The throne room hung in frozen silence.
Lucien's words still echoed—sharp, impossible to ignore. Courtiers dared not breathe too loudly, as if the weight of his declaration might crush the marble pillars if acknowledged too soon.
Aveline stood at his side, her face composed, yet her heart thundered. For once, not from fear—but something electric. The High Magister's face had gone still, save for the twitch in his jaw.
The King's eyes flicked between Lucien and Aveline, searching, calculating. "Prince Lucien," he said slowly, "do you truly intend to back this… cause?"
Lucien's answer came calm, yet unwavering. "I do. If harm comes to her, it will answer to me."
Aveline didn't flinch as the gazes of nobles turned sharp with curiosity, some with suspicion. Power had shifted in that moment—and everyone felt it.
Across the room, the Queen's fan stilled mid-wave. And in a darkened corner, Lady Calista leaned forward, a slow smile curling on her lips.
"Interesting," she murmured. "So the wolf bares his teeth."
The court session dissolved like smoke. One by one, nobles made their bows and curtsies, retreating behind carefully neutral expressions—though the whispers had already begun.
Aveline walked with her spine straight, Lucien beside her like a silent storm. The moment the great doors of the throne room closed behind them, she released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"That was reckless," she said under her breath, not quite looking at him.
Lucien's lips twitched. "It was necessary."
They moved swiftly down the corridor, their footfalls echoing. When they turned the corner and found themselves alone, he stopped her with a gentle touch to her arm.
"Aveline," he said softly. "You no longer stand alone. Whatever storm is coming… we face it together."
She looked up into his eyes, surprised by the sincerity there. It wasn't a political promise. Not entirely.
"I don't need saving," she said quietly.
"I know," he replied. "That's why I'm standing beside you—not in front."
Her breath caught just a little.
Before she could answer, a royal page came rushing down the hall.
"Lady Aveline! His Majesty requests your presence in the solar. Alone."
Lucien's jaw tightened, but Aveline only gave a measured nod.
"Tell His Majesty I'm on my way."
When the page hurried off, Lucien stepped closer. "Be careful."
She gave him a faint, wry smile. "I always am."
But as she walked away, the air around her crackled—like the calm before a lightning strike.
The King's solar was a far cry from the icy grandeur of the throne room. It was warm with gilded sunlight spilling across velvet drapes and walls lined with shelves of old tomes. But the warmth was only skin-deep.
King Edric stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, his profile sharp with thought.
Aveline entered silently, the door closing behind her with a soft click.
"You summoned me, Your Majesty."
The King didn't turn around. "Do you know what kind of chaos you've invited into my court today?"
"I didn't invite it," Aveline said evenly. "I simply didn't flinch when it arrived."
That made him turn. His eyes, though lined with age, were still keen. "You're clever with words. But cleverness can only shield you so far."
Aveline stepped forward, chin held high. "Then I'll use more than words."
The King studied her for a long moment. "Lucien has always been willful. But aligning himself with you… it's a declaration." His tone darkened. "Not just of sentiment. Of sides."
Aveline remained silent. She knew better than to deny it.
"You've made enemies," the King went on. "Not just in the court, but among those who don't speak aloud. And enemies—"
"Have already tried to kill me," she interrupted softly.
A beat of silence.
Then, surprisingly, the King gave a slow nod. "Then you understand the stakes."
He walked back to his desk, picked up a sealed parchment, and held it out.
"Consider this an unofficial warning. The High Magister has requested permission to investigate your magic further. He claims… irregularities."
Aveline took the scroll, fingers brushing over the seal but not breaking it.
"And what does my King say?" she asked carefully.
King Edric looked at her long and hard. Then said, "I say… be very careful where you step next, Lady Aveline. I can't protect you from everything."
Aveline descended the spiral staircase from the solar with measured grace, but her grip on the sealed parchment was tight enough to leave creases in the thick paper. Her mind raced, though her face betrayed nothing.
An investigation. Of her magic.
It was a warning, yes—but more than that, it was a test. The King hadn't sided with the High Magister… but he hadn't stopped him either.
Outside the arched windows, twilight had begun to stretch across the sky, casting long shadows over the palace grounds. She reached the lower corridor just as a figure detached from one of the columns.
Lucien.
His expression was unreadable. "How bad was it?"
She offered him the scroll without a word.
He took it, eyes scanning the seal, then frowned. "He's moving faster than we thought."
Aveline nodded. "He wants to corner me. Strip me down to the bone until there's nothing left but what he can control."
Lucien stepped closer. "He's not going to get that chance."
She looked up at him, eyes steady. "No. He's not."
Their alliance was no longer just political—it was personal now. Tied together by threats, by secrets, by something deeper neither of them dared name.
From the far end of the corridor, a soft rustle—too soft for most ears—echoed like a whisper of silk.
Aveline turned slightly. "We're being watched."
Lucien didn't flinch. "Let them watch."
She allowed herself a small, cold smile. "Then let's give them something to fear."