He moved with shadows rolling at his back through the quiet palace corridors, starting with the obvious.
The training yard.
Valea was there alone when he approached, sharpening a curved blade that gleamed under the rising sun. Her crimson braid was pulled tight, her expression as severe as ever.
She saw the question on his tense face.
“She’s not here,” Valea said before he even asked. “Didn’t come for drills this morning, I thought you two were enjoying your morning — in another type of sparring.”
Kael’s jaw clenched.
He found his way to the gardens next.
He found Serya and Leneth walking slowly under the arches of blooming moonvine, their heads bent together in quiet gossip. They looked up as he approached, instantly falling into silence —both bowing before him.
“Have you seen her?” Kael asked.
Serya shook her head gently. “Not today, my King. Not since the feast.”
“She promised we’d meet by the fountain,” Leneth added, brows furrowed. “I brought her candied lemon drops. They’re her favorite.”
Kael didn’t respond. He was already moving.
He disappeared through shadow to the library tower.
Aldwyn stood among the shelves, blindfolded as always, his hands gliding over a tome of brittle parchment. He paused as Kael’s presence darkened the air.
"Maris." Kael roared.
“She came yesterday for lessons,” the Lorekeeper said. “We spoke of dreams.”
Kael’s voice sharpened. “And today?”
“She hasn’t returned.” Aldwyn tilted his head.
Kael’s spine prickled with cold.
He stormed down the spiral steps without a word.
He went back to their chambers.
Empty.
One of the Wraiths stood at the doorway, its blank face tilted. Silent. Waiting.
Kael snarled, “Where is she?”
But she said nothing.
A hollow sensation began to burn through his chest.
The kitchens. The garden walls. The tower lookout. Every inch of Calyrix scoured.
Still no Maris.
The bond hadn’t snapped into place but it had changed.
Warped.
