Chapter 54
Eirabella
“Valynia,” Rylan murmurs again, as if he’s unsure he said it the first time.
Beside him, I’m momentarily frozen, my hand still clasped in his, but it does nothing to ground me in a moment that feels impossibly surreal. The name falls from my own lips like a wisp of smoke, “Valynia?”
At the sound of my voice, Rylan drops my hand, his fingers pulling away, leaving a hollow ache where his warmth was. I glance up at him as he takes a step back from her, from me, and runs both hands through his hair. A wave of hurt and doubt crashes over me as I catch the way he looks at her. The emotion in his eyes—shock, recognition, and something else that goes far deeper—makes my chest tighten painfully.
Around us, the hall erupts in murmurs. Alina’s hand has flown to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock; Elara’s face is white as a sheet, while Caelum stands frozen, his gaze locked on Valynia as though he’s seen a spectre. Shocked gasps ripple through the crowd, whispers bubbling up like a rising tide as nobles and courtiers glance at one another in confusion and awe.
Valynia’s gaze lingers on Rylan, her silver eyes sparkling brighter than the stones now embedded in my skin. She is absolutely exquisite; if I weren’t standing so close to her, I would wonder if she were just an apparition. And the way she looks at him makes my heart ache. It’s filled with a longing that I know all too well.
“You grew up just like I knew you would,” she murmurs, her voice low and soft, yet it reaches us all. Her hand reaches up to skim across his face, and conflict flickers across his face before he frowns and takes another step back. “So handsome, Celestaris… so strong and skilled, and everything else I foresaw, even when you doubted yourself. I always did know you better than you knew yourself.” Her expression sharpens, the fondness shifting as she straightens, turning away from him. “But catching up will have to wait, precious. I’m here on business, after all.”
She steps toward the king, and with fluid elegance, she curtsies as she did to Rylan. Her movements are regal, each step calculated, commanding admiration. It reverberates from everyone watching. Jealousy stabs at me, hot and bitter; her every gesture speaks of an innate nobility that I can never emulate, of belonging in a way that leaves me feeling cold and alone. I glance back at Rylan, desperate for some reassurance, but his face is unreadable, his gaze fixed on her.
The king shifts on his throne, a flicker of unease shadowing his features. “Valynia, I must admit this is… unexpected. We all thought—”
“That I had died?” she finishes, sighing with mock exaggeration. “Yes, well, it was a close call, let’s put it that way. My mother managed to get me to a healer just in time, and after an interminably long recovery, here I am.” She glances around the room, savouring the effect her presence has created. “But we can discuss my miraculous return later. I come bearing a gift, Your Majesty, for these troubled times.”
The king’s eyes narrow, his scepticism barely concealed. “A gift?”
Valynia waves her hand, and two more of her guards crash through the hall entrance, hauling forward a body between them, dragging it through the hall. The figure is covered with a hessian bag, his body slumped. They throw him to the floor, and the hall falls silent, the anticipation weighing on the air, thick, pulsating.
“I understand, Your Majesty, that you’ve been searching for Kyros Valen,” Valynia says smoothly, a smirk pulling at her lips as she turns to address the king.
Rylan tenses beside me, the shock of seeing her still radiating from him, his whole body stiffening. My own body chills, the rebellion leader’s name bringing back memories of threats, of almost-lost battles in the woods, of Doran’s limp body in my arms. Everyone leans forward, as if unwilling to miss a word. I’ll give her this—she has a way of grabbing everyone’s attention.
The king cocks an eyebrow, suspicion warring with interest. “And you’re saying this is Kyros?” His voice rings with disbelief.
Valynia inclines her head, her smile widening as she scans the crowd. “I shall let you see for yourself, Your Majesty; it is a gift for you, after all.” She turns to address the shocked faces. “But prepare yourselves. I think you’ll all find this reveal… surprising.”
The king strides forward, ripping the bag off the prisoner’s head to reveal the man underneath. And this time, I’m the one who gasps the loudest.
It’s Mathis.
His entire face is bruised and bloodied, his body barely holding him upright as he struggles to catch his breath. My heart plummets, my mind reeling.
“No! It can’t be!” I whisper, the words trembling from my lips as my world turns on its head.
Rylan’s face pales as he turns to me, his voice tight, barely a breath as he also shakes his head in disbelief. “It’s not.”
Mathis looks barely conscious, his eyes almost swollen shut, but what I can see of his irises is dull with pain. A dirty white rag, stained with his blood, is stuffed in his mouth.
