Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RAOUL
We flew through the afternoon and into the night, arcing across the sky toward Silvervale, descending toward Silvervale’s peaks as the first hint of dawn touched the horizon.
The mountains rose like frozen waves, their surfaces catching the pre-dawn light and transforming it into something ethereal.
It felt different from our last visit. Then, I’d been bracing for hostility and accusations. Now, I carried hope that we could actually fix this.
Adele moved on my back, her exhaustion palpable. We’d been flying all night, and she’d barely slept for days, too focused on solving this problem.
Almost there, I said. Are you alright?
I’m fine.
You’re a terrible liar.
Her laugh came out soft, tired. I’ll rest when this is over. Promise.
Queen Mortiven met us in the courtyard, flanked by only two advisors instead of the full reception committee from last time. Her hair had been pulled back, and her face was welcoming, though a bit guarded.
Progress.
After Adele slid off my back, I shifted to my usual form.
“King Raoul. Queen Adele.” Mortiven’s voice came out carefully neutral. “Your message said you’d found a possible cause.”
“We have,” Adele said. “And if we’re right, we have a solution.”
Something flickered in Mortiven’s eyes. Hope, maybe. Or fear that we were wrong and this nightmare would continue.
“Come inside,” the queen said. “We’ve prepared rooms for you to rest. When you’re ready, you can present your findings to my full council. Perhaps over a late breakfast?”
“That would be fine,” I said.
She led us through corridors I recognized from our previous visit, but the atmosphere had shifted. Guards still watched us, but without the open suspicion from before. People we passed in hallways nodded rather than glared.
Word had spread that we were trying to help, that we weren’t the enemy.
We were taken to the same rooms with windows overlooking the peaks. Queen Mortiven left us, and the moment the door closed, Adele swayed.
I caught her, pulling her against my chest. “Bed. Now.”
“I need to review my notes one last time.”
“You need to sleep.” I guided her toward the bedroom, ignoring her half-hearted protests. “You can’t present anything if you collapse from exhaustion.”
“I won’t do that.”
“Adele.” I turned her to face me, needing her to see how serious I was. “You’ve been working for days. We flew all night.”
“You flew all night. I dozed.”
“Not much. You’re about to attempt complex weather magic that could solve a crisis or make things worse if you’re too tired to focus. Sleep isn’t optional.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Two hours. That’s all I need.”
“You can have three. I’m worried about you.”
I could tell that last bit convinced her because her shoulders drooped.
I kissed her quickly, pressing my forehead against hers after. “Three hours. Then breakfast with the council. After that, you’ll save this court, and I’ll worship at your amazing feet.”
That got a smile. “You’re very dramatic.”
“I’m a dragon king. Drama comes with the position.” I pulled back the covers, gesturing for her to get in. “Sleep, sweet. I’ll wake you in plenty of time.”
She climbed into bed. I stripped down to my undergarment and slid in beside her, and she immediately curled into me, her head finding that perfect spot on my chest.
We both slept and woke to soft morning light filtering through the windows.
“Time?” she asked, her voice rough with sleep.
“Almost.” I kissed her forehead. “How do you feel?”
“Better.” She stretched, her body warm and soft against mine. “Still tired, but functional.”
“Nothing says trust my scientific expertise like I’m functional.“
She tapped my chest, but she was smiling. “I’ll be alright once I eat something and review my notes.”
We rose, bathed, and dressed in the formal clothing we’d brought, knowing presentation mattered at a council meeting. Adele braided her hair back, and I watched her transform from my sleepy wife into Queen Adele, weather witch and problem solver.
Fates, she was magnificent.
A knock at the door announced our escort, a young guard who led us through corridors now bustling with morning activity. People nodded as we passed, and I caught snippets of conversation.
“That’s the Emberforge queen.”
“They say she found the cause.”
“My sister’s baby has suffered terribly. If this works…”
So many people counted on us to get this right.
The formal dining room was less crowded than during our first visit, but every seat held someone important. Queen Mortiven sat at the head of the table, her advisors arranged around her. I recognized most of them from before, including the stern woman who’d questioned everything Adele said.
But the atmosphere felt different now. More humble, maybe. Like they’d realized accusations and pride wouldn’t save their hatchlings.
“Queen Adele.” Mortiven stood, gesturing to seats near her. “Please, join us. We’re eager to hear what you’ve discovered.”
We settled into our chairs, and servants appeared immediately with food. Eggs prepared in a variety of ways, pastries, fresh bread, and fruit arranged simply but beautifully. My stomach growled.
