“Odrin already told me the merchant was here bringing in goods for the celebration, as were many who travel the roads between settlements. But this…”
“He was sent,” Daerin finishes the thought, leaving me to ask the question at the forefront of all our minds.
“By who? Who would want me dead?”
Silence hangs in the air until Daerin moves again.
“There was this too.”
Reaching into his shirt pocket this time, he sets a wax seal on the desk. Chipped and broken, the mark is hard to make out, but it bears the same dark crimson that marred the letter with subtle flecks of ochre cast throughout it. I lean in to see it more closely. Despite the damage, the symbols are just visible:
A male symbol. The alchemical sign for iron. Set inside a triangle—fire.
The mark of the Ironborne Flame.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Soria and Ace speak aloud all the questions that linger in my own mind—and surely Vale’s as well.
“Normally I’d love the intrigue of a conspiracy. Court’s grown so boring before your arrival, Mira dear, but this…” Ace paces, uncertain where to place the energy stewing inside him. “Too much danger. Too close to those who matter most to me. I don’t like it.”
“None of us do,” Vale replies. “This shows a coordinated effort. Calculated strikes. And as much as it pains me to admit, it’s likely from within our own walls—possibly by those we trust most.”
I see the war raging behind his eyes: the urge to protect colliding with the need to plan. His brow furrows, frustration and betrayal etched into every line of his face.
“They knew she’d walk alone. Many were involved in the planning stages, but still… these aren’t the actions of an outsider. At least not alone. They’d need someone close. Someone relaying our every move.”
Soria sits beside me, one hand over mine, the other holding the letter. “They were sharing when she’d be most vulnerable. Most exposed.” She squeezes my hand—a silent reminder that I am still here. Still safe. “And this last line… ‘Long live the Ironborne Flame.’”
I feel her shiver as the words pass her lips.
“It’s unsettling,” she whispers. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. Not yet. But it reeks of propaganda.” Vale strikes the stone wall near the hearth with his fist. I jolt at the suddenness.
After a long silence, I mutter, “It’s a blessing and a curse.” I stand and walk to him, threading my arm through his—for comfort, for solidarity.
I turn toward Soria and Ace, both now shifting uneasily in the room that has so often felt like a haven.
“That means it isn’t personal,” I say, my voice strengthening. I look up at Vale—more warrior than lover in this moment, a man ready to burn the world down to keep his people safe. “It means it’s not about me—what I should or shouldn’t be, whether or not I’m accepted.”
I pause.
“I’m sure I still have work to do to earn and keep the kingdom’s favor. But maybe the attack wasn’t against me. Not directly. And if it’s against our home, all of Caerhollan will rise. Your people are loyal. If there’s a threat, they won’t sit idly by.”
“Our people,” Vale corrects gently. The steel in him cracks just enough to let his love shine through. “They’re your people too, Mira. And you’re right—we don’t face this battle alone. If something seeks to destroy us, we are a united front.”
“No faction stands a chance,” Ace adds with a smirk. I can almost see him painting a mental picture of some small-time villain against the full might of our kingdom. “Once we uncover who they are,” he continues, only slightly resigned.
“I have to speak with Odrin soon. He’s surely reached the same conclusion. We should prepare to return,” Vale says, the frustration flaring again in his eyes. “But not without a plan. This is not a matter for the council at large. We don’t yet know who we can trust.”
It is too much. The flickers of magic. A threat with an unknown agenda. The weight of it all pressed in.
As overwhelmed as I am, the urge to make a stand only deepens.
I would love nothing more than a peaceful—dull, even—honeymoon with my husband. But every semblance of calm has been rocked by revelation after revelation.
Still, I take measure of things. I had gone from a fleeting lifetime topotentially many with the man I love. So much remains frightening and unknown—but I would be a fool to ignore the gift I’d been given.
