I just worry that this war has no end in sight…
Such is the nature of it,Kailorien said.Peace is an illusion, a ceasefire between battles. Even if it lasts for a decade, it is always temporary. If this wasn't the world's truth—he turned to look at her.Then none would need the Resh'Agar.
As Kailorien stepped out towards the bath, she reached into one of his drawers and pulled out her old wooden comb. For now, she left her hair unbound.
A sound caught her attention.
She turned to see Lu’ma placing a scroll on Auryn’s worktable. The look in her eyes nearly caused Auryn to drop her comb. She set it aside and walked to the table, forcing her steps—and her heart—to stay steady. Kailorien would sense it through the Bond if she allowed herself to stress.
At the table, she picked up the scroll and opened it. The symbol of the Sokâr was emblazoned within, along with a familiar curved script. The dream from earlier curled low and cold beneath her ribs, its echo suddenly too sharp to ignore.
You see? Did I not tell you he was watching?
Cold sweat broke out around her nape.
She read the words within.
‘Ilphara. We await your arrival in the Vesper Seat.
Leave your Attendant to its duties.’
She handed the scroll back to Lu’ma, watching her tuck it into her violet robes. She let her panic settle while keeping her face stone still. She blocked the Bond from reaching Kailorien. He would likely feel the shift, just not its nature.
“Auryn?” he called from the bathing chamber. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” she said. “Just summons from the Council. You know how I feel when they try to drag me into conversation without notice.”
Kail emerged from the other end of the room dressed in loose trousers and a black undershirt. He ran his hand through his mussed hair.
“You’ll do well, as always.”
She smiled, though she could hardly make it sincere.
“I still worry.”
They went back to preparing for the day. Auryn helped Kailorien with the buckles of his armor. She quite enjoyed the task. It was soothing.Peaceful. For brief moments, it gave her the illusion that she had some control over his safety.
Kailorien had just finished securing the final buckle on his bracer when Auryn kissed his cheek and slipped past him toward the door.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she said lightly.
He caught her hand before she could vanish completely.
His sharp eyes searched hers, lingering on something—a tightness she couldn’t quite hide.
“You’ll tell me if something’s wrong?”
She smiled. “I’ll tell you if anythingnewis wrong.”
He huffed a breath through his nose, half-smile lingering as he let her go. She vanished into the corridor before he could press further.
And so, you go to court his brother—for favors. For scraps. Without telling your Bonded a thing. How very…political…of you, little Sokâr.
The doors to the Vesper Seat opened without sound, revealing a chamber soaked in heat and shadow.
The colossal fluxhearth at its center roared with a steady, unnerving fervor—its flame twisting high above the golden grate, casting writhing reflections along the dark stone floor. The air was stifling as Auryn stepped inside.
She wore no ceremonial silk today. No formal braid or gold-set veil. Just a simple slate-blue dress with sleeves pushed up to her elbows and a thin sash at her waist. Her hair was loosely pinned, strands sticking to her damp neck. A scroll rested beneath her arm, and the faint scent of lavender clung to her skin, though she hadn’t worn it for him.
