Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
The bells rang across Seraveth at midday, summoning the city to the central plaza.
Jesenia stood at the edge of the steps leading to the assembly, her shawl drawn close against the pale light, the noise of the crowd folding around her like a restless tide.
Everyone within the walls of Solmiris was called to the plaza for an announcement by the king.
As much as she wanted to hide or sink into the shadows of the crowd, she knew Val-Theris’s eyes would find her.
Despite her presence bringing him grief from his councilors and his people, she joined the refugees in the plaza. The unrest between the citizens and the foreigners simmered hotly between bodies, but graciously both sides kept to themselves.
Banners of crimson and ivory swayed faintly in the dry breeze, the carved marble platform at the top of the steps leading to the upper terraces glowing beneath the harsh sun. Jesenia could feel the judgmental eyes of the council watching her from behind Val-Theris.
He stood on the platform, his wings half-furled behind him, pale feathers catching the sun like fractured glass.
“We are one city,” he said, his voice calm but carrying, washing over the restless crowd below. “Our walls hold us together, our blood runs together, and our survival depends on our unity.”
Murmurs rolled through the plaza, harsh and uneven, the old wounds refusing to close.
Jesenia caught a flicker of movement near the western archway, and something cold slid beneath her skin.
And then she saw a glint of metal just a few people over, half-hidden beneath a sleeve, sunlight flashing briefly against the edge of steel.
Her breath stopped.
“Val-Theris!” she shouted, knowing that he would hear her, at least enough to heighten his attention to the people around him. Her body followed her voice, lunging in the direction of the figure with the dagger.
The sound of the crowd fractured in an instant, gasps swallowed by chaos as Val-Theris turned sharply, wings flaring wide as the blade clanged harmlessly against polished armor inches from his exposed neck, missing its target only because Jesenia managed to shove her body into the assassin’s just in time.
The Hastati surged into motion, scattering through the lower tiers, pulling civilians down into cover as screams rippled through the plaza. Somewhere beneath the thunder of boots and the clash of armor, Jesenia felt a hard grip on her arm and stumbled backward—straight into Val-Theris.
His wings folded half around her instinctively, a shield of feathers cutting her off from the sight of the crowd, his voice low but razor-edged near her ear.
“Stay near me.”
She opened her mouth to argue, to say anything, but before she could, another figure broke from the crowd. This one wasn’t aiming for Val-Theris.
They were aiming for her. Jesenia barely saw the second blade before Val-Theris moved.
There was no hesitation as he stepped between her and the strike, his hand closing around the attacker’s wrist with bone-cracking force.
The would-be assassin crumpled to the ground as guards closed in, dragging them backward through the scattering chaos. But Val-Theris didn’t release Jesenia, his grip secure around her forearm.
“It’s alright. You’re safe,” he said softly, almost to himself, though his voice trembled with a quiet fury beneath the words. “I have you.”
She could hear the promise layered beneath command, and before she could respond, the plaza roared again as the crowd surged against the Hastati, panic threading like wildfire through their ranks.
When both attackers had been restrained, Val-Theris turned sharply, wings still half-furled around her, his gaze cutting toward the cluster of councilors at the rear steps.
Varin stood at their center, calm and untouched, his expression carefully composed.
But Val-Theris’s stare burned like a blade driven clean through steel.
Jesenia’s pulse thudded violently beneath her ribs, the truth settling cold and heavy in her chest.
Of course they had something to do with it, even if there was no proof. The attempt had been staged, engineered to rattle his authority.
It had been a message.
Val-Theris stood inches from her, his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged breaths and his pale hair disheveled. He pulled her to the side, away from the prying eyes of the council and shielded them both with the vastness of his wings.
“You should not have done that,” he said, his voice low, raw, the words more plea than scold. “If he had hurt you—”
“But he didn’t,” Jesenia interrupted, her voice trembling but firm. “Val-Theris, he was aiming for you.”
His wings twitched behind him, feathers unsettled, his pale gaze fixed on her with a kind of unblinking intensity.
“You cannot–” he cut himself off, almost raggedly, “throw yourself between me and blades meant for my throat. I can bear my death. But I cannot—” His voice cracked with words he wouldn’t dare say out loud.
I cannot bear yours.
