“…Kael won’t be enough to protect you, once the four Gods realize what has been awakened beneath their noses, they will come for you.”
Only the sea spoke now, its ancient song howling through the glass arches. Maris stood there, staring at the man who had haunted her nights and strained her bond —knowing somehow that she was about to cross a line in the sand.
-Alarik-
Alarik remained still, the weight of his crown pressing invisible lines into his brow. The pause stretched, taut and full of something unspoken. He watched her, knowing she was balancing everything — him, Kael, and whatever may come next.
When she finally exhaled, it was sharp. Like she’d carved the decision out of her ribs.
“I will stay,” she declared.
The words landed like a blade piercing him to the hilt. For a breath, Alarik nearly sank to his knees in thanks. He hadn't expected it —not really. Every part of his being had braced for her rejection, he looked for her to turn and walk out — fire in her wake.
She cut through his thoughts, before he could speak. "I do not do this lightly, it's not for you." Her voice sharper now, eyes narrowed. "I'm staying for answers for myself."
He inclined his head, solemn and sure.
"As it should be," He replied.
His body slacked, tension gliding off his shoulders like an ebb tide. His gaze found Zairon, who looked stunned for half a second before his expression cracked into a fleeting grin. A look of triumph displayed proudly in his features. The scholar was still frozen in the corner, eyes fixed on every precious scrolls and tomes scattered around the space.
She stood rooted before him arms crossed in distain. Her eyes hard, her jaw set in rebellion. “The moment I feel like a prisoner, I will find a way to flea.”
“I’ll have no locks placed on your door,” he promised. “No guards— only guides. You’ll be allowed to walk the gardens, speak to the scholars, ask anything you wish.”
She stepped back a pace, placing some distance between them and spoke. “And you won’t come into my dreams again.”
The tether between them tugged like an unseen chord plucked. A low thrumming of instinct and memory.
Alarik’s throat tightened. “I won’t. Unless you summon me, lady.”
She nodded slowly, then turned toward the door leaving without another word.
As her steps retreated down the hall- for the first time in a hundred years, he prayed.
Not to the gods.
But to she who might defeat them.
Chapter thirty-six
Oaths
-Kael-
The letter arrived at dawn, borne by a raven with violet-threaded feathers, Thauren’s personal sigil, a Leviathan, stamped into the wax. Kael broke through the hardened seal with swift precision, his eyes darting over the lines — each letter stoked the tension mouthing in his spine. Every word feeding his fire, by the time he reached the end, his fury was unmistakable.
Aid will be yours, it read,but my price is simple. She comes to Virellia when this war against Calanthe is won. The Veil Breaker, will become a symbol and shield for my people. A tether of power to my throne.
Kael's fist clenched around the parchment, crumpling it. The flames in the hearth surged in response, roaring higher as he hurled the letter into the fire. His shadows exploded outward, slamming against stone with a wail of fury — they curled and snapped like beasts unchained— living extensions of his rage.
Thauren's arrogance had always ran deep. But he'd lost his senses to assume Kael would even deign him a response to his cumbersome proposal.
“She is not a piece for trade,” he growled.
Corin and Riven sat to his right, their jaws taunt, eyes dark with restraint. The claim on their soon-to-be queen was an insult neither took lightly.
To his left, Valea scoffed outright, the sound sharp as steel.
