33. Chapter 33
“ Y ou are radiant tonight. I almost forgot how striking you can be, Your Highness.”
Kaelin heard Sylven’s voice before she allowed herself to look at him. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. She had watched him circling the ballroom all evening like a vulture seeking an unguarded scrap, and she had made a precise art of weaving around him.
Until now.
Sylven, commander of prison transport and border control.
The same Sylven whose heavy-handed cruelty had been mentioned in Talen’s last report.
Whose incompetence, or defiance, had delayed his return to Pyraelia by nearly twice the time the crown allotted.
Maelion had already prepared the formal reprimand.
But tonight, Kaelin had been instructed to be civil.
So, she lifted her gaze to him. His eyes were already tracing her from the hem of her gown upward, lingering with interest at the line of her bodice before dragging reluctantly back to her face.
Kaelin arched a single brow. “You are prompt in your observations.”
It was a verbal door shut cleanly in his face.
But Sylven stepped forward anyway, sensing a crack. “Only fitting I notice what the entire court already sees,” he murmured. “You’ve stolen the room tonight, My Lady. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. ”
Kaelin took a deliberate sip of her wine, letting the pause sit heavy between them. “Then do try harder.”
But Sylven only chuckled as though she were flirting and not issuing a warning. Sylven extended a hand toward her, palm up. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”
The music swelled around them and for a breath, Kaelin simply stood there, wine glass cooling her fingers. Then, her gaze drew upward. Across the ballroom, raised above the crush of nobles and courtiers, Lyra stood at the dais.
Their eyes met. Lyra gave Kaelin a single, solemn nod.
Kaelin felt the familiar tightening in her chest. Her expression smoothed into a mask of effortless grace.
She set her wine aside.
Then, with the elegance expected of the princess heir of House Vaelaran, Kaelin placed her hand into Sylven’s outstretched palm. His smile brightened with misplaced confidence.
Kaelin’s fingers lay cool and light in his grasp, offering nothing more than what politics required.
Sylven guided her into the turning ring of dancers, his palm settling at her waist with the confidence of a man who’d mistaken tolerance for interest. Kaelin followed the steps flawlessly because a princess always did.
“Tell me, Princess,” Sylven began as they spun beneath a chandelier, “have you many suitors for your hand?”
“A few,” Kaelin answered with the same energy one uses to acknowledge a housefly. “None worth noting.”
Sylven leaned in closer, breath brushing her ear. “Then allow me to offer my name to that list. I would like to court you, My Lady.”
Kaelin’s spine stiffened. Her lips parted, a pointed refusal danced on the edge of her tongue.
But she never got to speak it.
“Dear sister.”
Both she and Sylven turned as Talen stepped into their path, boots planted, posture sharp with authority. His expression was polite enough for court, but the muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed him.
“Sylven,” Talen said coolly, “I will need to steal my dear sister.”
Irritation pricked Sylven’s features. “Now? I’m in the middle of – ”
“Yes,” Talen replied, tone brooking no argument. “Now.”
Kaelin felt Sylven’s hand falter at her waist before he reluctantly released her, slipping away with a stiffness that suggested he believed himself wronged.
Kaelin lifted her chin. “Your interest is noted, but misplaced. You’re not what I’m looking for.” Talen nudged her side, warning her to stop there, but Kaelin continued. “When I choose a suitor, it will be a woman. So, courting me would be a waste of both of our precious time.”
Sylven’s jaw twitched. His gaze darted toward Talen, something calculating sparking behind his eyes. “Well, desire can often be confused. Perhaps you simply think you prefer women. You might discover you want someone like me.”
Kaelin’s answering smile was luminous and utterly lethal. “Oh, Sylven,” she said sweetly, smoothly slipping her arm through Talen’s. “I assure you, I know exactly what I want.” She paused. “And it will never be you.”
Before Sylven could sputter another word, Kaelin tugged Talen away, her heels clicking like punctuation marks of finality.
Kaelin didn’t stop dragging Talen until they slipped behind a column near the far edge of the ballroom, far enough that the music muffled their steps yet close enough that Sylven’s wounded pride still burned in the air.
Kaelin dropped Talen’s sleeve and muttered, “That was pitiful. I could smell the desperation from across the room.”
Talen snorted under his breath. “Mother and Father might find his eagerness charming. You know they’ll expect you to consider suitors soon. In fact, I think Mother keeps a list – ”
Kaelin’s head snapped toward him, but the irritation on her face evaporated instantly. “Why do you look like that?” she demanded.
“Like what?” Talen tried to school his expression.
