Then, as he turned to me, I saw a look on his face I’d never seen.
Recognition. Regret. Rage. All warring in his gaze. Kaelith shook his head once, violently.
When his eyes opened again, they had returned to their usual deep, ambered bronze.
"All hail King Kaelith," Lady Thena proclaimed, voice clear and unwavering. "Firstborn son of King Talon and Queen Sushay—rest her soul. King of the Night. Sovereign of Nyxarra."
As one, the court bowed. Silks rustled. Jewels caught the light. I dropped my gaze and bent my knee.
Beside me, Aurelia sat frozen. Her hand trembled against the stem of her untouched glass.
She looked at me. And I gave her the only thing I could offer. A small, steady nod.
She rose. Her movements were slow. Controlled. Distant. And then she bowed.
The room exhaled.
But the air felt colder than before.
29
Aurelia
The room shatteredinto an eruption of cheers.
“All hail King Kaelith!”
“King Kaelith, you honor us!”
The ballroom shook with shouts of hollow praise. Bile clawed up my throat.
Behind Kaelith, framed by banners and torchlight, King Talon’s body still lay crumpled where he had fallen. Discarded like an empty wineskin.
The crowd ignored it. Pretended not to see the ruin at their new king’s feet.
But I saw it. Gods, I saw it.
The torchlight caught on his open eyes, already glazing. His crown had slipped, rolling halfway down the dais like a dropped coin. The smell of iron clung to the air, sharp and sour beneath the perfume of spiced wine.
Beside me, Malachi hadn’t moved. His face was carved from stone, utterly blank. But I noticed the way his fingers curled once, tight against his knee, then stilled again.
Just below the dais, Lysara, Santi, Gabriel, and Seraphine stood in a fractured line, a broken phalanx of disbelief. Lysara stepped forward—only a pace, but enough—and laid a trembling hand on Malachi’s arm, as if anchoring him before he drifted too far.
“Malachi…” she whispered, voice fraying.
He didn’t move.
Time stretched unbearably, every heartbeat loud in my ears, before Malachi finally spoke—more to himself than anyone else. “This is why he wanted us all here tonight.” A crack in his voice. Just enough for the world to feel it.
“Please, continue to enjoy yourselves!” Kaelith called out, arms wide, voice bright with cruel triumph.
And somehow, the music stumbled back into existence, stringed instruments rising like nothing had happened. Laughter—thin and frantic—spilled across the marble floor. The world around me spun and shifted, but I stayed rooted to the spot.
The Shadow Elves appeared, dark-cloaked and near-silent, their boots whispering across the stone.
They approached King Talon’s remains without ceremony. One lifted the husk of the body beneath the arms, the other by the ankles.
His crown rolled away across the dais, forgotten.