King Varian raised a hand, silencing them both. “Speak your peace, Kieran.”
Kieran stepped closer to the council table, every movement deliberate. “You’re debating what to do with the Aether wielder.”
Kaen folded his hands. “We were. Until your nephew decided to throw shadows through the wall.”
“Then I’ll speak quickly.” Kieran placed a leather-bound file on the table, the royal sigil burned faintly into its cover. “I’ve reviewed the healers’ reports and the field accounts. The girl’s manifestation is volatile, yes, but it’s not in malice. It’s inexperience. She doesn’t need confinement. She needs training.”
Kaen’s tone was silk dipped in acid. “Training? You would send a walking weapon back among recruits?”
“I would send her back to the only place that can keep her alive,” Kieran said evenly. “Asgard Training Academy’s wards were designed to contain elemental surges. We have the last living instructor versed in Aether teachings, Vaelen Solen. He’s the only one who can teach her control before her magic turns inward and consumes her. Or all of us.”
The council murmured. Even the King leaned forward slightly. Kieran pressed the advantage. “You’ve seen what happens when Aether is suppressed; the Rift trembles. The Veil weakens. If she’s caged, that power will leak through every barrier you raise.” He turned toward Varian. “If that happens, Majesty, the next eruption won’t be in a field; it’ll be in your capital.”
Varian’s fingers drummed once on the armrest. “You make a convincing threat, Commander.”
“A warning,” Kieran corrected. “You’ll lose more than soldiers if you turn her into a prisoner. You’ll lose the chance to master the lost magic and her power of what’s coming.”
Kaen’s eyes glinted. “And whatiscoming, Commander? You speak as if you’ve read a prophecy.”
“I’ve read the smoke of the attacks,” Kieran said. “And I’ve seen the dead rise where the Rift’s shadow falls. The necromancer attacks weren’t random, Majesty. They’re moving north, toward Asgar. Toward the training academy and her.”
The council erupted into an argument, steel and silk clashing across the chamber.
Kieran let it build, then cut through the noise. “You need Thorne back at the Training Academy. His dragon and hers are bound through the old bloodlines. Whatever draws the dark is already sensing that bond. Keep them apart, and you’ll drive both dragons to madness. We can’t afford that now that they are both back and here.”
The King frowned. “You’re saying we risk another Aether surge if they’re separated?”
“I’m saying we risk war if we keep ignoring what’s right in front of us.”
Kaen’s voice slid through the air like a blade. “You’d have us send the realm’s most dangerous magic back into a school full of children?”
Kieran’s gaze didn’t waver. “Better among my soldiers than your politicians.”
A tense silence followed. The firelight from the braziers shivered across their faces, gold on Kieran’s, red on the King’s, and shadows on Kaen’s.
Finally, King Varian spoke. “She returns to the Asgard Training Academy under your command, Kieran. You will answer for her, and for my son. If another incident occurs, the responsibility and the consequence will be yours.”
Kieran inclined his head. “Understood.”
Kaen’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes turned to glass. “Apoor choice, Father. When this ends in blood, remember who warned you.”
“War always ends in blood,” Kieran said quietly. “Some of us just choose where it’s spilled.” He turned and strode toward the door.
As the council dispersed, Kaen lingered by the window, watching the rain streak down the glass like veins of black mercury. His reflection twisted in it, half smile, half snarl. “Send word to Captain Virel,” he murmured to the guard at his shoulder. “Our watchers near Asgar will move at dusk. I want eyes on every dragon that leaves the field.”
“Yes, my Prince.”
Kaen’s gaze shifted toward the storm-lit courtyard below, where Vornokh’s shadow crossed the ground like a moving scar.
Let them fly home,he thought.Let them feel safe again. The serpent doesn’t strike until the prey remembers what peace feels like.
Lightning flared. The sky split. Somewhere deep in the palace, a chained rune pulsed once, like the heartbeat of something waiting to wake.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Thaelyn could feel the hum of magic before she even crossed the threshold. The Queen’s sanctum wasn’t like the rest of the palace; it was alive. The air shimmered faintly, scented with jasmine and something deeper, older, like rain touching stone. Magic pulsed through the black-veined walls, soft as heartbeats. Threads of silver light traced the carvings, flickering like distant stars. When Thaelyn stepped inside, her breath caught. It wasn’t fear that tightened her chest this time, but wonder.
