The skies above Aetheria swirled in streaks of silver mist and gold firelight, but deep within the Blackwing Dungeons, a storm darker than night was brewing.
Kael didn't speak as the guards dragged the trembling maid into the chamber.
She fell to her knees before him.
Her pale hands shook. Her lip bled where she'd bitten it. "P-Prince Kael… I—I was only—"
"Silence."
His voice could've frozen molten steel.
The guards backed away without a word. The door slammed shut. Kael stepped forward, slow and deliberate, cloak dragging like smoke.
"You shoved her," he said. "Into a seventy-foot drop."
"I didn't mean to kill her!" the woman cried. "She doesn't belong here! She's a human, she—she bewitched the Crown Prince, the people whisper behind closed doors—"
Kael's boot struck the ground beside her, and she flinched.
"No one touches her." His voice dropped to a whisper, more terrifying than a scream. "You breathe her name again, and I will make your death feel like a mercy."
Tears streamed down her face.
"I was loyal to you! The court said—said she was yours in the dreams. That the healer belonged to the Dark Prince. That she should've—"
Kael froze.
The air thickened with dark magic.
And his expression… shifted.
For a second, just a breath, his eyes betrayed a flicker of grief. Of truth.
"...She was."
Then it was gone.
He turned away, motioned to the guards.
"Take her to the Void Halls. No trial."
The guards hesitated, uneasy. "But, Your Highness… without royal decree—"
"I am the decree," Kael growled. "My brother may wear the crown. But I protect it."
---
Meanwhile, in the Sunlight Tower…
Elara paced her chambers, freshly dressed, her skin still pale from the drowning.
She couldn't sleep.
Not with Kael's voice echoing in her skull:
> "Even if I hate myself for it, I'd rather drown beside you than let you fall alone."
He hated her. Didn't he?
He treated her like she was the enemy of his fate. Cold. Cruel. Cutting.
But then…
Why did he look at her like she was the only thing keeping him breathing?
Auren entered not long after, smiling as he carried her favorite herbal tea.
"You're still awake," he said softly. "You should be resting."
Elara smiled, tired. "Trying."
He kissed her cheek and sat beside her. "Kael tracked her down. The one who pushed you."
"What did he do?" she asked carefully.
Auren looked grim. "Dealt with it. As he always does."
She nodded.
But her heart… ached.
Because part of her wondered—
If she had met Kael first… before dreams, before magic, before vows…
Would she have chosen differently?
---
Across the palace, Kael stood on the balcony of his tower, drenched in moonlight. His armor lay beside him, and in his hand, he held the ribbon from Elara's dress—the one he found tangled in the vines after saving her.
He crushed it in his fist.
And for the first time in years…
He whispered her name.
> "Elara."
Like a prayer.
Like a curse.
Like a promise.
---