The message arrived wrapped in courtesy.
A sealed letter. Neutral courier. No crest.
It was delivered to the Hollow's outer watch at noon—after the laughter had faded, after training had resumed, after the illusion of safety had settled just enough to sting.
Kael took it first.
He knew better than to open it immediately.
He found Aelira near the training ring, correcting a stance, her voice calm, precise.
"Pause," he said quietly.
She turned at once.
"What is it?"
He handed her the letter.
Her fingers stilled.
They both felt it—the weight of it. Not magic. Intention.
Aelira broke the seal.
She read once.
Then again.
She did not react.
That frightened Kael more than if she had.
Princess,
It warms my heart to hear you've found comfort among loyal friends.
It would be tragic if such comfort were… temporary.
Aelira turned the parchment.
There was no threat.
Only a list.
Names. Places. Times.
A border town that had sheltered rebels last winter.
A farm that had fed Kael's unit years ago.
A healer who once stitched Lyra's side without asking questions.
At the bottom, written smaller:
And a reminder—Commander Draven's mother still lives by the southern marsh.
The room went cold.
Kael's breath left him slowly. "She went digging."
"No," Aelira replied quietly. "She waited."
Lyra appeared at her side, eyes scanning the list. "This isn't a warning."
"It's leverage," Aelira said.
Rook swore under his breath. "She's going to make you choose."
Jax swallowed. "Between… what?"
Aelira folded the letter neatly.
"Between resistance," she said, "and mercy."
Silence followed—heavy, sickening.
Kael's fists clenched. "I'll ride now."
"No," Aelira said.
He turned sharply. "She named my family."
"She wants you reckless," Aelira replied. "She wants you to act alone."
"And you don't?" he demanded.
Aelira stepped closer, voice steady. "I want you alive."
Their eyes locked—anger, fear, devotion colliding.
Kael looked away first.
By dusk, the Hollow buzzed with low voices and drawn lines on maps.
"They'll hit the town," Lyra said. "Make an example."
"They'll expect us to respond emotionally," Elda added. "Split our forces."
Aelira listened.
Then she spoke.
"She wants me to come back."
Every head turned.
"She won't say it yet," Aelira continued calmly. "But she will. She'll offer safety in exchange for surrender."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Absolutely not."
"I'm not surrendering," Aelira said. "I'm refusing her terms."
"And how does that save them?" Rook asked quietly.
Aelira lifted her gaze.
"By making her move first," she said. "In the open."
Night fell.
Aelira stood alone at the Hollow's edge, wind tugging at her cloak.
Kael joined her, silent.
"She's using me," he said hoarsely. "My past. My family."
"She's using what you love," Aelira replied. "Because she knows it matters."
He turned to her. "And you?"
Aelira met his gaze. "She's using you against me."
The admission hung between them.
Kael stepped closer. "If she forces a choice—"
"I won't choose," Aelira said. "I'll break the board."
He searched her face. "That could cost everything."
She reached for his hand, squeezing once. Grounding. Certain.
"I already died once," she said softly. "I won't live by her rules again."
For a moment, Kael rested his forehead against hers.
Then he nodded.
"Tell me what to do."
Aelira's eyes hardened—not with cruelty, but resolve.
"We protect the people," she said.
"We expose the threat."
"And when she asks for my return—"
She smiled, slow and dangerous.
"—we answer her together."
Far away, a queen waited for fear to do its work.
She would be disappointed.