[POV Liselotte]

The morning sun filtered through the tall stained-glass windows of the royal cathedral, turning the air into a golden haze where motes of dust drifted like ashes of gold. The atmosphere carried an intoxicating blend of ancient incense, beeswax, and the metallic scent of hundreds of polished suits of armor.

I stood at the foot of the great staircase leading to the secondary throne—the one reserved for the heir. My body felt strange, confined within a midnight-blue silk doublet reinforced with black leather and silver engravings that gleamed with almost aggressive intensity. It wasn’t heavy armor—I needed mobility for my magic—but every seam seemed determined to remind me that I was no longer an anonymous adventurer.

At my side, Chloé remained unnaturally still. She wore a lighter variant of my uniform, her white tail swaying rhythmically behind her, her wolf ears raised and alert, catching the murmurs rippling through the side naves. She, too, would be part of my unit—an extension of my own shadow.

“Keep your head high,” Leah whispered.

She stood one step ahead of me, wearing the royal diadem that marked her reclaimed status. Her voice was firm, yet her eyes sought mine with a complicity only we shared.

“I’m trying,” I murmured back. “But it feels like everyone here is waiting for me to trip just so they can start laughing.”

“Let them try,” Chloé growled softly. “Their necks are far too fragile for that much laughter.”

The sound of silver trumpets cut through any lingering conversation. The heavy oak doors closed, and King William advanced toward the dais with a face carved from stone. Behind him, the heralds prepared for the protocol.

An elderly man stepped forward, dressed in embroidered robes that seemed to weigh more than he did. He carried a parchment that looked endless. He was the Kingdom’s Chancellor—the man tasked with reminding everyone why we were here.

“Hear all!” His voice, amplified by a resonance spell, filled every corner of the hall. “On this day of grace, before the eyes of the gods and under the gaze of King William of Whirikal, a new order of protection is established. To understand the magnitude of this act, we must first recall the pillars of our society.”

The Chancellor paused theatrically, surveying the assembled nobles who watched us with a mixture of envy and disdain.

“Our pyramid of honor begins at the base with the Barons, lords of the frontier lands and guardians of our rural peace. Above them stand the Viscounts and Counts, administrators of our cities and the nerves of our economy. Higher still are the Marquesses, lords of the military marches, and the Dukes—the pillars of ancient blood, whose authority is surpassed only by the royal family.”

A murmur of pride rippled through the front rows, where the Dukes, clad in furs and jewels, puffed out their chests. The Chancellor continued, his tone growing heavier.

“But today, the King invokes a position left vacant since the Wars of Foundation. A rank not born of land ownership, but of direct sovereignty from the monarch. The rank of Supreme Guardian of the Lineage.”

The silence that followed was absolute. I saw several nobles exchange looks of confusion and alarm.

“This rank,” the Chancellor explained, fixing his gaze directly on the Dukes, “stands hierarchically above any duchy in the realm. It answers to no council, no feudal law, no provincial governor. Its authority flows from the Throne, and its word is the will of the Princess Heir. Within the structure of Whirikal, only the King and Queen stand above this office.”

I felt the ground vanish beneath my feet. Leah hadn’t lied—she was giving me authority—but this was… this was a political declaration of war. She was making me the most powerful person in the kingdom after her parents.

“Liselotte,” King William called. His voice was thunder given command.

I stepped forward, my boots echoing against the marble. I knelt before him, my heart pounding against my ribs. Chloé knelt a step behind me.

“Liselotte, woman of valor and bearer of the Eternal Ice,” William said as he drew the ceremonial sword of Whirikal. The blade gleamed with a white light that made my eyes sting. “You have protected what I failed to protect. You have walked through shadows that would make my generals tremble. Do you accept the weight of this charge? Do you accept being the shield that never falters and the sword that never rests?”

I lifted my gaze. I saw Leah at his side, nodding with absolute confidence. Then I looked back at William.

“I accept, Your Majesty,” I said—and my voice sounded steadier than I expected.

William placed the flat of the blade on my left shoulder. “By the power granted by the ancient gods and the blood of Whirikal, I name you Supreme Guardian of Princess Leah. Your word shall be law in her presence. Your steel shall be her justice. Whoever rises against you rises against the Throne itself.”

The King withdrew the sword and motioned for me to stand. Then he turned to face the assembled nobles.

“Let this be clear,” William said, his gaze settling on Duke Aris, pale with fury in the front row. “Liselotte is not noble by blood, but her authority surpasses that of any of you. She requires none of your permission to act. She needs none of your lands. She is Whirikal.”

The Chancellor spoke again. “Salute the Supreme Guardian!”

A thunderous clash of spear butts against the floor filled the cathedral. It was a display of force, not affection. I knew that, in that moment, I had become the focal point of every intrigue in the palace.

