Page 3 of Warrior Princess
His gaze was intense as he took in my disheveled, frantic appearance.
“Ronan, now is not the time,” my father scolded, waving a dismissive hand towards one of the warriors at the door to remove me.
“Wait,” the demon fox intervened, his voice deep and resonant. He raised a hand, halting the warrior’s advance. “Who is this?”
My father cleared his throat, a hint of embarrassment coloring his tone. “Apologies, Shiro. This is my son, Ronan. He won’t cause any more interruptions, I promise.”
Shiro, the demon fox, shook his head slowly, his fiery eyes locking with mine as a spark of recognition—or was it empathy?—flickered within. “No. Let him stay,” he commanded, a subtleauthority underlying his words. His gaze held mine unblinking, as if he saw right through to the core of my turmoil.
My father appeared visibly agitated, his eyes darting anxiously between Shiro and me, his carefully laid plans unraveling before him. “He has no business here—” he began, but Shiro swiftly cut him off.
“I think he haseveryright to be here. Do you agree, Ronan?” Shiro’s gaze pierced the tension in the room, directly addressing me.
I swallowed, feeling the dryness in my throat tighten. “Yes. I do.”
“Very well,” Shiro replied, his gaze finally shifting from mine to address my father once again. “Chief Aryan, you have summoned me with the blood of the moon goddess. Where is she now?”
My father's brow furrowed in discomfort. “We left her in the cave... Her body will be returned to Valoria,” he explained, nervously clearing his throat. “Valoria might declare war over this, so we must prepare.”
Shiro tilted his head thoughtfully. “Is that so? And you hope to use your single wish to defeat them?”
A sly grin spread across my father’s face. “Yes,” he said with a surge of confidence. “But ourtrueaim is to defeat Keldara. They have enslaved our people for over a century. It's time we liberated them.”
Shiro turned his probing gaze back to me. “Do you agree?” he inquired. “Is this your wish?”
My father's eyes locked onto mine, sending a piercing glare that conveyed his expectations clearly—he wanted me to publicly support his plan to sacrifice Leila's life for the greater good of the Crimson Clan. The room held its breath as the elders' expectant eyes drilled into me, echoing the same demand.
“Ro,” Silas whispered urgently from behind me. “Ro, he’s waiting.”
Facing Shiro again, I steeled my resolve. “No,” I declared firmly. “That isnotmy wish.”
Shiro's lips twitched into a smirk. “And what is your wish?”
“Bring her back,” I asserted without hesitation. “Bring Leila back to life.”
“Ronan!” My father’s shout echoed across the hall as the elders rose, their voices a cacophony of dissent. He stormed across the room and seized my shirt. “Don't you dare!” he hissed, his teeth clenched in fury. “Our people's lives are at stake!”
I shoved his hands away, stepping back to put distance between us. “So is Leila's! You promised—”
“Onlyyouwould believe such a blatant lie,” he retorted bitterly. “Even Princess Lyanna knew I was deceiving her. She went to her death aware she wouldn't return. She made peace with it. Don't let her sacrifice be in vain.”
I shook my head, my resolve unwavering. “No. I don't care. I promised to protect her, and that's exactly what I intend to do.”
“Ronan—” my father began, his voice strained with desperation, but Shiro interrupted him with a clear, authoritative throat-clearing.
“Chief Aryan, I dislike being misled. I was under the impression that this wish was unclaimed, given that Princess Lyanna willingly sacrificed herself. But now, here stands your son, pleading to save the life of the woman he loves. Is my understanding correct?” Shiro's voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of displeasure.
Color crept into my father's cheeks, a flush of embarrassment spreading as he turned to face Shiro, his discomfort palpable. “Well, you see—” he stammered, searching for an explanation.
“Can you tell me the prophecy? What exactly does it state?” Shiro's demand sounded casual, yet his eyes narrowed, suggesting he expected a specific response.
Reluctantly, my father recited the prophecy, his voice bitter. “The first female blood weaver will sacrifice her life to the demon fox. The wish will go to her lover from the Crimson Clan.”
Shiro nodded, his expression unchanging. “And there is only one wish I will ever grant,” he declared, turning his gaze towards me, piercing and direct. “And that is for the life of the descendant of the moon goddess. No other wish shall be granted.”
Relief washed over me so suddenly that my knees buckled. I staggered backward, the weight of the tension lifting all at once. Silas caught me just before I could collapse, his grip steady and reassuring.
“Tell me, Ronan,” Shiro continued, his voice softening slightly. “Does this Princess Lyanna love you in return?”
