The echoes of jubilant cheers still thrummed in the vaulted air when a raw, trembling cry sliced through the throne hall like a blade.
“Randel!”
Every head snapped toward the sound.
Framed by the towering double doors stood a girl. She shoved past two stunned guards as if they were made of mist.
Her sky-blue silk gown was creased and rumpled. Raven-black hair spilled in disarray from what had once been an elegant coiffure. Her cheeks blazed crimson from running.
Yui de Lynn. Daughter of Duke Lynn. Randel’s officially betrothed; an engagement arranged by Tywin himself mere days before the fateful expedition, meant to cement an unbreakable alliance with one of the realm’s most powerful houses.
(Whoa, talk about a dramatic entrance! She’s giving 100 % second-lead heroine energy!)
Amanda’s heart lurched beneath her helm.
Yui ignored the hundreds of staring eyes, flew across the marble floor, and, without slowing, launched herself straight at Randel.
She flung her arms around his neck like an overjoyed child.
“You’re alive! I knew it—I prayed to every god there is!”
Her voice cracked with joy. She pressed frantic, burning kisses to his cheek.
(Oh no, oh no—this is peak romance-drama climax!)
Amanda froze beside him. (…But why does the air suddenly feel dangerous?)
Randel’s body turned to stone in an instant. The one arm not bound by the sling hung limp at his side; he did not return the embrace.
A heartbeat of silence.
Then, with deliberate gentleness yet unmistakable firmness, he closed his fingers around her wrists, peeled her arms from his neck, and stepped half a pace back.
A clean, distancing gesture.
“Yui. Compose yourself.”
His voice was perfectly courteous. And perfectly hollow—like an echo in an abandoned crypt.
“Conduct yourself properly.”
(That’s… arctic. He just gave her the coldest reception imaginable!) Amanda screamed internally. (But wait… this whole situation reeks of incoming storm flags!)
Yui’s movements stilled. Her violet eyes widened as though she’d seen a ghost.
The air in the hall thickened tenfold.
Amanda’s pulse hammered. (Hold on—where did this fiancée even come from?!) In every scrap of “book” memory she possessed, this character had never once been mentioned.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
(How do you miss an entire fiancée?!)
And Randel’s behaviour… The man who had spoken to her moments ago with such searing sincerity was now colder than winter steel.
Yui’s eyes widened further. A wounded spark flickered in those amethyst depths. (Aww, that raw reaction… I almost feel bad for her.)
Yet the next instant, a radiant smile bloomed across her face as if nothing had happened.
She pivoted toward Amanda and dipped into a curtsy—light, calculated, nowhere near as deep as protocol demanded.
“Oh! So you’re the famed ‘Guardian’!” Her voice rang like silver bells. “I heard everything while running here! You saved my Randel!”
She clasped her hands theatrically over her heart.
“You’re a true heroine! My gratitude knows no bounds!”
Her eyes glittered.
“If not for you, I would have died of grief!”
(Those words are so syrupy they’re practically dripping. Cheap romance-novel heroine, activate!) Amanda cringed inwardly. The gratitude sounded rehearsed, shiny candy wrapper with nothing sweet inside. (But this girl… is she scheming, or just naïve? Who is she, really?)
Randel remained silent. His gaze drifted somewhere above Yui’s head, unfocused, as if the entire scene bored him. (That silence is crushing. It’s screaming “romance-route derailment!)
From their elevated seats at the side of the hall, Tywin and Roxana observed with serpentine acuity.
“Hm. The dear fiancée makes her entrance,” Roxana murmured, lips barely moving. Her crimson eyes never left the trio.
“Come to stake her claim on the returned hero. How touching.”
Pure venom dripped from the last word.
Tywin’s stone-carved face did not twitch. “She is playing her part. The ecstatic betrothed welcoming her beloved home—exactly as it should be.”
“As it should be?” Roxana’s lips curled. “Look at your son’s face, Father. To him, she’s an annoying gnat. In those new steel eyes of his… and in that golden creature—” her gaze slid to the motionless Amanda—“something is shattering your precious ‘proper order.’”
Tywin’s eyes flickered, just once.
“Her presence does shift the board,” he admitted, voice like an axe falling. “Yet the alliance with Lynn remains ironclad.”
“We shall see,” Roxana smiled slowly, the smile of a huntress scenting blood. “Whether ‘necessity’ wins, or that incomprehensible force. I, for one, am eager to watch.”
(These backstage political theatre is delicious!)
Meanwhile, Yui appeared entirely unbothered by Amanda’s lack of response. (Girl has nerves of steel—or a fantastic mask.)
She spun back to Randel, showering him with dazzling smiles.
“Darling, you must be exhausted! Come, I’ll have soothing herbal tea prepared at once—”
“Yui.” Randel cut her off, sharp as a blade. His gaze finally landed on her—and turned even harder. “Your concern is noted. But this is not the time.”
He paused, then continued, softer, “I must give Father a full accounting of what transpired. And—” his eyes warmed almost imperceptibly as they moved to Amanda—“our guest requires rest. This is no moment for pleasantries.”
(Whoa, decisive shutdown! He’s completely steamrolling her feelings!)
Yui’s smile froze. The air in the hall stretched until it felt ready to snap.
She bit her lip—only for a heartbeat—yet the smile stayed plastered in place.
“Of course. I understand. But… later? We will speak privately, won’t we?”
Randel offered no reply. He simply looked away.
That silence spoke louder than any refusal.
(Oof, the quiet rejection is brutal!)
A muscle in Yui’s cheek twitched. Her gaze darted to Amanda’s golden armour. Something sharp—jealousy? Fear? Suspicion?—flashed through those violet eyes like lightning, gone as quickly as it came, swallowed again by her perfect smile.
“Very well. As you wish.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper, trembling at the edges. She curtsied once more—stiff, mechanical this time—and then fled the hall as though the hounds of hell nipped at her heels.
In her wake lingered a prickling, uncomfortable tension that promised an oncoming tempest.
Amanda watched the little drama unfold, the earlier weight of duty giving way to a far keener sensation.
Realisation.
Her presence had not merely become a shield.
It had cracked the calm surface of courtly waters wide open.
(God, I’ve stumbled into an insanely complicated game.)
Her heart pounded harder. Was Yui a rival? A pawn? Or—terrifying thought—the true queen of this board?
She didn’t yet know how many tangled threads this story would weave.
But one thing was crystal clear.
She was already standing dead centre in the brewing storm.
And the first move had just been played.