“Worse than I thought. Kael’s court is more unified than ever. His nobles celebrated her like she was some fallen star sent to bless them. Kael,” Alarik’s jaw tensed. “He looks at her like she was the first thing in his cursed life he's ever loved.”
Zairon exhaled. “That’s going to break him.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“But the cost,”
“I know the cost,” Alarik snapped, slamming his fist on the table. The citadel markers jumped.
Zairon spoke quietly, “But you think she’ll come to understand here?”
Alarik dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But she deserves to know what she is before anyone lays a binding claim to her.”
There was a long pause.
Then Zairon stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Then we better prepare,” he said. “Because the king of monsters will come for his bride. And he won’t come alone.”
Alarik didn’t answer.
He just looked back through the open arch toward the sea-soaked halls and whispered the only thing that felt real anymore.
“She’s not his bride yet.”
Chapter thirty-two
The Sea
-Maris-
Salt. It was the first thing she noticed, sharp and crisp, curling in her nose like a whisper from another world. Followed by the sound of rhythmic crashes, not the gentle breeze of the woods beyond Calyrix, but the echo of distant waves breaking against stone. The tide, relentless and vast.
Her fingers moved first. The sheets beneath her were softer than anything even Kael had blanketed her in. Not velvet. Not silk. Something richer. They shimmered faintly in the filtered light pouring from a lattice of carved glass.
Her heart thudded.
This wasn’t their bed and Nythra’s capital had no sea.
Her eyes snapped open.
The room was a wash in pearlescent grays and deep ocean blues, light flickering from crystal sconces that mimicked the soft dance of underwater flames. High-arched ceilings glittered with constellations painted in silverleaf. The stone was pale and polished, veined with gold. Outside of the open stained glass window the sky was full of darkness, flickers of shimmering stars hung in the sky.
How much time had passed since she curled in the warmth of Kael’s side to now be here without him?
And in the corner —a female sat silently.
Maris pushed herself upright, the silk sheets whispering against her bare skin like ghosts of a memory she couldn’t hold onto.
Salt clung to the air, cool and sharp. The woman was watching her like someone prepared for both kindness and war, she was beautiful—long braided golden hair, strong-shouldered, dressed in deep blue leathers.
“Where am I?” Maris rasped.
The woman stood slowly. “You are safe.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Maris narrowed her eyes, clutching the blanket tighter around herself. Her limbs ached with magic, like her body had been twisted mid-dream and left suspended between two realities.
“Who are you?”
