Chapter 29: Chapter Twenty-Nine: Before The Storm
The palace gates opened before Kaelira's arrival was ever announced.
Not out of respect.
Out of fear.
Word had traveled faster than her horse—faster than the wind that curled through the Hollow and carried whispers to every tower, every chamber. The Queen had returned, and she was not alone.
Elarin walked beside her. And that, more than anything, set the court on edge.
The guards at the inner gate didn't meet her eyes. They stepped aside with tight jaws and trembling hands.
Kaelira said nothing. Elarin, barefoot as always, glanced at them with the faint smile of someone remembering the last time she was hunted through these halls.
"They still flinch," she murmured.
"They should," Kaelira replied. "They remember what they did."
Inside, the Council had already gathered.
Not because they wanted to welcome her but because Dorian had summoned them.
He stood at the head of the chamber like a king out of time—too still, too ancient, eyes like ink pressed into bone. He said nothing as Kaelira entered. He only watched her, unreadable, as the doors closed behind her.
She moved with fire in her veins and frost in her expression.
Elarin followed at a measured pace. Quiet. Watching.
Always watching.
Chancellor Myrell rose first. As always.
Her smile was thin. "Your Majesty. We had not expected you back so soon."
Kaelira stopped at the edge of the circle.
"You never expect me. That's your mistake."
A few councilors shifted in their seats.
Senator Rhys tried to stand but stopped when Elarin's gaze flicked to him—just once.
Even without a blade, she carried war in her posture.
"My Queen," Myrell said carefully, "you've been seen entering the Hollow. Speaking with enemies. Walking among magic that this Council has not sanctioned."
"And what have you done while I was gone?" Kaelira asked, voice cutting like moonlight through fog. "Approved raids in the east? Sent spies into Lethra? Ordered the loyal dead to rise again, but not for their own cause?"
No one answered.
She dropped a second scroll onto the floor.
"These are the names of every rebel village you've sanctioned to burn since I left."
Elarin added, coolly, "And the names of the children taken from those villages, fed to your courts for binding blood-magic."
Gasps spread like frostbite.
Even Dorian's jaw tensed—though his eyes never left Kaelira.
"You come here with accusations," Rhys barked, "and expect us to sit like chastened hounds?"
Kaelira stepped forward.
"No. I expect you to listen. For once."
She placed her hands on the war table. Flames danced briefly beneath her palms—not destructive, just undeniable.
"I met with Roen Vale. I gave him terms."
"You gave our enemies—" Myrell began.
"I gave our people a choice," Kaelira cut in. "To stand with us. Or against the war you keep feeding from behind your velvet cloaks."
Elarin spoke next. Her voice was silk woven with steel.
"You made a mistake letting us return. You thought Kaelira was still yours to control."
She circled the table slowly, pausing behind each council member like a shadow measuring the weight of their crimes.
"She's not. She never was. And now she remembers what you tried to erase."
Rhys stood suddenly. "This is treason!"
Elarin smiled. "No. This is prophecy."
Kaelira stepped beside her sister, side by side again—mirror images forged in fire and betrayal.
She looked at Dorian.
He nodded once.
And then he spoke.
"The Council no longer rules by fear. This Queen does not answer to you."
He looked at Myrell.
"From this day forward, the Crown and Flame rule together."
The silence was thunderous.
Kaelira turned back to the Council.
"You may choose peace. Or you may choose to be remembered as ash."
The chamber held its breath.
And somewhere outside the palace, thunder rolled—though the sky was clear.
Later, in the privacy of her chambers, Kaelira stared at the map once more.
Elarin stood at the window, eyes lost in stars.
"They'll try to kill you now," she said softly. "You know that."
"They always were," Kaelira answered. "Now I see it."
She traced her fingers over a mark—Hollowridge.
"Roen will answer."
"Will he trust you?" Elarin asked.
Kaelira looked up.
"He doesn't need to. He only needs to hope."
And outside the walls, beneath the weight of secrets and stars, the city waited.
For fire.
For change.
For the storm.