The room was tense.
No celebration.
No grand ceremony.
Aeron sat the throne looking older than Sabine had ever seen him, with Ilyra standing to his right and Lucien standing to his left.
Sabine entered in a gown that was not white.
Dark blue.
Structured.
The circlet visible against her dark hair.
The council watched her cross the floor with expressions ranging from calculated deference to barely concealed hostility.
Aeron spoke without preamble.
“Sabine Corvyr is acknowledged as sacred consort under royal witness. The altered vow completed in the Vow Chamber. The union is valid under crown authority. The rite itself will be reviewed, not reversed.”
Serast rose from the temple bench.
“Your Majesty, the sanctification was interrupted by irregularity.”
“I watched the chamber answer.” Aeron’s voice was tired but absolute. “I watched what it had hidden. I will not unsee it for your convenience.”
The room went silent.
Corvek’s quill scratched across parchment.
Recording.
Making it legal.
Making it harder to bury.
Lucien stepped forward and stood beside Sabine.
Not in front of her.
Not shielding her from the room.
Beside her as equal witness.
Sabine felt the bond settle between them.
Steady.
Quiet.
Answered.
The council bowed.
Some quickly because power had shifted.
Some slowly because resistance had already begun calculating.
