Thauren’s stride slowed.
“She was…” he exhaled, breath fogging in the air. “Kind. Braver than most kings, myself included. She never raised her voice, never needed to. When she walked into a room, it was like someone opened a window. You just breathed easier.”
Maris swallowed. “I know of her affections for Alarik but what of Kael?”
Thauren’s smile was a broken thing. “She saw through him, they were great friends once. She saw something good under all that ruin, and she clung to it. Even when it broke her. She thought of peace.”
“I was angry for so long. Angry at Alarik. At Kael. At the gods. But now… I wonder if she knew that her death would lead to all this. Maybe it was a mercy, in the cruelest sense.”
Maris closed her eyes for a long moment. “I can see why she was so loved.”
“Elenwe is one of the many reasons that I will help you destroy Eiren.” he said simply.
She nodded in understanding.
The music inside swelled again.
Maris turned back toward the glow of the hall. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Anytime,” Thauren said. “And for what it’s worth… I think she would’ve liked you.”
"I think I would have as well," she smiled.
She just walked back into the light and a shadow followed her stitched to her heels.
The warmth of candlelight wrapped around her. Laughter still fluttered in the rafters, though it seemed dimmer now, further away. A waltz had begun. Slow and haunting.
Her thoughts were still tangled in Thauren’s words. As she walked she felt a heavy familiar gaze linger.
As she weaved through a set of pillars, she saw him waiting.
Kael leaned against a stone archway, half-shrouded in shadow, silver eyes locked on. His arms rested firmly crossed at his chest and his boots crossed at the ankle. He gave her a tight nod toward the balcony doors on the opposite end of the hall — one of the more private in the packed castle hall, it lead to a quiet overlook where the cliffs met the sea.
Maris inclined her head and followed as he push off the arch.
The night air bit at her cheeks as she stepped outside. Kael propped him muscular form against the balustrade, his hair wind-swept and moonlit. He looked made from myth, too darkly beautiful to be real.
“Enjoying your evening?” he asked, his voice low.
“As much as I can,” she replied honestly, stepping beside him. “It’s strange… all of this. The warmth. The music. It feels like a memory I don’t quite belong to.”
Kael glanced at her hand, where his ring no longer sat.
“You belong to everything now, Maris. And none of it. That’s a heavy burden.”
She looked up at him.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have many faults, more than I’ll ever finish repenting for. But I’m here for you now.”
Maris blinked, startled by the candor. “You don’t usually admit when you’re wrong.”
“I don’t usually feel wrong,” he murmured. “But with you… I’ve only ever felt like I was too late. Too blind. Too much shadow in your light.”
Her breath caught.
Kael turned fully toward her, his hand rising, hesitating just before touching her face. When she didn’t pull away, he let his fingertips trail gently along her jaw, feather-light, lovingly.
“I didn’t see you,” he said. “I was too busy trying to protect what I thought you were… instead of honoring what you might become.”