“Like someone on the brink of panic. What’s wrong?”
Talen hesitated a beat too long .
Kaelin stepped closer, voice dropping. “Tell me.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Ren is gone.”
“Gone… meaning she’s left the ballroom to get air, or gone meaning – ”
“She’s not in the ballroom,” Talen said quickly.
“I checked twice. Then I went to her room. Empty. Training yard? Empty. Library, stables – nothing.” He swallowed hard, voice cracking just enough to betray the panic he’d tried to hide.
“Kaelin, she’s just… gone. But all her things are still in her room. ”
A long silence stretched between them.
Then Kaelin’s expression flattened into a deadpan. “And this is exactly why I never trusted her.” Kaelin folded her arms. “You give a human a ball gown and a contract, and the moment you look away, she vanishes. Remind me again why we’re surprised?”
“She wouldn’t just run ,” Talen insisted.
“Wouldn’t she?”
Talen began to pace short strides at first, then longer ones as his thoughts spiraled faster than his boots could keep up with. “No, Ren wouldn’t just run. She’s many things, but a coward isn’t one of them.” He dragged a hand through his hair again. “Unless… something came up.”
He stopped, staring at a point on the wall as though it might answer him.
“She’s impulsive,” he went on. “Gods, she throws herself headfirst into danger without thinking. Maybe she got wind of another creature. Maybe she thought she could take it alone.” His jaw clenched. “But she wouldn’t leave without me. She knows that’s not how this works. She knows – ”
He cut himself off, resuming his pacing with renewed agitation.
Kaelin leaned a shoulder against the marble column, watching him with a face carved from icy calm. Her gaze tracked him back and forth, back and forth, like following a tethered storm.
Finally, when he passed her for the fifth time, she spoke softly, “Talen.”
He froze.
“In the contract, there was no clause stating she had to hunt with you. ”
Talen’s throat bobbed. “That’s… not what she would do.”
“Ren answers to coin and whatever reckless instinct drives her. Not to you.”
“That’s not fair,” Talen protested.
“It’s realistic,” Kaelin countered, pushing off the column with a graceful ease.
“You assume loyalty where none was promised. And you forget Ren is not one of us. Her world doesn’t revolve around the crown.
Or you.” Kaelin stepped closer, lowering her voice.
“If she heard whispers of a creature and if she thought it would earn her coin faster, she might very well have gone alone.”
“No,” Talen whispered.
Kaelin brushed past him.
“Where are you going?” Talen asked.
Kaelin lifted a hand in a lazy, dismissive wave. “To get more wine. And a good book.”
He stared at her, appalled. “Kaelin – ”
She paused just long enough to glance back over her shoulder, expression cool as winter frost. “Oh, relax. Something tells me this is going to be a very long night, and I refuse to endure it sober or bored.”
The Hall of Embers was quiet save for the crackling hearth.
The vast chamber, built for feasts and war councils, now felt cavernous and hollow, its benches empty.
At the far end, Kaelin was seated on a velvet bench near the fire, wine forgotten in her grasp, posture still, like she’d been waiting longer than she cared to admit.
Talen lingered a step away, leaning against the carved table with a casualness that didn’t reach his eyes.
Ren stopped just past the threshold.
It was Talen who spoke first. “You’re alive.”
Ren said, “Last I checked.”
“Where were you?” Kaelin demanded.
Ren clenched her jaw, gaze flickering between them. “I didn’t have time to explain. ”
“Explain now,” Talen urged.
Ren inhaled once, steadying herself. The memory of it still made her skin prickle. “I had a vision of the second creature during the ball. I saw where it was hiding, and I had to go. If I waited, it would’ve been gone.”
Talen’s brows drew together. “So, you just ran after it?”
Kaelin’s stare sharpened. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?”
“What did you expect me to do? Tap you on the shoulder while you were dancing with half the court and say, ‘Excuse me, Your Royal Highness, I’m off to hunt a monster that called to me?”
Talen’s tone softened this time. “You could’ve told me.”
“I didn’t have time. It felt… urgent. Like if I didn’t go right then, something terrible would happen.” She met Talen’s gaze fully. “I had to go to it.”
Kaelin straightened slowly, eyes narrowing as they raked over her. “So, you went in alone.” She gave a pause before adding, “Foolish.”
Ren gave a weak shrug. “Maybe. But it needed to be done.”
Talen asked, “What happened?”
“We fought. It didn’t die, but it fed me a memory,” she answered at last. “The truth of what happened the night everything went to hell.”
“And?” Kaelin pressed.