Thornak stepped towards him, tension easing from his frame.
"I have missed you, brother," he said, voice rough with feeling.
Thornak pulled him into a firm, brief embrace, the kind forged on battlefields and long winters, strong and silent and real. When he drew back, he kept his hand on Kael's shoulder.
"It wasn't your fault."
Kael's jaw worked, frustration crackling beneath the surface.
"I know where your loyalty lies," Thornak continued, quiet but unflinching. "You would've stood beside her, just like you've always stood beside me."
"We underestimated her," Thornak said. His hand tightened just slightly. "Maravelle played her hand better than we gave her credit for." His voice lowered to a growl.
"But not again."
He gave Kael's shoulder one last squeeze, then let go.
"You're here now. I've invited Lara's parents for a private talk. They'll be here soon." He paused, then added, "And by nightfall, Aedric will arrive with King Maelor at his side."
Kael gave a short nod, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
"King Maelor, now that's good news. An alliance with the North will steady things." His gaze flicked to Thornak. "We'll need it, after everything."
Thornak nodded. "Come, brother, tell me all about your trip."
....
The gates of Vargorath opened wide as King Maelor rode in, draped in white wolf-fur, flanked by Northern banners and solemn guards. Beside him, Prince Aedric scanned the towering spires of the Lycan stronghold with a grin tugging at his lips, he looked, unmistakably, like a man relieved to be home.
Thornak and Queen Maravelle stood at the top of the stone steps, the morning sun gilding their shoulders. Flanked by a Kael, Dain and Ruvan. Iris and Jasmine stood behind them. Thornak stepped forward, nodding once with respect.
"King Maelor. Your presence honors us."
Maelor swung down from his mount with a grunt and an easy smile. "King Thornak." His gaze flicked to Maravelle, far less formal. "Maravelle. Still keeping the palace sharper than any blade, I see."
Her nod was composed, cool, but Thornak caught the faint tightening of her jaw.
"I could hardly stay away," Maelor added, his voice deepening. "Not with the Moonguard Queen finally here."
Thornak didn't speak at first. He turned, eyes settling on Maravelle for a single breath, quiet and unreadable, then looked back at the king.
"Come," he said. "We've much to discuss."
With that, he led them through the great doors, shadows curling behind their heels.
....
Mira knelt beside Liam, fastening the tiny silver buttons on his tunic with practiced hands. The boy bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, excitement humming in every breath.
"She's really awake?" he asked for the tenth time, his voice high with hope.
Mira smiled softly, smoothing his collar. "She is. The healers said she opened her eyes this morning."
Liam's eyes lit like lanterns. "Can I see her now?"
"Soon," Mira said, brushing back a lock of his hair and tucking it neatly behind his ear. "But you must look your best. She hasn't seen you since yesterday, remember?"
He nodded seriously and stood tall, letting her straighten his sleeves. "Will she still remember me?"
Mira's hands stilled for a heartbeat. Then she looked into his eyes and said with quiet certainty, "She could forget everything else in the world, Liam, but never you."
He grinned, the worry melting away, and reached for the small bouquet he had picked earlier that morning, wildflowers, a bit crushed from his grip.
"Let's go," he said, clutching the stems. "She'll want to see these."
Mira rose, smoothing her skirts and offering him her hand. "Then let's not keep her waiting."
Aedric had been walking the corridor, half-lost in his own thoughts, when he saw them.
The boy came first, Liam, bounding ahead in his polished boots and too-long tunic, grinning with eager excitement. Mira followed close behind, trying to keep pace as he tugged at her hand, asking how much farther to his sister.
Aedric stilled.
A strange feeling curled in his chest as he watched them. Truly the boy had his eyes. Not just in color, but in the quiet strength behind them, the spark of defiance. His brows furrowed, and for a moment, the hallway seemed to blur at the edges.
He remembered the dream. The one he hadn't spoken of to anyone. The one where Lara had stood beside him, hand in his, and the child, this boy, had clutched his other hand. A dream that had left him unsettled for days.
He watched Liam more closely now, his gaze tracing the shape of his face, the set of his jaw. There was no mistaking the resemblance.
Aedric's eyes sharpened. His parents were in the castle. He would speak to them. Soon.Right now he has to go and see his wife.
Without saying a word, he turned on his heel. But something had shifted behind his eyes, like stormclouds building on a once-clear sky.
Prince Aedric made his way through the familiar stone halls of Vargorath, guards and servants parting before him with murmured greetings and lowered gazes. His boots echoed down the corridor that led to his chambers. He hadn't sent word ahead. He'd wanted to surprise her.
He turned the handle of his door and stepped inside.The scent hit him first. Musk, perfume, sweat.
Then he saw them.
Lady Ariana. His wife. Bare-shouldered in their bed, tangled in sheets and limbs, with a man he did not recognize. Bold enough to smirk before fear caught up to him.
