Kingdom Knight Regina Page

She walked alone into the broken gate, toward the enemy camp glowing like a wound on the horizon.

Not to reclaim a king. Not to avenge a throne. But because a kingdom—even a fallen one—still had a knight. kingdom knight regina

Her sword, Dawn’s Remain , had no jewels in its hilt—only the deep scratches of a hundred forgotten battles. Her shield bore no crest now but the memory of one: a winged star, half-erased by fire. She walked alone into the broken gate, toward

“I swore no oath to thrones,” she said, buckling her worn breastplate. “I swore to the kingdom. To the farmer’s lantern in the fog. To the bridge that does not fall. To the child who sleeps without fear of flame.” But because a kingdom—even a fallen one—still had

In the stained marble halls of the old Citadel, where oaths are etched in stone and silence, Regina knelt for the last time. The king’s crown had fallen. The standard of the Lion lay trampled under ash and boot. Yet when the usurper’s herald demanded her surrender, she rose—not with rage, but with the cold stillness of a blade drawn from its sheath.