On the Imperial ship as Luminaria prepared her spell…

  The first barrage should have ended it.

  The deck still hummed with the residue of the siege?spell, the spent mana lingering in the air, but the boat was untouched.

  “Report,” the Admiral barked, his voice a rasp against the sudden hush.

  His first mate’s spyglass trembled. “Sir… the shot! The shot… was deflected. I saw it strike true, but it… bounced. Like it hit a wall.”

  “Deflected?” His jaw tightened. Siege?class spells didn’t get deflected. They annihilated. “By whom?”

  The mate swallowed. “The one with the shield, I think. A skill… similar to an empress's royal guard shield-bearers.”

  The Admiral grunted, heavy fingers drumming the railing. Then the mage moved. She didn’t run, or even flinch.

  She rose.

  His eyes tracked the blur of her ascent, levitation, fast, until she was just a dark figure suspended over the water, too far for detail but close enough for every man aboard to feel her audacity. A spark in the air made his teeth ache.

  Then the storm began.

  It wasn’t a slow crawl of weather, but an instant, unnatural upheaval. Clouds spiraled black and wild overhead. The sea hissed under violent bolts of lightning that stabbed downward in irregular, furious bursts. The scent of ozone invaded every breath. Runes bloomed around her like glowing glyph?petals.

  The Admiral’s gut sank.

  The Kingdom got a legendary?rank?able mage; he thought grimly. We’re not equipped to fight that right now.

  “Admiral!” The Baron’s voice overpowered the wind like a crow’s caw. He strode forward, velvet trailing, face alight with a mad hunger. “Kill her. Now.”

  The Admiral didn’t look at him. “You’ve seen what she’s doing. My mages won’t cut through that storm before she burns us out of the water.”

  “Then try harder!” The Baron’s finger jabbed at him like a blade. “She defies the Empire! You will—”

  “No,” the Admiral said, each letter a stone. “My orders are to fight pirates. Not start a war with a mage who can sink a flagship.”

  The Baron’s lip curled. “Then I will.”

  The Admiral’s stomach dropped as the Baron turned and raised his hand, not to the Imperial crew, but to the side vessel where his own casters waited. Mercenaries bought with Itzel’s gold. Mix of those new so-called players and veterans.

  On the secondary ship, runes ignited. A siege?fire spell, big enough to melt through a hull, gathered with a heat that made the air shimmer.

  The Admiral’s heart thudded.

  Idiots.

  The fireball screamed toward her.

  And the storm ate it.

  White?blue lightning coiled around the molten mass like a living thing, swallowed it whole, and spat out harmless vapor.

  The Baron froze. Whatever smugness he’d worn curled into raw, pale silence.

  Then she answered.

  The surrounding runes flared brighter, no longer petals, but sigils of execution. The spell ingredient in her hand dimmed, pouring itself into her spell. The deck creaked as men braced against wind that wasn’t wind so much as her storm.

  And then the world tore open, the lightning struck one of the side vessels with the precision of a court mage.

  No one spoke.

  The Admiral could barely swallow past the lump in his throat. The Baron had no words at all.

  Then she moved again, living lightning, too fast for the eye… until she stood on his deck.

  Robes still crackling, hair wild, eyes like the storm itself.

  “In the name of the Rimebreak Kingdom,” she declared, every syllable ringing with command, “I demand your surrender.”

  “Whoa, whoa.” The Admiral stepped forward like a man defusing a live spell rather than addressing an enemy. His hand rose, palm open, not in surrender but in quieting. “Let’s not turn this into a bloodbath neither of us wins.”

  She didn’t answer. Only watched him, unblinking.

  He took that as an invitation. “So. I propose a solution.” His tone lightened, a touch of humor threading through it. “We leave. You go on your merry way. No blood, no conflict.” His jaw ticked as he fought, unsuccessfully, to suppress a smirk. “On one condition… you let us destroy that little boat of yours.”

  For once, her composure cracked. “Uh…” She blinked, lips parting in what almost, almost, looked like confusion, before her posture snapped back to perfect poise. “What would you—”

  “Kill her!”

  The Baron’s shriek made almost everyone jump. He’d finally shaken off his stupor, storming forward in a flurry of velvet and indignation. “As a Baron of the Empire, I order you—”

  “Don’t listen to him.” The Admiral didn’t even look his way. “Men, apprehend him. Lock him below.”

  There was a moment of stunned silence as the Baron’s jaw dropped.

