He swallowed hard, the weight of her scrutiny pressing down on him.
"I was summoned... by Lady Ariana."
"How did you come to meet Lady Ariana?"
His voice wavered, caught between fear and defiance.
"We… met in the market. She approached me, said she needed help."
Maravelle's tone sharpened, a hint of accusation threading through her words.
"Needed help?"
Garran swallowed hard, the weight of the queen's gaze pressing down on him like a stone.
"I... I only meant to protect her," he stammered. "She's trapped, Your Majesty. She wanted to be free."
Maravelle's lips pressed into a thin line, eyes cold but calculating.
"Freedom comes at a price, Garran. And betrayal is a debt this court will not forget."
Queen Maravelle turned to Lord Elron and Lord Asher, her voice low but firm as she outlined the punishment for the man beside Ariana. Both nobles listened intently, then gave sharp nods of agreement, their expressions leaving no room for mercy.
"You will be publicly flogged, branded, and exiled by nightfall," Maravelle declared coldly. "Let every man in this land remember what betrayal earns."
He fell to his knees, bloodied hands trembling. "Please, Your highness… have mercy."
Maravelle rose, voice as cold as the marble beneath his feet.
"This is mercy," she said. "I could have had your head struck from your shoulders. But I will not spill blood in Vargorath at a time this sacred. Let it be known that betrayal earns no place here not beside a prince, not beneath my roof."
Two guards seized him by the arms.
"No, please!" he cried, heels scraping against the stone.
But Queen Maravelle did not spare him another glance.
"By nightfall, I want him gone from my kingdom."
The doors opened with a heavy groan, and he was dragged screaming into the corridor, the sound of his pleas swallowed by the stone.
Silence fell once more.
....
The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting restless shadows against the stone walls. Prince Aedric sat on the edge of the bed, tunic loosened, crown set aside. In his hands he held a carved riverstone, smooth and pale, worn down by time and water. A memory from another life.
His gaze was distant, fixed on nothing, lost in the past.
He remembered the first time he saw her, by the river, sunlight dancing across the surface as she laughed with her friends. A lowly omega from a quiet werewolf clan east of the kingdom. She wasn't noble. She wasn't powerful. But she had eyes like dusk and a soul like firelight. And when she looked at him, he wasn't a prince. Just a man.
They met again. And again. Always by the water. Hidden smiles, soft touches, whispered promises. It had been the only time in his life he felt free.
But freedom didn't last long under a crown.
Maravelle had called him home. The betrothal talks were already underway, an alliance to fortify the northern borders. Lady Ariana, daughter of an alpha from the neighboring territories. Beautiful. Sharp. Strategic.
His heart had broken in silence the day he rejected his mate. She hadn't begged. She hadn't wept. She'd just looked at him, as if something inside her had shattered. He never saw her again.
It was the worst thing he had ever done.
But how could he disobey the woman who raised him? Maravelle, his mother's sister, had taken him in after her death. She was iron and poise and loyalty to the realm. She had loved him in her own fierce, unforgiving way. And he had obeyed her, thinking he was doing his duty.
Now, his wife lay disgraced. And his mate was a ghost he couldn't chase.
Aedric clenched the riverstone in his hand until his knuckles whitened.
He was no longer that boy by the water. But tonight, for the first time in years, he wished he was.
....
The great stone chamber stood quiet as Thornak sat with King Maelor. He studied Thornak with the quiet steadiness of a man who had crossed mountains not for politics... but for something far more fragile.
"I came," Maelor began, his voice smooth and low, "because your offer of alliance was one I would be a fool to ignore. Eldros has seen the signs. Darkness gathers in the far reaches, just as your envoy said it would."
Thornak inclined his head slightly, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Then why not send a delegation, I have a feeling you are here for more than just alliance?"
Maelor gave a faint smile, grim and almost tired. "Because I did not come only for politics."
He stood then, placing both hands on the table before him.
"I came to meet the Moonguard heir."
The words dropped like a blade. Thornak didn't move, but something tightened in his jaw.
"My seers speak of a ritual, ancient. My warden, Eira... she suffers under a curse that even my most skilled mages cannot unravel. She is cursed, not by blade, but by dark magic. Her soul flickers between this world and the next, held by something old and cruel."
He looked up, gaze steady.
"The ritual calls for moonfire. Only a Moonguard royal can summon it. Without it, Eira will most surely die."
Thornak's expression was unreadable.
"Vargorath stands strong," Maelor continued. "And Eldros will fight beside you in the wars to come. I did not come with demands. Only a plea."
A long silence stretched between them.
Finally, Thornak spoke. "And what if the heir does not yet command the moonfire?"
"Then we help her awaken it," Maelor said simply. "For her sake. For my warden. And for the war we are all about to face."
Thornak studied Maelor in the stillness of the war chamber. The fire cracked low in the hearth, casting long shadows between them.
"You speak of her with something more than duty," Thornak said at last, his voice quieter now. "This girl... your warden. Why do you care so much? I ask only as a cousin."
Maelor's jaw tensed. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, without meeting Thornak's gaze, he reached for the goblet beside him but didn't drink.
"She came into my care as a child," he said. "Daughter of a fallen house loyal to mine. I raised her to survive the world that took her parents. I trained her, shaped her into the shield I needed at my side."
His voice dropped.
"But somewhere along the way, I found she had become more than my warden. More than my sword."
Now he met Thornak's gaze fully.
"I love her."
Thornak didn't speak. He merely listened.
Maelor continued, quiet and steady, though something fragile laced his words. "She doesn't know. She must never know. I am not her mate. And I would never stand in the way of that bond should fate one day call it forth."
His hand tightened slightly on the goblet.
"But even kings do not choose what their hearts cling to. And mine... chose her. I would cross kingdoms to save her, even if she will never be mine."
There was no shame in his voice, only sorrow.
Thornak exhaled, slow and deliberate, and his voice when he answered held neither judgment nor pity. "Then we will do this together. For her."
Maelor bowed his head. "Thank you, cousin."
"But know this, Maelor. If what you ask puts her in danger... I will end it."
Maelor bowed his head, no trace of offense in his expression.
"I would expect nothing less."