When the ceremony ended and the crowd began to disperse toward the banquet, Leah hurried to my side, slipping an arm around me as we walked toward the private gardens.

“It’s official now,” she whispered with a radiant smile. “No one can touch you anymore, Lotte. If a count tries to give you orders, you can throw him into the dungeons for contempt.”

“That sounds dangerously fun, Leah,” I replied, letting out a breath of relief as we stepped into the open air. “But it worries me. The dukes looked ready to spit at me. You just told them that some ‘adventurer from nowhere’ outranks them and their thousand-year lineages.”

Chloé, walking on my other side and fiddling with her new silver gauntlets, snorted. “Let them try. Anyone who has a problem with your rank can discuss it with my claws. I’ve noticed respect grows quickly when blood is involved.”

“That won’t be necessary… I hope,” Leah said, though her expression turned serious. “Lotte, I gave you this rank because I know the nobles will try to use me now that I’ve returned. They’ll want to marry me to their sons, influence my decisions, ‘protect’ me so they can control me. As Supreme Guardian, you’re the wall between them and me. You’re the only person my father trusts to filter who gets close.”

“I understand,” I murmured, glancing back at the castle. “It’s a political position, after all.”

“It’s a position of absolute trust,” Leah corrected, stopping by a fountain. “In Whirikal, ranks are sacred. A Duke has power over his lands and armies, but you have power over the very structure of the palace. You can enter any council meeting, veto visitors, and—most importantly—you have direct access to the royal treasury for any mission you deem necessary.”

I fell silent, thoughtful. It was a terrifying amount of power.

“And what about the other knights?” I asked. “The Royal Guard?”

“They answer to the Captain General,” Leah explained. “But the Captain General must now coordinate with you when it concerns my safety. In essence, I’ve made you my legal right hand.”

At that moment, I spotted a pair of nobles speaking in hushed tones near the rose bushes. They were the same ones the King had ordered investigated: Duke Aris and Count Valerius. When they saw us, they fell silent at once and offered a bow so exaggerated it was insulting.

“Congratulations, ‘Lady’ Liselotte,” Aris said, spitting the word lady like poison. “A meteoric rise. I hope your sword skills are as sharp as your ambition.”

Chloé stepped forward, baring her fangs, but I placed a hand on her shoulder.

“My sword skills were sharp enough to keep the princess alive while you were sitting comfortably on silk cushions,” I replied coldly. “And according to the protocol just read aloud, I believe your bow should be a little deeper before someone who carries the authority of the King.”

Duke Aris clenched his teeth, his face flushing red. For a second, I thought he might say something that would send him straight to the gallows—but Valerius tugged at his sleeve.

“Of course, Guardian,” Aris hissed, bowing again—this time properly. “Forgive our… lack of habit.”

They walked away quickly. Leah looked at me with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile.

“Well then. It seems you’re already getting the hang of the position.”

“I’m just following Chloé’s advice,” I joked, though my heart was still racing. “Respect is earned—but a bit of legal authority helps speed up the process.”

We walked on until we reached a quieter corner of the garden, where Claire waited for us, seated on a bench and wearing a dress she clearly hated but that made her look like the sister of a high-ranking ruler.

“Sister!” Claire exclaimed, running toward me. “I heard what the Chancellor said! You’re more important than a Duke! Does that mean I can ask for extra sweets from the kitchen without getting scolded?”

I laughed and lifted her into my arms. “It means you can do almost whatever you want, Claire—but try not to burn the castle down by accident.”

“I promise nothing,” she replied, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

Leah stepped closer and rested a hand on my shoulder, gazing toward the horizon where the mountains of Whirikal rose in quiet majesty. The afternoon sun was beginning to set, painting everything in deep red hues.

“Tomorrow we truly begin, Lotte,” Leah said softly. “My father wants you to review the intelligence reports on the breaches. As Supreme Guardian, you’ll also be in charge of any investigative expedition involving the Crown’s security. We’re no longer hunting monsters for money—we’re doing it to protect our home.”

“I’m ready,” I replied.

I looked around me—at Leah, who had reclaimed her identity; at Chloé, who finally had a place where she wasn’t a pariah; and at Claire, who was safe. For the first time in a long while, the label adventurer felt too small. I was no longer someone merely passing through the world.

Now, I was the shadow of the throne. And anything that wished to harm Leah would first have to cross the eternal ice of my will.

“Let’s go to the banquet,” I said, feeling the weight of the silver insignia on my chest. “I’m curious to see the looks on the nobles’ faces when I sit at the royal family’s table.”

Leah let out a bright, ringing laugh. “They’re going to choke on their pheasant, Lotte. I guarantee it.”

And as we walked back toward the palace, under the gaze of a thousand eyes hidden behind curtains, I knew this was only the beginning of a far greater struggle. But for today, the ice felt warm.

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