---
The Silver Garden shimmered in the morning light, its petals kissed by dew and diplomacy. Elara stood beneath the arch of carved marble, her gown trailing behind her like a whisper. The roses—gifts from Vale—bloomed in full, their silver edges catching the sun.
Lady Maelis approached with grace and familiarity. Her hair was pinned in the Valean style, her eyes sharp with memory.
"You haven't changed," Maelis said.
Elara smiled. "You have."
Maelis laughed. "I had to. You became queen."
---
They walked slowly, the garden paths winding like old stories. Elara's heart was light—lighter than it had been in weeks. The message from Vale had been clear: support, loyalty, love. Her mother's handwriting had been unmistakable.
> "We are proud of you. We stand with you. And Kael."
Elara had cried when she read it. Quietly. Alone. She knew that she really wasn't her real mother who wrote it but the mother of Lyria, but she couldn't help the feelings she had for Lyria family , like they were her own.
Now, with Maelis beside her, she felt the past and present folding into each other.
---
"You look happy," Maelis said.
"I am," Elara replied.
"Is it him?"
Elara nodded. "It's always been him."
Maelis paused. "Even when he didn't choose you?"
Elara's voice was soft. "Especially then."
---
They sat beneath the willow tree, the breeze gentle, the silence comfortable.
"I remember the orchard," Maelis said. "You used to climb the trees and dare me to follow."
Elara laughed. "You always fell."
"You always caught me."
Elara's smile faded. "I still would."
Maelis reached for her hand. "I know."
---
Later, in Elara's solar, they shared tea. Kael passed by the doorway, paused, then entered.
"Lady Maelis," he said with a nod.
"Your Majesty," she replied.
Elara watched them. The tension was subtle, but present.
Kael sat beside Elara, his hand resting lightly on hers.
Maelis noticed.
"You love her," she said.
Kael didn't blink. "More than anything."
Elara's breath caught, she knew he had began to have feels for her but,she didn't think he was in love with her.
Maelis smiled. "Good."
---
They spoke of trade, of borders, of Vale's shifting alliances. Maelis unfolded a parchment—ambassador proposals, economic plans, cultural exchanges.
One name stood out.
Lord Renar.
Elara's jaw tightened. "He's ambitious."
Maelis's voice was calm. "He's effective."
Kael leaned forward. "He's dangerous."
Maelis met his gaze. "So is she."
---
The conversation turned.
Maelis spoke of Vale's internal politics—fractures, whispers, old families rising.
Elara listened.
Kael watched.
Maelis's tone was measured, but her eyes held warning.
"Not all support is simple," she said. "Some comes with expectation."
Elara's voice was steel. "I don't owe anyone."
Maelis nodded. "But they think you do."
---
That night, Elara and Kael walked the garden paths alone.
She leaned into him.
He kissed her temple.
"I love you," he said.
She smiled, this was the first time he had said he loved her to her face,and she couldn't get enough.
"Say it again."
"I love you."
She stopped walking.
Turned.
Held his face in her hands.
She had her little doubt but if she was sure about one thing,it was that she was madly in love with him,and she hoped he really meant what he said.
"I love you too."
They kissed.
Slow.
Certain.
And the roses bloomed around them.
---
In the morning, Maelis prepared to leave.
Elara walked her to the carriage.
"You'll send word?" Elara asked.
Maelis nodded. "Always."
She paused.
Then handed Elara a sealed envelope.
"For your eyes only."
Elara waited until the carriage was gone.
Then opened it.
Inside, a single line:
> "Lord Renar arrives in three weeks. Be ready."
Elara folded the note.
And said nothing.
---
Three weeks later
The bells of Thorne tolled noon as the black carriage from Vale rolled through the palace gates. Its lacquered surface gleamed like obsidian, unadorned save for the faint sigil of a silver hawk etched into the door. No fanfare, no banners—just silence and steel.
Elara stood at the top of the palace steps, Kael at her side. His hand brushed hers, a quiet tether between them. She didn't need to look at him to feel the tension in his stance.
The door opened.
Lord Renar emerged.
He was taller than she remembered, his dark hair streaked with silver at the temples, his eyes sharp and unreadable. He bowed low, but the gesture was too precise, too practiced.
"Your Majesty," he said, voice smooth as velvet. "Vale sends its strength and its trust."
Elara inclined her head. "And its envoy."
"A pleasure to serve," he replied, straightening.
Kael's jaw tightened.
Elara smiled. "Come. Let's not waste the sun."
---
The council chamber was already assembled. Lucien, ever watchful, offered a nod as Renar entered. The other members of the Sovereign Assembly murmured among themselves, eyes flicking between the queen and her guest.
Renar took a seat without invitation.
Elara noted it.
She said nothing.
"Vale proposes a joint oversight committee," Renar began, unrolling a scroll. "To ensure the new trade routes remain equitable."
Elara's voice was calm. "You mean controlled."
Renar smiled. "You say controlled. I say protected."
Kael leaned forward. "Protected from whom?"
Renar's gaze slid to him. "From instability. From ambition. From the ghosts of exile."
A silence fell.
Dorian's name was not spoken.
But it hung in the air like smoke.
---
That evening, Elara stood at the window of her solar, watching the garden below. Kael entered quietly, his presence a balm.
"He's not here to advise," Kael said. "He's here to measure."
Elara nodded. "And to report."
Kael came to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "You're not alone in this."
She leaned into him. "I know."
He turned her gently, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "Do you trust him?"
"I trust that he's dangerous," she said. "And that Vale sent him for a reason."
Kael's brow furrowed. "Do you think Maelis knew?"
Elara hesitated. "I think she hoped I'd be ready."
He kissed her then—slow, reverent, like a vow.
---
The next morning, a sealed letter arrived from the northern provinces.
Lucien read it aloud in the war room.
"Whispers of Seraphina's name," he said. "They call her the true heir. The Flame Queen."
Elara's expression didn't change.
Kael's did.
"She's stirring something," he said.
Elara nodded. "Then we'll stir faster."
---
Renar requested a private audience.
They met in the Silver Garden.
He walked slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
"You've built something impressive," he said.
Elara didn't respond.
"But impressive things attract attention," he continued. "And attention invites challenge."
Elara's voice was cool. "Is that a warning?"
Renar smiled. "It's a compliment."
---
That night, Elara found a note on her pillow.
No seal.
No signature.
Just a single line:
> "The hawk does not circle without prey."
She folded it carefully.
And placed it in the fire.
---