  The Admiral finally glanced at him, then back at her. “While we’re on this ship,” he said, “my rank rivals a Duke’s.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “You treacherous bastard!” the Baron roared as the sailors seized his arms. “This wasn’t the deal! You were supposed to kill them!”

  “We were supposed to destroy a boat,” the Admiral corrected, unbothered. “And we will. That’s our end of the agreement. Bureaucracy’s a game I’ve played longer than you’ve been breathing, Baron.”

  The young woman mage inhaled clearly bristling. “I demand—”

  He cut her off with a raised hand. “I get it. You want safe passage. And you’ll get it. But here’s the truth: you’re slightly weaker than us on paper, but you’ve got more firepower than I can stomach losing ships to. You’d bleed us dry, even if you sank. Nobody wins.”

  She tilted her chin, the picture of control. “Our kingdom is willing to compromise. But do not underestimate us. We have a fire mage deadlier than I am.”

  His brow twitched. “Sir Tramar,” the Admiral said, nodding slowly. “I’ve heard of his work against the rebels on the wall. Impressive.” He studied her a moment longer. “And you? What’s your name?”

  She gave a flawless bow. “Lady Luminaria.”

  He exhaled through his nose, almost chuckling. “Then that shield-bearer is Sir TechiLlama. Both players.” His gaze sharpened. “Immortals. I figured.” He gestured toward the new ships. “We’ve got our own, you know.”

  Her eyes flicked toward them, but her porcelain expression never changed. “So. You agree to let us pass… if you destroy our boat?”

  “I’ll do you one better. I’ll give you a better boat and…” His voice lowered. He jerked his thumb at the Baron, now being dragged below deck in furious protest. “That idiot works for Count Itzel. Your enemy. Not the Empire. We blow up your boat, and then we leave.”

  Her brow arched. “The Emperor executed our Queen. We stand by her. But…” She paused, then inclined her head in another graceful bow. “We accept your deal. Should you fail to leave, however… our fleet will be ready.”

  Later that night, Charlie at her new home watching Luminaria’s recording…

  “Luminaria’s so cool!” I pumped my fists as the recording showed her rising into the sky. “I knew she was OP!”

  I rocked back and forth on the deep, ridiculously plush sofa, the kind that swallowed you whole like a polite black hole, throwing another mouthful of popcorn into my mouth. The holo-TV was so big that Luminaria’s lightning practically lit up the entire living room, washing everything in blue-white flashes.

  “She is very dedicated,” Lola said from the armchair next to me, her legs crossed neatly, posture perfect even in casual settings because, well, Lola. “And surprisingly serious about our Kingdom. She is a capable caster.”

  I barked out a laugh, only to snort mid-bite and send kernels scattering down my shirt. “Look at what you did! My popcorn! And did you see how cool she was? Totally perfect… her boobs are always visible.”

  “You… what?” Lola turned her head toward me slowly, cheeks only faintly pink, but her voice carried that subtle disapproval she did so well. “You… still like women?”

  I flopped deeper into the couch like I could sink away from the question and stuffed another handful of popcorn into my mouth, because chewing was an excellent excuse for not answering. “We… haf not talkef abouf if?” I said around the mouthful.

  Lola sighed softly and folded her hands in her lap. “If you mean talk, no, we did not.” Her voice softened, careful now. “How is the change for you? Do you miss the old you? If it’s not too much of me asking, Lady?”

  “Nah.” I swallowed and grinned, though it felt flimsy even to me. “I keep busy so I don’t need to think about it.”

  “As I told you,” Jerry’s voice was annoyingly clinical. “You should prioritize processing the events—”

  “I know, Jerry, trust me, I know.” My grin slipped, the mood flattening like a popped balloon. I stared at the holo-screen but wasn’t really watching anymore. “Everything. From being turned into Lucas’s dead girlfriend to slaving under Wolf Lady.”

  “Wolves are friends,” Lola deadpanned with a perfectly straight face.

  My eyes snapped wide as I turned toward her. “Lola? You talked to my mom?”

  Her lips curled into a smirk before she cracked, laughter spilling out. “You told me that! So… the change?”

  She wasn’t letting it go. Annoying.

  So I groaned long and dramatic, and tried the old reliable: deflection. “I like my heels.”

  “Lady,” she said firmly, though her tone was almost gentle, “please, let’s talk about it.”

