They did not meet in the eastern tower.
That place was expected now.
Instead, Kael led Aelira through a narrow servants' passage hidden behind a tapestry in the west wing—one few remembered and fewer dared to use. The air smelled of dust and old stone, wards humming faintly beneath the walls.
"Three rules," Kael said as they walked. "You break them, I stop helping you."
Aelira arched a brow. "You make it sound like a privilege."
"It is," he replied calmly.
She smiled faintly. "Go on."
They reached a small, abandoned study overlooking the outer gardens. Kael sealed the door with a quiet gesture before turning to face her.
"Rule one," he said. "You do nothing impulsive. Not in public. Not in private."
Aelira folded her arms. "That eliminates most of my personality."
"Then you adapt," he said. "Or you die."
She nodded once. "Fair."
"Rule two," Kael continued. "Your power is never used without purpose. No testing limits. No proving points."
Aelira's gaze sharpened. "You want control."
"I want predictability," he corrected. "Yours."
"And rule three?" she asked.
Kael hesitated.
Just for a heartbeat.
"You trust me," he said finally. "When I tell you to stop. Or move. Or stay still."
Silence settled between them.
Aelira studied him—really studied him. The restraint. The tension wound tight beneath his calm. The man who had never asked anything of her until now.
"And if I don't?" she asked quietly.
Kael stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not retreating.
"Then the queen wins," he said. "Because she already knows how to break you. I'm the only variable she hasn't accounted for."
Their proximity shifted the air.
Aelira felt it—the pull, sharp and electric, threading through the quiet hum of magic beneath her skin.
"Very well," she said softly. "My turn."
Kael inclined his head.
"My rule one," Aelira continued, "is that you don't make decisions for me. Advice, not commands."
His lips curved faintly. "Agreed."
"Rule two," she said, stepping closer herself now, "you don't disappear without telling me where you're going."
Kael's eyes darkened. "That could be inconvenient."
"I imagine it will be," she replied.
"And rule three?" he asked.
Her voice lowered.
"You don't lie to me."
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then Kael nodded. "Done."
The pact settled between them—unspoken but binding.
Aelira exhaled slowly. "So. What's the plan?"
Kael reached past her, bracing one hand against the wall.
Not touching.
Caging the space just enough to be unmistakable.
"We let the queen think she's winning," he said quietly. "You remain compliant. Polite. Small."
Aelira's pulse quickened. "And behind the scenes?"
"You train," Kael said. "Properly. Slowly. Safely. I identify allies. Weak points. Patterns."
"And when she strikes again?"
Kael's gaze dropped briefly—to her lips, then back to her eyes.
"Then she strikes where we're ready."
The silence between them tightened.
Aelira became acutely aware of how close he was. Of the warmth radiating from him. Of how easily she could close the distance.
She didn't.
Neither did he.
"This is dangerous," she murmured.
Kael's voice was low. "So are you."
Her smile was slow. Calculated. Unafraid.
"Good," she said. "I'd hate to be underestimated."
For a moment—just one—Kael's restraint slipped.
His fingers brushed her wrist.
Not to ground her.
Not to command.
Just to confirm she was there.
The contact sent a sharp, unmistakable jolt through both of them.
Kael withdrew immediately.
"We start tonight," he said roughly. "No witnesses."
Aelira watched him move toward the door.
"Kael," she said.
He paused.
"If this ends badly," she continued softly, "we'll both burn."
He looked back at her then—really looked.
"I know," he said.
And for the first time since her rebirth, Aelira believed it.
Because this was no longer about survival.
It was about choosing the fire together.