Princess Elain of LysaraThere is something you should know before I get started.I am a princess.Yes—our country is small. Nothing compared to the Dominion of Vera or the great inland powers. And no, my home kingdom of Lysara does not field the legions it once did. We are no longer conquerors in the way history records so eagerly. Time and treaties have reduced our military footprint, reclassified us as a second-tier kingdom, and wrapped us in the language of stability and cooperation.But Lysara has existed for over a thousand years.We have been conquerors. We have been conquered. We have survived both—the shame of conquering and the dishonor of being conquered.Our people are still proud. Still disciplined. Still dangerously capable on an individual level. We teach restraint, yes—but never helplessness. We do not fear our shadows. We do not fear darkness. And we do not look away when evil chooses to wear a human face.I wish I could say the same for the leaders of the Dominion of Vera.If justice mattered today, there would be no celebration.There would be arrests, followed by interrogations, and then executions of evil men who perpetuated evil acts.There would be lists drawn up and names crossed out—those responsible for threatening children, for orchestrating terror under the cover of politics, for treating innocent lives as leverage and acceptable losses.Instead, we were given music.The parade rolled through Lumineth like a fever dream. Marching bands in polished uniforms filled the streets with thunderous rhythm, brass instruments catching sunlight as if sound itself were meant to dazzle us into forgetting. Spell-lit banners rippled overhead, illusion magic layered over fabric so deeply that the colors seemed to breathe. Dancers in frilled skirts and low-cut tops leapt and spun ahead of the floats, laughter rehearsed, smiles sharpened into something (...)