His Bride, Her Revenge

Chapter 139: The Queen’s Reckoning

Cambria stared at the figure in the doorway, every instinct in her body screaming to run, to attack, to do something but she was rooted to the floor by the sight of Evelyn’s locket hanging from the stranger’s hand.

The air in the obsidian chamber was thick with echoes, as though the mirror’s destruction had left behind fractures in time. Shadows quivered along the walls, but the figure remained perfectly still. Not a tremble. Not a breath.

"Who are you?" Cambria asked, her voice hoarse.

The figure tilted its head slightly. "The better question is: who are you now?"

Her jaw tightened. "Answer me."

The stranger stepped forward, black boots striking the stone floor with a rhythmic finality. As they drew closer, the hood slipped back to reveal a woman’s face smooth, pale, and familiar.

Too familiar.

It was Evelyn. Or someone wearing her face.

Cambria’s heart slammed into her ribs.

"No," she whispered. "You died. I saw the blood. I saw you fall."

The woman smiled faintly, lips tinged with an unnatural shade of red. "You saw what you were meant to see. Just like everything else."

Cambria clenched her fists. "Who are you? Are you... Evelyn?"

"I was," the woman said. "Once. Before the Architect broke me. Before he rebuilt me. Now... I am Eira. His vessel. His voice."

The name echoed through Cambria’s bones like a curse. Eira. The one the ancient texts had whispered about. The Queen of Shadows. The Puppet of the Architect.

Cambria stepped back. "Why are you here?"

Eira’s eyes shimmered with violet light. "To complete the awakening. Your mind has returned, but your power is still fractured. The Architect has chosen. You are to kneel... or you are to be erased."

Cambria’s laugh was sharp, bitter. "I’ve spent my whole life kneeling. Never again."

Lightning cracked across the ceiling, illuminating the chamber in white light. The ground trembled beneath them. Far above, Blackvale’s skies tore further apart.

Eira’s expression didn’t change. "You misunderstand. This isn’t a choice for you to make."

Cambria summoned the pulse of energy inside her, felt it bloom beneath her skin. The ring and the locket might be gone, but their echoes lingered. She raised her hand, fingers glowing.

"Then I’ll make it anyway."

She struck first.

A bolt of golden light seared through the air, but Eira dodged it with terrifying ease, moving faster than thought. Cambria barely twisted aside before Eira’s blade, a sleek black edge of pure energy, sliced past her cheek.

Blood trickled down Cambria’s skin. She ignored it.

They fought.

Light against shadow.

Fire against the void.

Cambria struck with precision, each movement fueled by memories that had finally returned. She remembered the training, the battles, the secrets buried in her muscles. But Eira moved like smoke impossible to pin, harder to read.

Blow after blow clashed. The chamber groaned around them. Statues cracked. Bones shattered. Walls screamed.

Finally, Eira slammed her hand into Cambria’s chest, sending her crashing into the obsidian wall. She gasped, the breath knocked from her lungs.

"This is not your throne to reclaim," Eira hissed, standing over her. "You were a prototype. A failed experiment. The Architect perfected me."

Cambria spat blood. "Then why are you so afraid of me?"

Eira didn’t answer.

Instead, she knelt and pressed the locket into Cambria’s hand. The moment they touched, a wave of memories surged through her. Not hers. Evelyn’s.

A child crying in a lab.

Evelyn is begging to be free.

Being told Cambria had to be sacrificed for the Protocol.

Fighting the Architect’s control. Losing. And then... surrendering.

Cambria jerked back, eyes wide.

"You didn’t choose this," she whispered. "You were taken."

For the first time, Eira’s face flickered. A crack in the mask.

Cambria rose slowly, hand still wrapped around the locket. "We were both used. But I broke free. You can too."

"No," Eira said, shaking her head. "It’s too late for me. But not for you. That’s why I’m here. Not to kill you. To warn you."

Cambria stared. "What?"

Eira’s body shuddered. Her face twisted. She looked... scared.

"The Architect doesn’t want you as a vessel. He wants you as a door. He needs your memories, your restored mind, to return fully. He plans to possess the entire world through you."

Cambria’s stomach turned. "Then why help me?"

Eira looked at her, and for a second, Evelyn was there again. "Because some part of me still remembers who we were. Sisters."

Tears burned Cambria’s eyes. "Then help me stop him."

Eira turned away. "I can’t. But I can slow him down. You’ll need the Heartstone from the Valean Core. It’s the only thing strong enough to seal him forever."

"Where is it?"

Eira looked back, her form flickering. "You’ll have to find the Vault of Whispers. Maddox has the key."

Cambria’s heart stilled. "Maddox? He’s alive?"

Eira nodded. "Barely. He’s looking for you. But so is the Architect. Find the Vault. Save the world. Or lose everything."

And with that, Eira vanished into smoke.

The locket fell into Cambria’s hand once more. The room fell silent.

Hours later, Cambria emerged from the ruins of the chamber and into the ruins of Blackvale. The city was dying buildings crumbled, the sky bled light, and people ran in chaos.

But her path was clear now.

She had to find Maddox.

They had been enemies. Lovers. Strangers. But now, they were the only hope the world had left.

She reached into her coat, pulling out the shard of the broken Mirror. Its edge still shimmered with power. A compass, of sorts. One that would lead her to him.

And somewhere far ahead, beneath rubble, through betrayal, beyond the Architect’s reach, waited the Vault of Whispers.

Cambria started walking.

Not as a weapon.

Not as a queen.

But as both. noveldrama

Her mind raced as she walked through the crumbling alleyways of Blackvale. She passed wounded citizens trying to escape collapsing buildings, children clutching their mothers, and soldiers screaming for order. Every step was a reminder of what was at stake.

As she crossed a broken bridge, Cambria looked up once more. The Architect’s eye loomed wider, its iris spinning with runes that matched the ones she had once seen carved into the Mirror’s frame. It was feeding on fear, on disorder, and the longer it remained open, the thinner the walls between worlds became.

The wind carried whispers now too soft to understand, but laced with malice. Cambria tightened her grip on the locket.

Somewhere out there, Maddox was still alive.

And she would find him.

Because this time, love wasn’t her weakness.

It was her weapon.

And above her, the sky whispered one final word:

"Soon."