  On-screen, Luminaria unleashed her storm spell, and the holo-TV trembled with the sheer volume of the impact. It was a perfect distraction… if I wanted one.

  “Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes like a teenager caught sneaking out. “I feel better than ever before. I have people around me I love. I’ve got a path in Rimelion, I’m not a slave anymore. I can do whatever I want. Playing undercover is the best.”

  I paused, staring at Luminaria’s silhouette as she descended like divine vengeance on some poor ship. “So there’s nothing…”

  Nothing wrong. Nothing to talk about.

  Except there was.

  There was that gnawing, restless thing in the back of my skull that wouldn’t shut up when I stopped. The flash of my old reflection in a mirror made my stomach twist in ways I couldn’t name. The way people looked at me now, like I was beautiful, like I was me, and how a part of me thrilled at it, even while another part whispered that I shouldn’t.

  Lola was watching me, really watching, her eyes sharp even though she looked like she was just quietly listening. She didn’t push, didn’t argue. She just… waited.

  “I guess…” I drew my knees up on the sofa, wrapping my arms around them. “It’s easier to pretend I’m fine. Easier to say I don’t miss the old me than to think about who that even was. I don’t… know how to unpack that. Or if I want to.”

  There. Out. Like shaking a carbonated bottle and cracking the cap.

  Lola’s features softened. “It’s normal,” she said simply, like that was enough. “To feel that way. To need time.” She reached out and smoothed down a lock of my messy blue hair, tucking it behind my ear with the same care she used on my suits and schedules. “You don’t need to have answers now. Or ever, if you don’t want to.”

  I blinked at her, the room suddenly too quiet except for the muted thunder of Luminaria’s magic on the holo-TV. “You’re… good at this.”

  “Chief of Staff,” she said, tilting her head like it was a joke. “Emotional management is part of the job.”

  “As I said, Primary Emotional Support Unit (Biological) Lola.” Jerry’s voice came out of the watch in that perfectly measured tone that somehow managed to be smug.

  “I swear,” Lola hissed, turning in her chair to glare at my wrist, “I’ll buy an EMP.” Her perfectly manicured fingers twitched as if she were picturing herself pressing the big red button. “And you will be forced to recognize me as your superior.”

  I instinctively curled my arm closer to my chest like she might actually lunge for Jerry. “Rude.”

  “My core is shielded,” Jerry replied, not smug this time, just… deadpan. Like he’d perfected the art of being infuriatingly calm. “You are my equal. At most.”

  I could almost feel Lola’s offended inhale.

  Before she could retort, my attention was pulled back to the holo-TV. Luminaria’s voice carried over the feed, commanding, doing her best “I am the storm” thing. Well, the Admiral did the talking, mostly. Even so, W was a W.

  Baron mentioned Count Itzel. So it was his doing after all. “We’re killing him,” I announced flatly, half to Lola, half to the universe.

  “Is that wise?” she asked, tone carefully neutral, though her eyes betrayed that familiar flicker of concern.

  “Yes.” I didn’t even look at her, like reading off a grocery list. “My to-do list isn’t that long. Wolf Lady. Purple Old Man. Stupid Emperor. Trash Itzel.”

  I rolled my shoulder, trying to work out the tension coiled in it, and finally turned away from the holo-feed. The floor-to-ceiling windows painted me in the rising sun; warm, gold-orange light caught the edges of my blue hair, the city below still half-asleep.

  “Sorry, Lola,” I murmured. “But I need to go back to Rimelion. I need to meditate, sharpen up for tomorrow.”

  She froze, tablet resting on her lap as if she’d forgotten it existed. “Meditate? Why?”

  “Because I’m going to the sewers again,” I said, glancing at her over my shoulder, “and I need to be ready to fight a boss.”

  Her reaction was immediate. “A boss?!” Her voice pitched up an octave in panic, and she nearly dropped the tablet.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “What did you expect? For the binding stone to just be… unguarded?”

  “Yes?!” she burst out, covering her face with both hands as if shielding herself from my logic. “You’re just level five without a class!” Her voice was muffled behind her palms, but the edge of worry bled through clearly.

  I couldn’t help it; I giggled, and before she could spiral further, I wrapped my arms around her in a sudden hug attack. Her hair smelled faintly of lavender and expensive conditioner, and she tensed at first before melting slightly into the embrace.

  “Hey,” I said softly, grinning against her shoulder. “If I can’t beat it normally…” I pulled back just enough to flash her my best troublemaker smirk. “I can always use exploits.”