Ironveil had fallen.

  Not by siege.

  Not by fire.

  Not by overwhelming force.

  It had collapsed from within.

  And now, its Lord knelt before Selene.

  ---

  The moment had come sooner than expected.

  Mirrors had done his work well.

  Garrick had led the first wave of rebellion, but by the time Blackwell realized what was happening, it was too late.

  Half his men had turned on him.

  The rest had been paralyzed by uncertainty.

  Some had tried to fight.

  Some had simply walked away.

  But in the end, no one had truly fought for him.

  Because loyalty was not built on fear alone.

  And without true loyalty, a Lord was nothing.

  ---

  Selene stood on the battlements of Ironveil, golden eyes watching the aftermath.

  The city had not burned.

  It had simply changed hands.

  Without bloodshed.

  Without destruction.

  Because the moment Garrick and his men had opened the gates, the remaining forces had surrendered.

  And Blackwell?

  He had done the same.

  ---

  He knelt before her now, his head bowed, his armor still dusted with the remnants of his failure.

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  Selene regarded him calmly.

  “Lord Blackwell,” she said smoothly. “You understand what this means.”

  Blackwell’s jaw tightened.

  His fists were clenched.

  But he did not resist.

  “I do.”

  Selene tilted her head slightly.

  “And yet,” she mused, “you did not take your own life.”

  Blackwell flinched.

  Some Lords, when faced with complete and utter defeat, would choose death over submission.

  He had not.

  Which meant he still wanted something.

  Interesting.

  ---

  She let the silence stretch.

  Then, finally, Blackwell spoke.

  “I was a fool.”

  Selene remained still, watching him.

  “I thought that if I played it safe, if I fortified, if I avoided unnecessary wars, I would survive.”

  His hands clenched into fists.

  “But you cannot simply survive in this world. Can you?”

  Selene’s lips curved slightly.

  “No,” she said.

  “You cannot.”

  Blackwell exhaled.

  “I see that now.”

  A pause.

  Then he lifted his head slightly, meeting her gaze.

  “And so I kneel.”

  Selene raised a brow.

  “Not just in surrender,” he said.

  “In service.”

  ---

  There was a ripple of surprise among the watching vassals and Fae Lords.

  Selene’s own expression did not change.

  “You wish to swear yourself to me?” she asked.

  Blackwell nodded.

  “I have seen what happens to those who fight against you,” he said.

  A pause.

  Then, more carefully—

  “And I have seen what happens to those who serve you.”

  Selene studied him.

  “You assume I will accept.”

  Blackwell’s jaw tightened.

  “You would be a fool not to.”

  For the first time, a low chuckle escaped Selene’s lips.

  ---

  The gathered court was silent, waiting.

  Foxes was watching with sharp amusement.

  Oaths was unreadable.

  Dominion looked bored.

  Strategy observed with keen interest.

  Even Duskwind and Fenric had nothing to say.

  Because this was not how Lords surrendered.

  They begged.

  They pleaded.

  They swore oaths under duress.

  But Blackwell?

  He was surrendering not as a broken man, but as a strategist who saw no other viable path.

  He had accepted that he could not win.

  And so, he had chosen to serve the one who had already won.

  Selene considered him.

  Then, slowly, she extended a hand.

  ---

  Blackwell hesitated only for a second.

  Then he took it.

  A binding of service.

  Not through force.

  Not through fear.

  But through understanding.

  “You belong to me now,” Selene said softly.

  And Blackwell did not argue.

  Because he already had.

  And he had lost.

  ---

  The next few hours were spent restructuring Ironveil.

  Garrick, now the official commander of the city’s forces, ensured that those who remained were loyal.

  Some men had fled.

  Some had chosen exile over submission.

  But the rest?

  The rest had sworn themselves to Selene’s banner.

  Ironveil was no longer Blackwell’s.

  It was hers.

  ---

  As the night settled over the city, Selene stood on the castle’s highest tower, watching the flickering lights below.

  Ironveil had not been conquered through war.

  It had been conquered through certainty.

  She had never needed to raise her hand against it.

  She had simply ensured it fell into place.

  And now, with Blackwell at her side, she had gained more than a city.

  She had gained an asset.

  A man who had already played the game of survival—and lost.

  Now, he would learn what it meant to survive under her rule.

  And if he ever forgot…

  She would remind him.

  Because Selene did not rule through fear.

  She ruled through inevitability.

  And no one—not Blackwell, not the other Lords, not even the System itself—

  Could stop what was coming.