The days did not slow. They moved with a strange urgency, as though the world itself refused to wait for Maria to be found.
From the far edges of the kingdoms, wardens and lords began arriving in Snowland, one after another, their banners cutting through the cold air as they approached the great castle. Horses stamped against the frozen ground, armor clinked, voices carried across the courtyards. What should have been a gathering of celebration felt off.
Too many questions. Not enough answers.
Inside the halls, servants rushed back and forth, preparing chambers, arranging feasts that no one seemed eager to eat. Every corner held whispers. Every passing glance carried suspicion.
Still, no message came. No sightings. No trace. Maria had vanished into the sea as though it had swallowed her whole.
By evening, the tension could no longer be contained. The great hall filled with lords from across the kingdoms, their presence heavy, their patience thin. They sat in long rows, cloaks draped over their shoulders, eyes fixed toward the front where the throne stood waiting.
Robert stepped forward. There was no smile this time. He stood tall, but something in him had shifted. His shoulders carried weight that had not been there before. When he spoke, his voice did not boom with pride. It dragged slightly.
"My lords," he began. The hall quieted. "I regret to announce to you all that Lady Maria, my beloved betrothed, has been kidnapped."
The words landed unevenly. For a heartbeat, silence held.
Then the murmurs came. Low at first, like wind slipping through cracks, then louder, spreading across the hall as men leaned toward one another, voices overlapping.
"Kidnapped?"
"Impossible."
"By who?"
One lord shook his head slowly. "Lady Maria is no ordinary woman. She is a warrior. You do not simply take her."
Another leaned closer, voice edged with doubt. "Unless she allowed herself to be taken."
The whispers thickened. Robert stood still through it all, his jaw tightening, his gaze hardening as the noise pressed against him. Then he raised his hand.
The hall fell quiet again. "We are doing all we can," he said, his voice firmer now, forcing control back into place, "to ascertain who is behind her abduction and to retrieve her."
No one interrupted this time. But the doubt did not disappear. It lingered in their eyes.
Then Robert spoke again. "In light of this,the wedding is hereby postponed until further notice."
There it was. The thing no one had wanted to hear. A ripple moved through the hall, heavier than before. Some faces tightened. Others remained unreadable. A few exchanged looks that said more than words could.
Robert did not wait. He turned and walked away, his steps sharp, controlled, but the anger sat plainly on his face now. Not hidden. Not softened.
Just there.
The next morning, the sea carried Maria closer to Cliffland.
The winds had shifted overnight, pushing their ship forward with quiet persistence. The waters were calmer here, but the air felt different, and watchful.
It did not take long. Shapes appeared on the horizon. Fast. Closing in.
"Sea warriors," one of the girls whispered. Before anyone could react, the ships of Ashford had already surrounded them, cutting off every direction. Their movements were precise, practiced. No hesitation.
"A Woodland ship!" one of the warriors shouted from across the water.
Weapons were raised.."Attack them!" the commander barked. The tension snapped tight. But before the first strike could land, Maria stepped forward.
She moved past the others without rushing, her steps steady, her expression unchanged. In her hand, she raised a white flag, the fabric catching the wind as it lifted high above her.
The signal was clear: peace.
The warriors hesitated. Not for long, but enough. "Who are you?" the commander called out, his voice sharp. "And where are you headed?"
Maria did not lower the flag. "I am Maria Woodland," she said, her voice carrying across the water. "I am here to swear fealty to the true heir to the Golden Throne."
That did it. The hesitation broke into confusion. The warriors turned to one another, exchanging looks that carried disbelief more than anything else.
"That is not possible," the commander snapped. "If you are Maria, then you are Edmond's sister and Robert's fiancée. That makes you an enemy."
Maria shook her head slowly. "I am not here on behalf of Edmond or Robert," she said. "I am here for myself. For what I believe is right."
The commander studied her. Longer this time. His eyes moved over her stance, her calm, the absence of fear that should have been there.
"Your loyalty is not needed by the prince," he said at last. A faint smile touched Maria's lips. "Let the prince decide that."
Another pause.
The sea moved quietly around them. Then the commander exhaled and gave a short nod. "Alright," he said. "Drop your weapons."
Maria did not turn immediately. She held his gaze for a moment longer, then looked back at her girls.
"Lay down your weapons." There was no argument. One by one, blades hit the deck. Spears followed. The sound of metal against wood echoed softly, final in a way that felt heavier than expected.
The Ashford warriors moved quickly, boarding the ship, gathering every weapon without leaving a single one behind.
No mistakes. No chances. Then they took control.
The ships were redirected, guided firmly toward Cliffland's shore. From there, Maria and her companions were not given time to rest. They were led straight from the docks, through winding paths and rising stone, into the heart of the stronghold.
Into the throne room. The doors opened. All eyes turned. Drexo stood.
The moment he saw her, something in him reacted before he could stop it. His body shifted forward slightly, instinct pulling him toward her, but he didn't move.
He couldn't. Too many eyes were in the hall.
"Who are these?" Havana asked, her voice cutting through the silence. The commander stepped forward. "She claims to be Lady Maria Woodland."
The words settled into the room. Silence stretched. Then Havana let out a soft breath.
"That is not possible," she said. "Maria Woodland is the fiancée of Robert and sister to Edmond. She would not dare set foot in Cliffland."
Theon cleared his throat. "She is who she claims she is."
Friya nodded. "I know her," she said. "The warrior who defeated all knights at the tournament." Her gaze stayed on Maria. "She is Maria Woodland."
Havana's eyes narrowed slightly as she observed her.
Then she smiled. Slowly.
"I guess you are tired of living," she said, her voice almost amused, "and decided to gift your head to my sword."
Maria did not react. "I didn't come here to get killed." Havana's expression hardened, the amusement fading. "Then why are you here?"
Maria met her gaze fully. "I am here to swear fealty to Prince Drexo Dragarian, the true heir to the Golden Throne."
For a second, nothing happened. Then laughter broke out. Sharp, and disbelieving.
It came from behind. All heads turned.
Lord Fabio Kenwool stepped forward, his expression twisted with mockery. He laughed again, but it didn't last long. He cut it short himself, shaking his head as he looked at her.
"You must think us fools," he said. He began walking toward her, slow, deliberate steps echoing against the stone floor.
"Why would you," he continued, "who was about to sit beside Robert as his queen, sail all the way here to kneel before Drexo?"
He stopped just a few steps away. His gaze sharpened. "I will advise we kill them immediately," he said, his voice turning cold. "They were sent here by our enemies."
He pointed at her. "She is the enemy." Havana did not hesitate. She did not debate. She did not question further.
"Kill them all." The words left her mouth cleanly.