Chapter 21: Chapter 21 – Smoke Behind the Throne
The sky had cleared.
The stars, once distorted by divine tension, now shimmered in their natural stillness.
But peace was an illusion.
Even as the Sacred Tree bloomed again, even as bells rang in celebration-there were eyes in the dark corners of Virelles.
Watching.
Waiting.
Plotting.
Elara stood by the tower window, dressed no longer in traveling leathers but in a deep crimson gown threaded with ancient glyphs-symbols that now meant freedom instead of curse.
Kaelith entered quietly behind her.
"You haven't slept," he said.
"No," she replied, without turning. "Freedom has a strange way of feeling borrowed."
He stepped beside her. "They'll come. Not gods this time. But men who wanted to be gods."
"And we'll face them," she said.
Together, they watched as torches lit along the lower palace walls-one by one.
An emergency council had been summoned.
The chamber was full.
Tension thick enough to cut.
The Queen Dowager sat at the far end, eyes colder than before, dressed in a pearl-grey robe that whispered of mourning… or warning.
Kaelith entered first.
Elara followed-unannounced.
Every head turned.
Someone gasped.
Others narrowed their eyes.
She held her ground.
Kaelith raised a hand. "This is not a trial. It's a reckoning."
Lord Aenrik, still too young and too ambitious, stood. "You broke the contract of the gods."
Kaelith cut in. "And lived."
"That doesn't mean you should rule," Aenrik said.
"It means we finally can," Elara said. "Without chains."
The Queen spoke. "You want the people to forget centuries of fear… because you love each other?"
Elara didn't blink. "Yes."
Laughter. Mockery.
But one lord stood slowly from the shadows.
Old. Quiet. Respected.
"I was twelve," he said, "when I first read of Elanora and the Lost Prince. We called it myth. Now I see them standing before me." He looked at the others. "And you want to condemn them?"
Silence fell.
Elara's voice was quiet but clear. "We remember everything. All our sins. All our chances. And still, we choose each other. That's not weakness. That's the only strength that outlasts time."
Later that night, the council dismissed.
But as Kaelith and Elara exited the chamber-
A blade was drawn in the shadows.
Fast. Silent.
Elara turned too late.
But Kaelith didn't.
Steel clashed against steel as his hidden dagger met the assassin's sword mid-strike.
Guards shouted.
The attacker fell.
But before he could be interrogated-He bit down on a black crystal in his mouth.
And turned to ash.
In the silence that followed, Elara knelt beside the scorch mark left behind.
Kaelith stared at the ash.
"They weren't sent by the gods," he said.
"No," Elara replied.
"They were sent by the court."
She looked up at him.
And for the first time since they had broken the curse-her eyes burned with fire again.