Kiss Me, Then Kill Me

Chapter 22: Chapter 22 – Let Her Burn



The ashes of the assassin hadn't cooled by morning.

‎Kaelith's blade still rested at his hip.

‎And Elara-dressed in mourning black now-walked the palace halls like a storm wrapped in silk.

‎Gone was the soft-spoken girl who whispered to the stars.

‎She had tasted peace.

‎And found blood in its aftertaste.

‎The High Chamber met again before sunrise.

‎Emergency session.

‎This time, Elara did not wait to be introduced.

‎She stepped to the center of the chamber, voice cutting through the silence.

‎"There was an attempt on my life last night.

‎It failed.

‎But I will not wait for the second attempt."

‎Lord Aenrik folded his arms smugly. "You walk like royalty but wear no crown."

‎Kaelith stood. "Then give her one."

‎Gasps.

‎The Queen Dowager rose. "You cannot be serious."

‎"She was once the curse of this court," Aenrik added, "and now you want her to rule it?"

‎Elara's voice dropped to a deadly calm.

‎"I don't want your crown.

‎I want your liars.

‎Your whisperers.

‎Your killers."

‎A pulse of magic rippled from her fingertips-just enough to flicker the torches in their holders.

‎"I want every name who fed off the divine order's fear, who kept the curse alive for power."

‎Later that day, four nobles were arrested.

‎Two confessed under truth-spell.

‎One slit his throat before the spell was cast.

‎The fourth? Lady Thirelle-clever, quiet, and far more dangerous than she appeared.

‎She smiled in her cell.

‎"The throne doesn't burn, my lady," she whispered when Elara entered.

‎"But queens do."

‎Elara stared at her for a moment.

‎Then knelt.

‎And whispered back:

‎"Then I hope it's hot enough."

‎That night, Elara met Kaelith alone on the balcony of the Eastern Spire.

‎The moon was high.

‎The city was quiet.

‎But something in the air had changed.

‎"I was never meant for this," she said softly.

‎"You were meant to survive," Kaelith replied. "And you did."

‎She shook her head.

‎"I don't want to rule, Kaelith."

‎"Then don't."

‎He took her hand.

‎"Rule with me."

‎She looked up at him.

‎And-for the first time in countless lives-she didn't feel like a ghost of someone else.

‎She felt present.

‎Here.

‎Now.

‎Real.

‎But far below, in the dungeons beneath the court…

‎Lady Thirelle vanished from her cell.

‎No spell. No lock broken.

‎Just a folded letter left behind, resting on ash.

‎"The gods are not gone.

‎They've simply found a new vessel.

‎And she is far less kind than Elara."


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