I melted into her embrace, and she hugged me more tightly, calming me down. *** [Emperor Cassius’s Pov] "Did she sleep?" My voice was low, almost a whisper, but it sliced through the heavy quiet of the room. Nerina, seated beside the bed, looked up from where she had just finished tucking Lavinia in. Her hand lingered over the child’s chest, as if still guarding her with every breath. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said softly. "She’s asleep." I stepped closer, the weight of blood still clinging to my boots, the scent of smoke and steel trailing behind me like a shadow. My soldiers had just finished dragging the last of the corpses out of the eastern wing. I could still hear the screams of cries in my ears — not from the intruders, but from my daughter. My little girl. I stood over her bed, looking down at her face — flushed from crying, tear-tracks dried on her cheeks. She looked so small. Too small to carry the weight of my enemies’ hatred. "She’s seen too much today," Nerina said quietly. "No child should have to." I clenched my jaw, my hands curling into fists at my sides. I had crushed rebellions, razed cities, and silenced traitors — but none of it prepared me for the sound of her scream echoing through the palace halls. For a moment, I had tasted something worse than death. I looked at Nerina. "Thank you," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. "For not letting her go. Even when they hurt you." She smiled, though she was in danger "You shouldn’t thank me, my lord. I only followed instinct. She is my heart as well." I said nothing. Just nodded. "Stay with her tonight," I commanded. "I have work to do. Things to...clean up." "Yes, Your Majesty," she said with a bow. I leaned down and pressed my lips to Lavinia’s forehead. She didn’t stir, but her little fingers shifted in her sleep, reaching out. As if she knew I was there. As if she knew I had come for her. My chest twisted painfully. I turned and left the chamber, closing the doors behind me with slow, silent care. The hallway was quieter than the rest of the palace, muffled from the chaos outside. My footsteps echoed off the marble floors as I walked, my thoughts churning. I remembered Marshmallow—hissing, pawing, growling, his fur bristling as if he sensed something before it even began. "What’s wrong with him?" I had asked Theon, watching the creature dart between my legs. "...Perhaps he was upset about being left behind, Your Majesty," Theon had said, trying to scoop him up. "Maybe he wanted to stay with the princess." Theon nodded, lifting the still-hissing animal—and then— "YOUR MAJESTY! THE PRINCESS—THE PRINCESS HAS BEEN ATTACKED!" Marella’s scream shattered the air as she burst through the banquet hall doors, her face pale, her voice trembling. A gasp filled the hall. "WHAT!" "ATTACK?!" "THE PRINCESS WAS ATTACKED?" "What did you just say?" Theon barked, already moving. But I was no longer listening. I ran. I didn’t think, didn’t breathe—my instincts overtook me. The moment her name and the word attack were spoken in the same breath, the world collapsed into noise. My vision blurred; my heart pounded like war drums. My daughter... Lavinia... she’s in danger? No. No! How? HOW could this happen again? I had tripled the guards after the last incident. I had vetted every servant, every knight, every shadow that crossed her path. I had watched the world bleed to make her safe. And still— Still, they had reached her. They still dared. I stormed through the palace like a beast unchained, my vision red, my breath ragged with fury. If even a single hair on her head has been harmed—I will raze this empire to the ground. I will drown it in blood if I have to. I tore through the gilded corridors, ignoring the horrified stares of servants and soldiers alike. The pristine marble floor was stained with chaos—overturned vases, blood splatters, and torn tapestries. And then— Steel clashed ahead. Screams. A body slammed against the wall, crumpling like paper. I turned the corner and saw Ravick. His blade dripped red as he cut down a masked assassin with brutal precision. Another came from behind him—but I moved faster. My sword found flesh, slicing through bone like butter. "Your Majesty!" Ravick gasped, briefly stunned. "You shouldn’t be here—" "Where is she?" I snarled, grabbing him by the collar. "Where is my daughter?" "She—!" Ravick caught his breath. "Nanny Nerina took her and ran. She’s protecting the princess—" Nerina! I know...she would die before letting anyone touch Lavinia. But even she... she’s only human. She’s not enough. "She can’t face them alone," I growled, pushing him back. "Go. Find them. Protect my daughter." "Yes, my lord!" "FAST!" Ravick gave a sharp nod and vanished into the shadows, his footsteps echoing like thunder. Meanwhile, another assassin lunged from the side—screaming in some foreign tongue, blade drawn for my throat. I didn’t hesitate. Steel met flesh. Blood sprayed on the wall. I moved like death itself, cutting down every wretched soul who dared to stain these halls with their presence. The floor was slick beneath my boots, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. She was here. She walked these halls. What if...she cried here. What if...she bled here? HOW DARE THIS BASTARDS, TOUCH MY DAUGHTER! The scent of blood burned my nose, but beneath it—faint, delicate—I smelled lavender. Her scent. Lavinia. My little girl. My daughter. And I wasn’t there when she needed me. I gritted my teeth as I tore my blade from the last assassin’s corpse, my chest heaving, my hands slick with blood. I WILL KILL EVERYONE! EVERY SINGLE PERSON, WHO DARED TO TOUCH HER! I carved my way through the chaos like a madman, blade singing death with every swing. Screams echoed, metal clashed, but I heard none of it. I saw only red. The blood of those who dared touch what was mine. I didn’t even realize I was soaked in it until— "Your Majesty!" Theon’s voice tore through the haze. "The princess—she’s safe! She’s here!" My heart stopped. My sword slipped from my fingers. My legs moved before my mind could catch up. And then I saw her. Lavinia. Tiny. Alive. Reaching for me. "Papa..." Her voice cracked something in me. I dropped to my knees and caught her in my arms. I held her so tight, like she might disappear if I let go. She was warm. Breathing. Real. Thank the gods. But then— I looked down. My hands were soaked. My uniform stained with blood. It wasn’t mine—but it didn’t matter. I looked like a monster. I pulled back quickly, trying to hide it from her. Take the princess back to her chamber," I said, my voice rough with shame. She shouldn’t see me like this. Not like this. But then— "Hngh... w-wahhh... wahhh...!" Her sobs shattered me. Why is she crying? Is she hurt? Did one of those bastards hurt her? I clenched my jaw, rage surging again. "...Seriously," Lord Gregor muttered beside me, stepping forward. "After everything, the one thing she needs is her father. And you’re turning away from her?" I blinked. I looked at her again. Tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, her arms still reaching for me. "But I’m covered in blood." "Did you forget?" Lord Gregor said softly. "Your daughter doesn’t mind that." That’s right, how could I forget that. My daughter, she never feared blood, unless it was someone close to her. Hah....I am such a fool. Without another word, I turned back to her. She reached for me again, sobbing, her face blotchy and red. I wrapped her in my arms once more. And the moment I did, she stopped crying. She is the only warmth I have in this cold, brutal life.And I swear—on crown, empire, and blood—She will never face this kind of fear again. Never. Ever. Again.