Chapter Sixty-Four
KAEL
I swirl the crimson liquor in my goblet, watching the slow ribbons of red coat the glass before tipping it back, letting the burn chase away the weight pressing against my ribs.
It doesn’t work.
It never fucking does.
The air in my bedroom is thick with aged oak, smoke, and the ghosts of that godsdamned meeting. The council was furious. Rightly so. Everything we’ve done—every sacrifice, every blood-stained decision—has been for the plan. And I just tore it apart with a single sentence.
For her.
I exhale sharply and rub my jaw, trying to stave off the tension coiling in my gut. Elyssara’s anger still lingers in my veins. I felt it in that meeting. Felt her fire burning at the edges of my mind, her fury clawing at my restraint.
She wanted answers.
She wanted to rip them from me with her bare hands.
And she will.
I’ve known her long enough to see the pattern.
When she’s furious, she comes to me. Storms to me.
It’s always been this way, ever since the moment she snarled at me with dirt under her nails and fire in her eyes in that filthy Dravari tannery.
She’s like a storm—rolling in hot, leaving wreckage in her wake, shaking the ground beneath my feet before she lets me pull her under.
I tip my head back, watching the shadows coil along the ceiling.
Waiting.
Because I know she’ll come.
She always fucking does.
The tether between us snaps taut, imbued with fierce determination and fury, and the oak door of my chambers slams open.
Her wet hair clings to her temples, wild and untamed, Starforged Blade gleaming in her grip like a promise of violence. The woman is fucking stunning, even—especially—in her rage.
“You knew this entire time who you were. Who I was. And you still let me walk around like a fucking fool while everyone else knew the truth!” She spits the words like the taste of them disgusts her.
There’s no question, just a cold, direct statement of her betrayal.
I steel myself to answer, but she forges on, not waiting for me.
“Did you ever plan to tell me, Kael?” She lets out an exhale that borders on a whimper and her voice breaks, “Or did you get some sort of kick out of keeping me in the fucking dark?”
I rise out of the chair, and reach for her, “El—”
“Don’t fucking touch me!” She pulls back from me as if scalded. Repulsed.
“I just wanted you to see it for yourself. Zerynthia, Thornewood, my people,” I drag my hands through my hair, the last weeks on the road, of keeping myself together, of withholding so much, catching up with me. “I wanted you to see why we’re doing this. Why we need you.”
“And why the fuck should I believe anything you say, Your Majesty?” She drops into a low mocking curtsy, and looks at me with those piercing, emerald-green eyes.
“Just hear me out, El. Please,” the words come out pleading, but I don’t care. I’ll get on my knees and fucking beg if I have to.
She pauses for a moment, exhaling loudly and wiping at her eyes.
Her voice softens, the rage dissipating into something rawer, more vulnerable.
“Did you ever think, just for a heartbeat, that maybe I deserve to know what I’m fighting for?
” Her gaze bores into me, as if seeing inside my chest, before she adds, “Who I’m falling for? ”
Fuck. The words crash into me, carving away the last scrap of restraint and self-control I have left, because despite everything, I’m falling for her, too.
“You deserve to know everything,” my words come out like a whisper. I’m a fucking liar. I can’t tell her everything. She’ll never look at me the same.
“So, tell me,” she begs, eyes pleading. “You told me I needed to see Zerynthia for myself. That I needed to understand. So help me understand, Kael.”
I close my eyes, preparing to relive the worst night of my life, dredging up memories that I’d long since buried. But she’s right—I owe her this much.
“You want the truth?” My voice is hoarse. “I was exiled from The Shadow Wastes for the murder of my parents.”
Elyssara flinches, as if I’ve struck her. Her lips part—like she wants to say something, but the words catch.
“They were already dead when I found them.” The words scrape against my throat, like shards of glass I thought I’d swallowed years ago.
Her fingers twitch at her sides. The scent of embers sharpens in the air.
“Maldrak was standing behind the guards when they rushed in. Playing the role of shocked noble—he was the fucking executioner. He played me.”
A spark hisses from the tip of her blade. But it’s not rage anymore. It’s something worse.
She believes me.
She stares at me, as if uncertain what to say, so I continue.
“He put me on trial in front of the entire court and painted me as a kinslayer.” Elyssara is still silent, staring at me, leaving space for me to breathe, to remember.
“Almost every member of that court turned their back on me after that... except for those here—those on the council. They know the truth. They know me.”
“Why not just kill you?” The words sting, but she looks sincere.
“He wanted me to watch while he took everything from me—my parents, my sister, my kingdom. He wanted to see me suffer.”
Elyssara takes a deep breath, composing herself.
“Is this the plan, then? Kill Maldrak? Get revenge? To hell with everything else?” She asks, exasperated.
“My plan is to restore Zerynthia. To carry on my father’s legacy. To finish what he started.” I say with conviction, reciting the words I’ve said hundreds of times to the war council.
For a moment, she just looks at me. Not with anger, not with pity, but with something dangerous. Understanding. As if she knows the feeling.
Then, her gaze shifts and darkens.
“And what of Nalya? Will you really leave her to rot in those dungeons all for the sake of this plan?”
The air rushes out of my lungs, and the dam containing my fury breaks.
“Everything I’ve done has been for her!” The words snarl out of me before I can stop them. “Every life I’ve taken, every battle I’ve fought, every godsdamned council meeting—”
I’m breathing hard. Elyssara’s fingers tighten around her blade.
“Until you.”
The words leave me hoarse. Bare.
Elyssara stares at me.
Like she’s trying to hate me. Trying to hold onto her fury. Trying to ignore the way my voice just broke for her.
Then, slowly—too slowly—she steps closer.
“You should’ve told me,” she breathes.
“You think I wanted to keep this from you?” My voice is rough, edged with something I can’t smooth over. “You think I liked standing there, watching you put the pieces together on your own, knowing that at any moment I could just—” I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “That I could just tell you?”
I step forward, and she doesn’t move away this time.
“I didn’t want you to just hear it, Elyssara. I needed you to feel it. To see it. To stand in these homes, to look into the eyes of people who have lost so much and know that you were the answer to their prayers—not because I told you, but because you felt your own power for once.”
I drag a hand through my hair, my restraint unraveling thread by thread.
“If I told you back in The Tannery, would you have believed me?” My voice is softer now.
“If I said you were more than a street girl with starlight in her blood, that you were meant for something greater, that you could change the entire future of the fucking realms—would you have listened? Or would you have torn yourself apart trying to prove me wrong? Trying to hold onto all the reasons you don’t think you’re good enough? ”
Her breath catches, but she says nothing.
“That’s why, El.” I look at her then, unguarded. Raw. “Because I needed you to know it before I ever said a fucking word.”
A tear tracks down her cheek, “What am I supposed to do with that, Kael?” she whimpers.
My jaw tightens, and I take a step, closing the space between us, “You tell me.”