CHAPTER 16: Ash and Glass
Duskwatch Fortress – Great Hall, Day of the New Moon
The gates of Duskwatch opened not to fanfare, but to silence.
No horns. No banners. No declarations. Only the sound of hooves on stone, and the faint hiss of wind through broken crenellations.
Lady Virelle Velmire dismounted with practiced grace, her cloak of storm-blue velvet fluttering in the chill air. She wore no armor—only a longcoat embroidered with silver falcons and thorns. No sword hung at her side.
But her smile? That was a weapon.
"No one to greet me?" she asked lightly, stepping into the courtyard.
Kael stood at the edge of the stairs, flanked by Dren and Myrren.
He did not bow.
"You're not here as royalty," Kael said, his voice rough from the wind. "You're here as someone who defied a crown."
Virelle smiled wider.
"Then I'm in good company."
The War Table of Thorns
They met in the old war chamber, where banners of fallen houses still hung in respectful tatters. The room smelled of ink, dust, and boiling herbs.
Kael sat at the head of the map table. Virelle across from him. Between them, nothing but parchment, empty wine cups, and a fortress full of watching ears.
"I've brought coin," she said. "Trade routes. Quiet ships. Couriers who can slip past Imperial inspections."
"I don't need coin," Kael replied. "I need people who won't flinch when the Empire sends an army."
"They won't send an army," she said calmly. "Not yet. They'll send envoys. Plagues. Papal decrees. Assassins dressed as saints."
Kael met her eyes.
"You've done your homework."
"I'm not here to flirt, Kael. I'm here to survive."
A Blade, a Name, a Throne
They circled the subject like hounds around fire.
"You're offering more than aid," Kael finally said. "You want something."
Virelle leaned forward, her voice soft as wind over glass.
"Not a crown. A seat beside one. I don't want to rule your rebellion. I want to shape what follows."
Kael stood, walked to the window slit, and stared out across the snow-dusted village beyond the walls.
"I've buried more kings than I've bowed to. Don't ask me to build another."
"I'm not," she said. "I'm asking you to end the old way. With me."
Behind the door, unseen in the shadows, Seyda listened. One gloved hand tightened around the edge of her prayer book.
A Quiet Flame Between Them
As the sun dipped beyond the mountain line, Kael and Virelle stood by the brazier, wine in hand. The hall had emptied. Guards dismissed. Myrren gone. Dren silent. Only the sound of crackling wood and distant training cries filled the air.
Virelle spoke again, softer this time.
"When I stood in court, I saw men with power and no purpose. And when I stood beside you—dust-covered, bloodied, surrounded by orphans—you had nothing…"
She turned to him.
"And they called you Sovereign."
Kael said nothing for a moment.
Then: "If you stand with me, you may burn."
"I already am."
Before the Flame – Seyda's Warning
Later that night, Seyda found Kael in the chapel, watching the brazier. Alone.
"She lies well," Seyda said, without preamble.
"She tells what she believes," Kael answered.
"That's worse."
He turned, tired.
"She's useful."
"So am I," Seyda said, stepping closer. "But I don't ask to sit beside you. I kneel where others would rule."
"Don't forget who brought the flame to you, Sovereign."
Kael looked at her, searching, but said nothing.
And Seyda? She simply bowed, the red veil fluttering behind her, and vanished into smoke.
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Far above the walls, where Duskwatch's ravens nested, a falcon feather drifted on the wind.
And in the war chamber below, Kael stood alone—between ash and glass—knowing that both cut deep.