The wind over the Ash Plains was colder than it had any right to be.
Bao Bao rode ahead of the Sunshadow escort, Sunblade drawn, watching the horizon ripple like a gray ocean. The first mission here had ended with danger, confusion, and fear—this time, he intended to return with answers.
Veylara walked beside him, quiet but attentive, her eyes searching for irregularities in the drifting ash. Even she seemed unsettled, which alone spoke volumes.
"Something changed," she murmured. "The land feels… hollow."
Bao Bao nodded. "The Plains were dead before. Now they feel erased."
He did not know then that her words would be the first hint of disaster.
Ahead, the ground cracked.
The riders drew back. Veylara stepped forward, blades raised. Bao Bao extended a hand, heat simmering in his palm—but what rose from the fissure was neither beast nor soldier.
A mark.
Carved into the earth as if by a burning brand.
A perfect ring of scorched soil, smooth as glass.
No footprints.
No debris.
No explanation.
The same shape he had seen only once before—burned into the ruined outpost.
He crouched, touching the ring's edge. The moment his fingers brushed the scorched groove, the warmth fled from the soil.
Cold.
Empty.
Wrong.
"This is not Pyronis," Bao Bao said quietly.
"No," Veylara agreed. "This is something older."
She said nothing else, but the tension between them was unmistakable. She stood close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. Close enough for Naelith—watching from the citadel far away—to later accuse them of sharing too much trust.
Bao Bao rose. "We return to Firelonia. The Council must see this."
Veylara hesitated. "And when they deny it?"
"Then," Bao Bao replied, "I will no longer ask for their permission."
She bowed her head, a rare show of loyalty without words. It stayed with him the entire ride home.
—
Firelonia's golden spires came into view as dusk set. The citadel glowed with ceremonial torches, but even their light felt dimmer than usual. Something unsettled the city.
Inside the Sun Council Chamber, the tension snapped instantly.
A group of ministers sided with Bao Bao the moment they saw the marking.
Others whispered rebellion.
"This is fabricated to justify more Sunshadow expansion."
"You have grown too close to your captain, my King."
"You expect us to believe an unknown enemy roams our borders?"
Naelith sat on her throne, silent, her eyes fixed sharply on her fellow councilors. When they murmured Veylara's name with disdain, when they accused Bao Bao of trusting her more than the Council—something in the Queen shifted.
For the first time, jealousy stung her.
Not because she wanted to own the King. Not because their marriage had ever been romantic. But because she could feel him slipping emotionally toward someone else—and she was not ready to lose the one person who treated her as more than a crown.
"Enough," Naelith said.
Her voice cut clean through every argument.
"You doubt the King's word? Then doubt mine as well. I examined the evidence. The markings are real. And if the Council fractures now, Firelonia dies before the enemy even reaches our gates."
Silence.
She stood, descending the steps of her throne. The councilors shrank back—not out of fear, but out of respect she rarely demanded.
When the chamber emptied, only Bao Bao remained.
"You did not have to defend me," he said.
"I didn't," she corrected. "I defended Firelonia. And…" She paused. "I defended what is mine to protect."
Bao Bao frowned, unsure what she meant. Naelith had never spoken with such raw emotion—not in all their years of political marriage.
He turned to leave, but Naelith stepped forward.
"Bao."
He stopped.
For a heartbeat, she looked almost vulnerable—like a woman, not a queen sculpted from sunfire. Jealousy, quiet and sharp, flickered just beneath her composure.
"You trust her more than me now," she whispered. "I see it. I am not blind."
Bao Bao opened his mouth to answer, but she stepped closer, silencing him not with a command, but with a gentle, unexpected touch to his jaw.
"I won't lose the only person who has ever treated me as more than a symbol."
She rose on her toes, and before he could pull away—or decide—Naelith kissed him.
Soft.
Brief.
Uncertain.
A queen choosing vulnerability for the first time.
When she drew back, her voice trembled in a way it never had before.
"Whatever shadows are coming… I want to face them with you. Not behind you. Not beneath you. With you."
Bao Bao didn't answer immediately. His heart was caught between duty, admiration, and a thrum of emotions he had never expected from her.
For the first time since their marriage, he saw Naelith not as a distant political partner…
…but as someone who wanted to stand at his side—by choice.