Aedric didn't move. Not at first. The door stood open behind him, the morning sun spilling in like judgment itself.
Ariana gasped and scrambled for the sheets, her face blanching as she met his eyes. "Aedric..."
He raised a hand. Quiet. Cold. Final.
The stranger sat up in alarm, but Aedric's gaze never left hers. "Get out," he said to the man, voice low and dangerous.
Neither of them moved.
"I said get out." Steel laced each syllable.
The man fled, grabbing his boots on the way.
"Why?" He asked her.
Ariana clutched the sheets, lips trembling as she tried to speak.
But Aedric turned and walked away without a word, the door swinging shut behind him with a sound like the end of something sacred.
Aedric stepped into the Queen's solar without waiting to be announced. His face was pale, lips parted as if he couldn't quite find breath. Maravelle looked up from her desk, the firmness in her posture softening at the sight of him.
He shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment.
"She was with someone," he said, voice low and broken. "Another man. In our bed."
Maravelle looked confused. "Aedric… who..."
"I walked in and she didn't even flinch. Just… pulled the sheets around herself like I was the one who didn't belong." He laughed bitterly, swiping a hand across his face. "I gave up everything for her. For you. For what you said was right."
He looked up, eyes shimmering. "And she never loved me. Not for a day."
Maravelle crossed the room and placed her hands on his shoulders, steady and warm. "You listen to me, child," she said, her voice steel wrapped in silk. "Pull yourself together."
Aedric's lips trembled, but he held her gaze.
Maravelle cupped his face gently, motherly for once. "And now, I will deal with her. She will be gone by nightfall, she will be cast from this castle, and she will not return. Not while I draw breath. No one betrays my blood and remains under my roof."
Aedric dropped his gaze, shoulders shaking.
Maravelle held him a moment longer, then let him go. She turned toward and shouted for the guards outside.
"Find Lady Ariana and bring her to me now."
In the Queen's private audience hall, the air was thick with tension as Aedric stood at one corner, heartbroken and silent.
Lady Ariana stood at the center of the chamber, flanked by two guards, hastily dressed and defiant, her eyes flashing with unrepentant fury. Beside her stood the man she'd been caught with, silent and sullen, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.
Queen Maravelle sat upon her carved seat, eyes gleaming with a fury seldom seen. Beside her stood Lords Elron and Asher, silent and grim.
"Ariana of House Valen," Maravelle said, her voice ringing clear through the chamber. "You came to Vargorath as a princess, not by merit, not by right, but by the will of the Crown and mine."
Ariana's mouth twisted, but she said nothing.
Maravelle stood, the long folds of her gown pooling around her like storm clouds. "And in return for the title you were handed, the husband you were sworn to, and the trust of this court… you chose betrayal."
Prince Aedric remained silent at the edge of the dais, his eyes rimmed red but his back unbowed. He had refused to look at his wife since she entered.
"You were given a place beside a prince," Queen Maravelle said icily. "And you dishonored it."
Ariana raised her chin. "He never wanted me," she replied. "You forced him to wed me, remember? I was a pawn. I simply stopped playing."
"Prince Aedric is your husband," Lord Elron snapped.
"No. I have a mate," Ariana returned, her voice void of fear. "And Am done pretending. Prince Aedric refused to mark me, so I have never been his."
Aedric looked away, jaw clenched.
Maravelle stood slowly. "You dare defy this court under my roof?"
"I won't weep and beg for a life I never chose," Ariana said coldly.
Maravelle's hand lifted with queenly finality. "Then you may leave with your lover and your pride, Lady Ariana. By my word as Queen Regent of Vargorath, you are hereby stripped of your title, lands, and status. You are no longer welcome in this kingdom. You will be escorted from the castle by sundown and delivered to your family's estate, where you will remain under house guard until further notice. You will never see Prince Aedric again."
Ariana said nothing. She merely turned and walked out, back straight, like a woman who'd never intended to stay.
As the heavy door shut behind Ariana, Queen Maravelle turned her full attention to the man still flanked by guards. Her voice, sharp as steel, cut through the silence.
"Who are you?"
The man swallowed hard, eyes darting between the nobles and the guards.
"My... my name is Garran, Your Highness," he stammered.
"I was only... she said... she told me..."
Maravelle's gaze narrowed.
"She told you what?"
Garran faltered. "That her husband didn't matter. That she could do as she pleased. I didn't know she was..."
"You knew she was a married noblewoman in my court."
Her voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. The ice in her tone made the blood drain from his face. "Where did you come from?"
Garran's eyes flickered nervously. "From the outskirts of the Eastern Wilds, Your Majesty."
She leaned forward slightly, her expression unyielding.
"And how did you find your way here, into my castle?"