— King Lucan Velshar of Dravareth:
The air smelled of overripe fruit and politics. Sweet on the surface. Rotten underneath.
As the gates of Elaria's palace shut behind us, I felt it again—that strange weight behind my ribs. A pull. A calling. It hadn't weakened since we crossed the border. If anything, it had grown sharper.
We rode through the inner courtyard in silence. Rhysand's horse moved in stride with mine, his posture elegant, relaxed—but I knew better. Every muscle in his body was poised, aware. He was watching everything, everyone. And though he rarely looked directly at me, I felt his attention like the heat of the sun on stone.
The guards along the entry columns stood straighter as we passed. Some of them shifted, others stared. I heard one of them mutter something under his breath as he caught sight of our black and silver sigils—Dravareth's crest. The Wolf and the Flame. The kings without alliances. The ones who had never bowed to Elaria.
Not once.
Let them tremble.
We came because something called us. Not because we were summoned. Not for diplomacy. Not for some frail royal bride.
At least, that's what I thought.
Until I saw her.
We had just stepped into the throne hall, the long, towering chamber gilded in gold and arrogance. Banners draped from the ceiling, stained glass flooded the floor with fractured color. Nobles cluttered the edges like predators dressed in pearls.
Then I saw her—half-hidden behind a carved pillar near the far end of the hall.
At first, it was only her silhouette. A flicker of soft green silk. The subtle motion of her breath. But then her face emerged through the light, and her gaze locked onto us.
She wasn't like the rest.
She didn't look at us in fear. Not in disgust. Her eyes didn't narrow with judgment or shift away in shame.
She looked at us like she recognized us.
There was curiosity in her expression. Confusion, yes—but layered with something else. Something ancient and wordless, like the moment before a storm reaches the earth.
She watched me.
Then Rhys.
Then back to me.
And still she didn't look away.
My breath caught for half a second.
Rhysand, beside me, subtly brushed his fingers along the back of my hand as we moved forward. "Did you feel that?"
"Yes," I murmured.
She disappeared behind the pillar as another trumpet blast sounded and our names were announced.
"Presenting Their Majesties, King Lucan Velshar and King Rhysand Varynthal—rulers of the Sixth Kingdom, Dravareth."
A wave of silence crashed through the hall. Stiff backs. Tightened jaws. Several noblewomen turned away, whispering. One man choked on his wine.
We did not bow. Not here.
Rhysand stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gaze level and unreadable. My own remained forward. Steady. Cold.
At the end of the hall, King Alaric sat like a man gripping a sword blade with both hands. The veins in his temple pulsed. His knuckles whitened on the throne's arms.
I wondered if it pained him more to see us walk in… or to know he couldn't stop us.
Still, he stood.
"Kings of Dravareth," Alaric said, his voice a deep echo that strained to stay controlled. "You honor Elaria with your presence."
His words were ice wrapped in honey.
I stepped forward, offering nothing but a nod. "King Alaric. Thank you for your… invitation."
He flinched. Just barely.
Everyone knew the truth. He hadn't expected us to come.
And now that we had, he had no choice but to welcome us—or risk war.
"We are grateful you've made the journey," he said tightly. "Please enjoy the hospitality of Elaria."
Rhysand inclined his head with a pleasant smile that never touched his eyes. "We intend to."
King Alaric sat down slowly, jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.
We were escorted to the far end of the banquet table beneath an arched wall carved with scenes of old conquests. The space felt like it had been made deliberately distant from the king and his daughter—subtle, but clear.
No matter.
Because even now, I could feel her presence. Like a current just beneath the surface of water. I did not look for her again—but I knew exactly where she was.
And I knew she was watching.
Not like the others.
The call hadn't led me to Elaria.
It had led me to her.