I Was the Stepping Stone novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Commander Alaric Thorne had spent the better part of a year locked in a bitter campaign against the western kingdom.

The war dragged on, victory elusive. And the Empire, weary of bloodshed, began to crumble under its weight.

In a rare gesture of sacrifice, it was Princess Seraphina who stepped forward.

She offered herself to the western kingdom-to marry into the desert throne and forge peace in blood and vows.

And so, on our return from the frontier, we encountered the royal envoy escorting her toward the border.

Silken banners, desert horses, gold embroidery too bright for a land soaked in snow and silence.

Last night, Alaric drank himself into oblivion.

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He believes it’s his fault-that if not for him, she wouldn’t be bound to foreign sands in a cold-blooded treaty.

His face still bears the flush of wine, his gaze blurred and strangely vulnerable beneath the weight of memory.

But if he goes to her now, in this storm…

If something happens between them-whether whispered or real-neither court nor crown would forgive him.

West or East, Empire or desert-either could call it treason.

This is a trap. I feel it in my bones.

Yet when I speak, his temper ignites like oil on flame.

“Then let it be a trap!” he snarled, shaking off my hand.

“We were betrothed once. She was mine long before you ever entered the picture.”

His voice cracked like thunder through the mountain pass.

“The West has mocked our Empire for too long. If the princess is their price-then damn them. I’ll take her back myself.”

So this is it. His defiance, his so-called justice.

A gambit to steal the High Princess from a political marriage and force the Emperor’s hand.

First steal the woman. Then seal the fate.

“You’ve never let her go, have you?” I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue.

“Not once. Not in all these years.”

The look in his eyes said everything I didn’t want to hear.

“I told you,” he said coldly. “Wait for me. Be obedient, and I’ll give you a name. A title.”

A title.

Chapter 2

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As if I were a dog, waiting to be rewarded after he’s done with her.

As if my loyalty were currency, to be spent only when his desire for her was sated.

I saw it then, in his eyes-the fire he held for Seraphina. Not a flicker. A wildfire.

I had spoken of logic. Of diplomacy. Of consequences.

And yet all he saw in me… was petty jealousy.

Nothing like her-his golden princess, a creature of courtly grace and imperial destiny.

He knew my condition.

Knew my blood ran cold, my limbs numbed easily in the snow.

And yet here I stood, dressed in nothing but a thin tunic, left to shiver as he prepared to march into the storm.

Beyond these mountains lay bandits and worse.

But he would go-because she called.

My hands, hidden beneath the folds of my sleeves, clenched so tightly they trembled.

“Then go,” I said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

I rose to my feet, smoothed my cloak, and bowed low.

“The path is steep. The storm relentless. May you find what you seek, my lord… and survive it.”

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