Jesenia’s heart thudded hard, her hand lifting without thought, brushing his jaw where it tightened. His skin was warm beneath her touch, trembling faintly.
“Do you understand what that would have done to me?” he asked softly.
Jesenia opened her mouth, but Val-Theris cut across her silence, his voice low, ragged in a way she had never heard from him before: “I have tried to be your sovereign and friend. I have tried to be anything but this. But when that second knife struck—”
He stopped, the tension sharp in the air between them, his jaw tight, his wings trembling faintly where sunlight burned at their tips.
Val-Theris reached for her, slowly, carefully, his hand trembling faintly as he lifted it toward her cheek.
Jesenia didn’t move, didn’t breathe, letting the closeness fill the space between them like a held breath.
His fingertips brushed the curve of her jaw, like he was memorizing the shape of her. For a long, taut moment, they stared at one another, breath mingling, close enough that she could see the flecks of fury and firelight caught in his pale blue irises.
He leaned in, his forehead nearly touching hers, his hand lifting to cradle the back of her neck. The weight of the world narrowed into the heat of his breath against her lips.
Her lips parted, her breath catching. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
For a heartbeat, it seemed he would close the distance. His mouth hovered a whisper from hers, his hand tightening against her neck, his wings drawing in closer as though to seal them away from the world.
But then he pulled back just enough to look at her. His voice shook, but the words were steady. “Val-Oros was wrong. You will not be this kingdom’s undoing.”
Jesenia’s body relaxed, but stiffened once more when he said:
“But I think you will be mine.”
She looked up at him, her cheeks heating with something…vulnerable. “Val-Theris, don’t say such things.”
“I know,” he said, ragged, “They would never forgive us.”
They stood there, trembling, on the edge of surrender. But when footsteps echoed behind them, the spell shattered, and Val-Theris tore himself back a step, wings snapping wide in instinctive defense of their dangerous secret.
“You’ll stay in the palace tonight,” he said over his shoulder, his voice steady now, composed only by force of will. “I won’t risk you in the streets.”
Jesenia hesitated, her breath unsteady, then nodded once, holding the words she couldn’t say behind her teeth. Rohannes came to her side, leading her away from the chaos and into the serenity of the gilded halls Val-Theris called home.
The palace was silent after the chaos, but Jesenia could not rest.
She sat by the tall window in her guest chambers, the city stretching dark and restless below, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders though the air was warm. Outside, Solmiris still murmured faintly with the distant crack of voices.
The door opened without warning.
Val-Theris stepped inside, the torchlight catching in the sweep of his wings, shadows pooling at his back. He wasn’t armored now, only a deep crimson tunic, his expression stripped of the polished composure he wore before others.
Jesenia rose instinctively. “Val-Theris—”
He moved toward her slowly, as though unwilling to crowd her but unable to keep his distance. Her chest ached at his closeness, which suddenly felt more urgent than before. His gaze caught hers, pale and luminous, something raw burning there she’d never seen before.
His hand lifted slowly, hesitating halfway, as though asking permission without words. Jesenia didn’t step back. She couldn’t.
When his fingertips brushed her cheek, she felt the unmistakable tremor in him, and in that tremor was everything he wouldn’t say: fear and longing and defiance sat heavy on his shoulders, threatening to break him at any moment.
“I thought I could fight this,” he whispered, his voice rough against the quiet.
“That I could bury it beneath duty, beneath the weight of what’s expected of me.
But when I saw that blade aimed at you—” His thumb brushed along her jaw, slow, deliberate, grounding himself in the warmth of her skin.
“I realized I don’t want to fight it anymore. ”
Jesenia’s hand rose slowly, almost without thought, until her fingertips touched the edge of his jaw, warm and steady beneath her palm.
Neither of them moved beyond that for a moment, until Val-Theris finally pulled back just enough to look at her fully, his thumb lingering softly beneath her chin. There was no restraint left in his gaze now.
“It’s not safe,” Jesenia whispered finally, her voice shaking. “They tried to kill you because you gave me a voice. What will they do if you choose me?”
“I already have,” Val-Theris murmured, his voice low and certain, his wings shifting faintly in the torchlight. “Every time I breathe, with whatever time I have left, Jesenia, I choose you.”
And though she didn’t understand why the words sounded like goodbye, they sank deep into her chest, searing and undeniable.