Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Soria and Ace speak aloud all the questions that linger in my own mind—and surely Vale’s as well.
“Normally I’d love the intrigue of a conspiracy. Court’s grown so boring before your arrival, Mira dear, but this…” Ace paces, uncertain where to place the energy stewing inside him. “Too much danger. Too close to those who matter most to me. I don’t like it.”
“None of us do,” Vale replies. “This shows a coordinated effort. Calculated strikes. And as much as it pains me to admit, it’s likely from within our own walls—possibly by those we trust most.”
I see the war raging behind his eyes: the urge to protect colliding with the need to plan. His brow furrows, frustration and betrayal etched into every line of his face.
“They knew she’d walk alone. Many were involved in the planning stages, but still… these aren’t the actions of an outsider. At least not alone. They’d need someone close. Someone relaying our every move.”
Soria sits beside me, one hand over mine, the other holding the letter. “They were sharing when she’d be most vulnerable. Most exposed.” She squeezes my hand—a silent reminder that I am still here. Still safe. “And this last line… ‘Long live the Ironborne Flame.’”
I feel her shiver as the words pass her lips.
“It’s unsettling,” she whispers. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. Not yet. But it reeks of propaganda.” Vale strikes the stone wall near the hearth with his fist. I jolt at the suddenness.
After a long silence, I mutter, “It’s a blessing and a curse.” I stand and walk to him, threading my arm through his—for comfort, for solidarity.
I turn toward Soria and Ace, both now shifting uneasily in the room that has so often felt like a haven.
“That means it isn’t personal,” I say, my voice strengthening. I look up at Vale—more warrior than lover in this moment, a man ready to burn the world down to keep his people safe. “It means it’s not about me—what I should or shouldn’t be, whether or not I’m accepted.”
I pause.
“I’m sure I still have work to do to earn and keep the kingdom’s favor. But maybe the attack wasn’t against me. Not directly. And if it’s against our home, all of Caerhollan will rise. Your people are loyal. If there’s a threat, they won’t sit idly by.”
“Our people,” Vale corrects gently. The steel in him cracks just enough to let his love shine through. “They’re your people too, Mira. And you’re right—we don’t face this battle alone. If something seeks to destroy us, we are a united front.”
“No faction stands a chance,” Ace adds with a smirk. I can almost see him painting a mental picture of some small-time villain against the full might of our kingdom. “Once we uncover who they are,” he continues, only slightly resigned.
“I have to speak with Odrin soon. He’s surely reached the same conclusion. We should prepare to return,” Vale says, the frustration flaring again in his eyes. “But not without a plan. This is not a matter for the council at large. We don’t yet know who we can trust.”
It is too much. The flickers of magic. A threat with an unknown agenda. The weight of it all pressed in.
As overwhelmed as I am, the urge to make a stand only deepens.
I would love nothing more than a peaceful—dull, even—honeymoon with my husband. But every semblance of calm has been rocked by revelation after revelation.
Still, I take measure of things. I had gone from a fleeting lifetime to potentially many with the man I love. So much remains frightening and unknown—but I would be a fool to ignore the gift I’d been given.
I heal fast. Faster than anyone should. That grants a measure of safety. One that feels more imperative now more than ever, as larger forces close in.
The fate of our kingdom might rest on what we do next.
But I am not alone. I am in the company of people I trust with my life.
I don’t know if I’m caught in some unbearable paradox, or standing at a rare point of balance between opposing forces. Either way, I must find a way to tip the scales in our favor.
Vale has gone to the study to draft a message. Daerin, resting in the guards’ quarters for the evening, will ride at first light to deliver it to Odrin personally. The only way to ensure it arrived safely—and without interference.
Soria is off tending to matters so we can leave in the coming days, as soon as we feel ready.
Everything moves without asking me. Here and at the High Hold alike. Try as I might to hold some control over my fate, the world shapes itself to its own will. At times I feel like merely a bystander. Nonetheless I seek refuge when and where I can. Often in the simplest ways.
I step outside. Standing on the terrace just beyond the parlor, I let the night wrap around me. It’s quieter out here. Still. Toads croak softly from the pond nearby, and I feel a little less alone.
Without disturbing the peace, Ace joins me at my side.
“Here,” he says, offering a mug. The tendril of steam curls up into the warm night air. “I figured this might help settle some nerves.”
“I’m not nervous,” I reply too quickly.
We both know it isn’t true. I stop myself, accepting the mug, and hold it with both hands.
The staff had been dismissed after dinner. He’d brewed this himself. A small, quiet act of care.
“Thank you.”
He nods, forgiving the earlier deflection with grace. We stand in easy silence, side by side.
“We don’t have to figure it all out right away,” he says eventually. “A plan, I mean.”
He stares into the distance, his voice calm and certain.
“Just the next step. Okay, maybe the next two or three. But that’s all. Gods know if we tried planning more than that, we’d be tempting fate.”
He lets out a quiet laugh and takes a sip.
I swirl the liquid in my mug. It doesn’t hold answers. But it holds warmth—and friendship.
As we stand there together, my thoughts take on a different shape.
“There’s magic around us, even now,” I tell him softly. “What do you see when you look out?”
“Uh… trees,” he replies, wincing at his own blandness.
I grin.
But in true Ace fashion, he rallies, raising a finger to buy himself a moment. Then, with more flourish:
“I see the way the moonlight lines every edge in silver. The distance across the valley feels immense and intimate all at once. The mountain peaks make me feel like I could touch the stars if I stood atop them.”
He clears his throat. Sincerity suits him—even if it isn’t his default setting.
“What do you see, Mira?” he asks.
I lean in slightly, drawn by his earnestness.
“Silver moonlight, yes,” I say, eyes scanning the landscape. “But also… so much more. It’s like the way water bends light into rainbows. Every color is alive, radiant, moving. It’s all… living.” I nudge him playfully, still gazing outward. “I wish you could see it the way I do.”
“Maybe someday I will,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “You’ve already shown us that anything is possible.”
Before I can respond, he adds, “You got our brooding king to fall in love, after all.”
I drop my head, grinning at the affectionate tease—just as Vale joins us outside. “Odrin will be ready to speak privately when we return,” he says. He pauses when he sees us, caught mid-laughter, our smiles barely contained. “What were you two talking about?”
“Oh, the usual,” Ace answers breezily. “Just how Mira must truly be magic to thaw your cold heart.”
Vale steps to my side, hand resting at the small of my back. “I wouldn’t call it cold,” he says with a smirk. “I was just waiting.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I lean into him.
The heat of the day had faded. Thankfully, the only chill in the air now comes from the evening—not from uncertainty.
“If they finish preparations tomorrow, we can leave the day after,” Soria says as she steps onto the terrace. Her voice is brisk, all business—until she sees the three of us staring off into the distance. She tilts her head. “What are you looking at?”
I answer without thinking.
“Whatever comes next.”