Adele pulled out her notebook, spreading it on the table beside her plate. “Thank you for meeting with us. I know the situation has been difficult for everyone.”
“One could call it that,” the stern advisor said, though her tone lacked the sharp edge from before.
“I believe I’ve identified the cause of your hatchlings’ symptoms,” Adele said. “If I’m correct, it’s environmental, not intentional. Ancient ice formations exposed by the tremor two months ago.”
She explained the sublimation process, showing them her diagrams and data. I watched the council members’ faces as understanding dawned, followed by varying degrees of relief and embarrassment.
“So it may not be Goldwing,” one advisor said quietly. “We accused them of poisoning our children, and it could just be melting ice.”
“Ice no one knew was there,” Adele said gently. “How could you have known? This isn’t anyone’s fault.”
“Except we made it worse by threatening war instead of working together to find answers.” Mortiven’s jaw remained tight. “If you’re correct, I’ll send my apologies to King Trevare. My court acted rashly.”
“Goldwing’s court made similar accusations,” I said. “Both sides escalated out of fear for their children. That’s understandable, even if it wasn’t helpful.”
The stern advisor leaned forward, studying Adele’s notes. “You said you have a solution?”
“Yes.” Adele’s confidence never wavered. “We’ll need to accelerate the sublimation process in a controlled way, preventing particle dispersal to populated areas. I can use my weather magic to create thermal barriers that direct the particles upward, where they’ll float away harmlessly.”
“That sounds complicated,” a lord at the end of the table said.
“It is. But it’ll work.” Adele met each person’s eyes in turn. “I’ve manipulated larger weather systems. This is just more focused.”
“How long will it take?” Mortiven asked.
“To locate all the formations and complete the process? A day or two. But I can set up temporary measures immediately that should reduce symptoms while we work on the permanent solution, like humidity wards in the nurseries. Moisture in the air will capture the particles before they reach the babies’ airways, significantly reducing irritation.
” Adele pulled out another diagram. “It’s not a cure, but it’ll make them more comfortable while we eliminate the source. ”
Everyone exchanged glances.
Mortiven nodded. “Show us.”
Within a short time, we stood in a nursery in Silvervale’s mid-levels, surrounded by exhausted parents and fussy babies, including the same family we’d visited before, their tiny daughter still sneezing and coughing.
Adele knelt beside the cradle, speaking over her shoulder. “I’m going to cast a humidity ward. You’ll feel the air change. It’ll get slightly heavier. That’s normal.”
The mother nodded, clutching her husband’s hand.
I watched Adele work, fascinated as always by the way her magic manifested. She didn’t need grand gestures or dramatic incantations. Just deep focus and an innate understanding of atmospheric systems that most weather witches spent lifetimes trying to achieve.
The air in the nursery shifted enough to notice, and I felt a subtle dampness, like we were standing near a waterfall on a summer day.
A baby sneezed, then…nothing.
Time passed. The parents held their breath, afraid to hope.
The babies’ breathing evened out, the rattling wheezes fading. The little girl’s tiny face relaxed, no longer scrunched in discomfort, and she fell asleep.
“Oh,” the mother whispered, tears streaming down her face. “Oh, she’s breathing better.”
“The ward I crafted will capture airborne particles before they reach her,” Adele said, rising to her feet. “It’s not permanent, and you’ll need to refresh it periodically until we eliminate the source. But it should help.”
“How do we do that?” the father asked.
Adele spent some time teaching them the spell, a humidity charm that the parents could manage with practice. She was patient and thorough, making sure they understood every step.
By the time we left that nursery, the babies were sleeping peacefully for the first time in months.
We visited six more nurseries and all the homes with hatchlings that morning, setting up wards and teaching the spell. At each, the pattern repeated, skepticism giving way to hope, hope turning into tears of happiness as babies found relief.
At the last home, a small dwelling in the lower levels where a single mother struggled to care for twins, both babies stopped sneezing within minutes of the ward activation. The mother broke down, sobbing so hard she could barely speak.
Adele held her while she cried.
Watching her, my chest cracked open. This compassionate woman had crashed into my carefully orderly life and rearranged everything. She’d challenged me, supported me, and made me want to be better than I’d ever thought possible.
And I loved her.
Love. Real, deep, terrifying love that made my dragon want to roar its claim for every court to hear.
Adele glanced up, catching my expression, and her brow furrowed. What?
Nothing. Just watching you work.
You’re staring at me like I’ve grown a wart on my nose.
I’m staring at you like you’re special. Because you are.
Color rose in her cheeks. Stop distracting me. I have work to do.
Yes, Your Majesty.