“Mathis!” I shout, lurching forward, reaching for him, but Caelum rushes forward, his arm shooting out to hold me back.
“No. You can’t,” he murmurs, his voice a warning as he pulls me to his side.
As if my movements have thawed his own body, Rylan steps forward, his voice booming, filled with anger. “What kind of sick joke is this? Captain Corvane is not Kyros Valen!”
Valynia turns to him, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “Oh, but he is, Your Highness. Every source I have points to him. Imagine my surprise to discover that our most trusted friend was the very leader of the Nir’ath Darin.” She circles Mathis slowly, her gaze cold. “He was always such a charmer. Seems he charmed you, Rylan.”
Rylan’s fury is palpable as he takes another step forward, pointing to Mathis. “Release him. Now .”
The king’s voice crashes through the hall like a hammer. “You will stand down, Prince Rylan!” He reaches down and tears the gag from Mathis’s mouth. Mathis sags forward, coughing violently, his face contorted in agony. “Answer me, Captain Corvane,” the king demands, his voice as cold as the steel of a blade. “Are you Kyros Valen?”
Mathis chokes, the words barely forming as his body trembles with the effort to speak. All he manages is a groan, his eyes glazed with pain.
Valynia steps forward, her tone mockingly gentle. “Your Majesty, as you know, I inherited my mother’s sentience strength. And we had a lovely talk earlier, my old friend Captain Corvane and I, during which he admitted to me that he is indeed Kyros Valen.” She lays a hand on Mathis’s shoulder and leans over as if whispering something in his ear, and he screams and falls to the ground, clutching at his temples. “Tell them. Tell them who you really are.”
Mathis shouts again, fighting to get to his knees, his eyes squeezed shut in pain as he finally says, “Kyros. Valen. Leader… of… Nir’ath… Darin…”
Valynia looks up at everyone, shrugging as if to say, I told you so.
No. No, I can’t… I won’t believe it. But…
It also… makes… perfect sense.
His combat skills, his proximity to the crown… his unexplained disappearances…
But. I would know. We’re close enough friends that… surely I would know?
Rylan’s disbelief flares into fury as he turns to the crowd, his voice rising with fierce conviction. “This is a lie! Mathis has been loyal to me, a protector of our people—he’d never betray Celador!”
Valynia’s gaze hardens as she stares at him. “Oh? And yet here we are. If you’re so certain, Rylan, perhaps I should provide you with even more proof?” Her tone is biting, smug. “Shall I show you who I ran across just wandering the streets of Narathia? ”
With a flick of her wrist, another man is dragged into the hall, tossed at Rylan’s feet. I gasp as I recognize him—it’s the prisoner Mathis had brought to the dungeons. He’s thinner, his face gaunt with fear, but he’s very much alive. How can that be? Rylan had at least alluded to this prisoner being taken to the dungeons and killed for his betrayal to the crown. What was he doing wandering around free, let alone alive?
Rylan’s face drains of colour. “Maren?”
Valynia tilts her head, watching Rylan with an almost pitying expression. “Yes. Oh, I’m sorry, did you think him dead? Well, that makes it twice now you’ve been wrong on that count. Your judgement’s obviously failing you, Rylan. It turns out, your loyal friend Mathis released him and lied to you about it.” She circles Maren, her voice low and dangerous. “Tell the king what you told me, Maren. And I suggest you do so honestly. I think you remember what happened the last time you lied to me.”
The king’s voice is cold steel. “You,” he says, circling Maren, looking at him as if he sees something of less value than the gunk under his shoe. “Tell me, who released you?”
Maren’s eyes flicker with terror, his lips pressed shut in defiance. But Valynia’s fingers twitch, and he convulses, clutching his head as if an invisible force were squeezing his very brain, his mouth gasping for air.
Holy gods, her sentience strength must be exceptional.
“It was Kyros,” Maren finally chokes out, his voice strained, raw with pain. “He led me out of the dungeons himself.”
The king’s face turns bright red, and I half expect him to tear the ballroom down with his anger. But then he takes a long, deep breath and says, his voice as cool as ice, “Guards. Take Captain Corvane—no, take Kyros Valen to the torture chambers. Strip him and tie him to the rack. We’ll uncover the truth soon enough.”
“No!” I shout, trying to fight against Caelum, but he holds me tight, his face just as pale as mine feels. “Rylan! Stop them! Help him!” I shout.
But I needn’t have bothered. He’s already moving.
