Lahat ng Kabanata ng REVENGE AFTER REBIRTH-THE LORD'S FORSAKEN BRIBE: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

The rain fell hard that night. It washed the city streets clean, but it could not wash away the fear.From my balcony, I watched the drops beat against the marble rails, the sound steady, almost soothing. It was the only thing that felt calm anymore.Cassian joined me quietly. His presence was grounding, a steady warmth beside the storm.“More fires in the lower district,” he said. “Small ones. Controlled. Set to draw attention.”“Distractions,” I murmured.He nodded. “Someone’s testing your reach.”My fingers gripped the balcony edge. “Aria.”Her name left a taste like iron on my tongue.She was clever enough not to strike twice in the same place. Every move she made was meant to confuse, to pull me thin. The people were beginning to question which Valcrest they could trust; the serpent or the flame.Cassian turned to face me, his eyes searching mine. “You can’t keep defending this city alone. Let me take the northern quarter.”I shook my head. “You’re still healing.”“I’ve healed eno

Smoke still hung over the city when the sun broke the horizon. The palace was half a ruin. Stone walls blackened, banners torn, courtyards littered with ash. The east wing still hissed where buckets of water had met the flames. I walked through it slowly, boots crunching over glass and debris. Every few steps a guard bowed his head, ashamed. None of them could look at me for long. Cassian followed close behind. His armor was smeared with soot, his voice rough from shouting orders through the night. “It started in the treasury,” he said. “They poured oil through the vents. Whoever planned this knew the palace better than we did.” “Someone inside,” I answered. “Always someone inside.” I stopped at the doorway to see what had been the record hall. The shelves were gone, nothing left but metal frames and smoke. Centuries of accounts, charters, and bloodlines are all gone. Cassian touched my shoulder. “You should rest.” I shook my head. “No. Rest is what she wants.” By midday,

At first light, the palace yard filled with workers and soldiers. Orders spread, hammers rang, and new walls rose where the old had fallen. The city needed to see motion; stillness would kill it faster than fire. I stood among them, sleeves rolled, helping lift the first beam into place. The guards tried to protest, but I ignored them. Sweat and ash were part of leadership too. Cassian moved beside me, his laugh short but real. “You know this isn’t how queens rebuild.” “Then maybe queens should learn.” By midday, the courtyard smelled no longer of ruin but sawdust and new beginnings. The people who passed through the gates didn’t whisper this time; they bowed their heads with quiet respect. For a moment, the weight eased But later, when the sun dipped and the torches were lit again, a single rider appeared at the gate. His horse was lathered, his cloak torn. He held up a blood-stained scrap of parchment. I took it from him. The writing was rushed, uneven: “They’re coming

The east tower was colder than any dungeon.The stones sweated with dew, the torches sputtered against the damp, and somewhere above, wind howled through a broken slit in the wall.Damien sat in the shadows, wrists bound in iron. His face was bruised, a line of dried blood at the corner of his mouth. The man who had once carried himself like a prince now looked smaller, heavier if guilt had added years he didn’t earn.I stood at the doorway longer than I meant to, watching him breathe.When he finally looked up, his voice was raspy. “I wondered when you’d come.”“I was giving you time to remember who you are,” I said, stepping forward.He laughed under his breath. “That man died when you turned from me.”“No,” I said softly. “He died when you chose Aria.”I pulled a chair closer and sat. The scrape of its legs echoed through the room.We stared at each other, two ghosts of a marriage burned to ash.“You still speak her name like it’s venom,” he said. “But you forget, you and she are m

Morning light spilled through the broken arches, turning puddles into silver pools. He was halfway to the stables when he heard two voices whispering near the guard post.“…found it in the ruins of the vault,” one said.“Then why seal it again?”Cassian slowed his steps. The younger guard noticed him first, eyes wide. “Captain!”“What’s this?” Cassian asked, nodding toward the parcel in the man’s hands.“A letter, sir. Said to have survived the fire. It bears the treasury mark.”He reached for it. The wax was fresh, too fresh, the red too bright, the paper uncharred. Whoever forged it hadn’t realized that real ash leaves scars that never smooth.“Who brought this in?”“A courier from the north gate,” the guard said. “Claimed he was delivering it to the council directly.”Cassian’s gaze hardened. “No one delivers anything to the council without the duchess’s leave. Where’s the courier now?”“Gone, sir. Vanished soon as he handed it over.”Of course. Cassian folded the lette