The corridors of the Eastern wing carried sound strangely .
Every whisper , every rustle of silk , seemed to travel further than it should — as if the stone itself enjoyed gossip .
By dawn , the castle already hummed with speculation .
Elira felt it before she heard it : the pause in conversation when she entered , the shift of gazebos though she carried something dangerous .
Not the scandal of affection — that would cone later — but something subtler .
Influence .
Scribes were meant to be invisible .
She was no longer invisible .
That morning is council session gathered in the Glass Hall , named for its vaulted ceiling of mirrored panes that caught the sky and shattered it into fragments of light .
Maps lay unrolled , tokens marking alliances and sieges .
Caelum stood at the far end of the long table , gauntleted hands resting against the edge .
He had not slept — she could tell by the faint bruising beneath his eyes — but he held himself with the same measured precision .
When she entered , his gaze flicked to her briefly .
A flicker , nothing more .
But she felt it .
“Proceed ,” he said to the generals , his voice even .
Commander Varek spoke first , briefing on the Western border , while Lady Solenne lounged like a cat at the table is edge , adorned in soft grey silk .
Her eyes , pale as winter glass , followed Elira .
When the reports were done , Caelum turned .
“Scribe Vane .
Summarize the discrepancies .”
Elira inhaled .
“The figures from the West understate losses .
By the handwriting alone , the reports were rewritten .
Someone in the courier line tampered with them — likely at Lord Myren is post .”
Varek , frowned .
“That is a heavy accusation .”
“I have proof ,” she said quietly , sliding the scroll forward .”The ink is from the Southern Province , not Myren is own stores .
It carries traces of red ash from the Glassforge District .”
A pause .
Solenne is lips curved .
“You have a remarkable eye for detail , little scribe .
Tell me — how long before the Prince decides he cannot think without you ?”
The room chilled .
Caelum did not look at Solenne , but his tone cut through the air .
“Lady Solenne I suggest you concern yourself with your diplomatic dispatches.
”
Her smile did not falter .
”
The meeting continued , but Elira is hands were trembling faintly under the table .
She forced them still .
When the council adjourned , she lingered to collect her notes .
The hall emptied slowly , echoing with fading voices .
Caelum was last to leave .
He approached without sound , stopping just behind her .
“You handled that well ,” he said .
“I spoke the truth ,” she replied , without looking up .
“You always do.”
There was quiet between them , the kind that thickened rather than eased .
“Solenne will not forget this morning ,” he added .
“I imagine she forgets very little ,” Elira said .
“Nor forgive.”
She turned then , meeting his gaze .
“Then I should treasure carefully .”
He studied her .
“You should .
And yet , I find I would rather you did not .”
Her breath caught — just slightly .
“That sounds like permission to be reckless .”
“It is not .”
His voice was sharp , but softer underneath .
When she finally looked away , his gloved hand brushed against hers on the table .
Barely there .
Then he was gone .
That might , Elira found her chamber door unlatched .
The candle on her desk had been moved .
Not stolen — just shifted .
Someone had been inside .
A folded note lay beneath her ink jar sealed with no crest , only a thumbprint pressed in wax .
She broke it .
You see too much .
You will be silenced before the truth binds you .
The handwriting was elegant .
Familiar .
Solenne .
She burned the note .
Watched the wax curl and the flame eat the threat . New chapters come out on g.com first.
But she could not sleep .
At midnight , she rose and crossed the silent corridors toward the map chamber .
The door was ajar .
Caelum stood there again , sleeves rolled , his forearms inked faintly with the residue of sigils — binding marks from the truth — ward he had cast during council .
“You should not be here ,” he said , without turning .
“Neither should you .”
He exhaled , low , almost a laugh .
“You are becoming bolder , Elira Vane .”
“I have been threatened .”
He turned then , the faintest change in his expression .
“By whom ?”
“Someone who does not want me near you .”
Silence .
The air between them changed — sharpened .
“I will have Varek double your guard .”
“I do not want guards .”
“Then what do you want ?”
Her pulse stuttered .
“Truth .”
He took a step closer .
“And if the truth is dangerous ?”
“Then I will write it anyway .”
His hand lifted — hesitated — then brushed a strand of hair from her face , slow enough to feel every breath between them .
“You have no idea what you have have walked into ,” he said quietly .
“This court devours its own .
I cannot always protect you .”
She met his gaze .
“I did not ask you to .”
Something flickered in him — admiration , fear , desire .
He could not tell which .
He stepped back , breaking whatever that had nearly happened .
“Go ,” he said , voice rough .
“Before I forget myself .”
Elira turned , but at the door she paused , glancing back .
“I think ,” she said softly , “you already have .”
The door closed behind her .
And Caelum , alone in the flickering light of the map room , pressed his hand to the edge of the table and whispered — “Damn you truth .”
🖤🖤🖤Preanol