With a wave of his hand, a wall of fire explodes, surrounding Mathis and separating him from the guards. I flinch back from the heat, a gasp escaping my lips. Rylan steps forward, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
“Do not lay a fucking hand on him,” Rylan’s voice cuts through the tense silence, each word thick with a deadly threat to anyone who dares to disobey. “Mathis Corvane is innocent. He’s not Kyros Valen.”
Valynia’s voice drips with accusation. “And how, exactly, would you know that?”
Rylan turns towards her, his eyes like ancient steel, impenetrable and cold. They exchange a look—a dark, knowing glance that feels as though it’s been a hundred years in the making, as if they’re two players in a game only they understand. And then he turns to face the king, to the gathered court, and takes a slow, deliberate breath.
“Because I am Kyros Valen.”
The hall plunges into stunned silence, the shock so potent it nearly knocks the breath from me. I stumble back, my heart hammering, my mind scrambling to piece together any thread of disbelief that could make this untrue.
What did he just say?
No. I must have misheard.
Or—he’s saying it to protect Mathis.
Yes. He would do anything to save his friend—this, I know. Anything .
Anything but… this. Anything but admit he’s the leader of the rebellion.
The rebellion that has sown chaos and violence across the kingdom.
The rebellion that killed Doran.
The rebellion whose sole purpose is to defy… the king. His father. Who he has admitted to hating above all else.
It hits me like ice through my veins, each realisation colder than the last. I shake my head, my throat painfully dry. “No. Rylan… please, gods, please, tell me it’s not true.” My voice breaks as I plead with him, desperate, praying he’ll deny it, that he’ll tell me this is some twisted nightmare.
But he doesn’t answer.
Instead, he tears the sleeves from his shirt, baring his arms. With one flex, the bronzed cuffs around his forearms snap and fall to the floor with a dull clang, revealing twin dagger tattoos etched into his skin—the unmistakable mark of the Nir’ath Darin. The mark of the rebellion.
Oh my gods.
All strength drains from my body, and Caelum struggles to hold me up as my legs falter even as he curses under his breath..
Rylan finally looks at me, his expression stripped bare. No mask, no shield, no wall—just raw, exposed guilt and sorrow. His eyes lock onto mine, and in that moment, I see it all: the regret, the pain, the weight of the secrets he’s held. “Please, Eirabella,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with grief. “Take care of Mathis. Take care of each other.” His voice wavers, and the depth of feeling in his gaze wrenches a broken sob from my chest. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I’m so sorry. You’ll understand one day.”
He raises two fingers to his lips and then holds them up to me in a V before pressing them to his heart.
Our secret sign.
V for Valora.
“Rylan…” I choke, my heart tearing apart as I shake my head, denial clawing at every fibre of my being. How is this happening? How could he do this? Everything I thought I knew about him is collapsing, every memory of him reframed by this monstrous betrayal. The trust I had in him, the faith—shattering into a thousand pieces with each second that he stands there, bearing that mark.
I watch helplessly as he reaches through the fire to grip Mathis’s shoulder, just once—a final gesture.
And then he turns back, a single desperate glance in my direction before a blinding flash of light erupts around him, searing my eyes.
When the light fades, he’s gone.
What… the fuck?
Where did he go?
My mind is reeling, searching for him, but all I find is emptiness. It takes me a moment to realise that Maren is gone as well. I wrench myself free from Caelum’s hold and stagger forward, lurching for the place where Rylan stood just moments ago. The spot is empty, his presence vanished like a ghost. Just silence and devastation, the only evidence of him left behind.
The entire hall remains frozen, every face contorted in disbelief, shock spreading through the crowd like wildfire. I clutch at my chest, as if holding myself together is the only way to keep my heart from splintering apart.
Then, the king’s voice rings out, each word a chilling decree that slices through the quiet. “From this moment forward, my son, former crown prince and heir to the throne of Celador, is a traitor to the realm. A handsome reward shall be given to anyone who provides news of his whereabouts… or brings me his head.”
I can barely stand, can barely breathe, the weight of Rylan’s betrayal pressing down on me with suffocating force. Everything I thought I knew, every truth I clung to, every piece of who I am and what I believed in—gone, shattered, crushed in one brutal instant. The man I trusted, defended… loved … a stranger, a liar, the very enemy we’ve been fighting. And now he’s gone, leaving me alone to face the ruin of everything I once believed in.
The king’s gaze then turns to me, his voice unyielding as he declares, “And so shall the trials for a new Celestaris commence.”