The first summons arrived at dawn.
It bore the royal seal—but not the king's.
Aurelia stared at it for a long moment before breaking the wax. The message was brief and formal, requesting her presence at a private inquiry convened by the High Council.
She exhaled slowly.
That was fast.
The palace did not wait for proof. Suspicion alone was enough.
By the time she reached the council chamber, Kael was already there—seated at the head of the table, crown in place, expression carved from stone. He did not look at her as she entered.
That alone told her how dangerous this was.
The councilors sat in a half circle, their robes heavy with embroidered sigils of rank and authority. High Chancellor Varin leaned forward, fingers steepled.
"Your Majesty," he said smoothly, "thank you for joining us so promptly."
Aurelia inclined her head. "Of course."
"This inquiry is… informal," another councilor added. "Merely a matter of clarification."
Kael's voice cut through the room, cold and sharp. "Then clarify."
Varin smiled thinly. "There have been reports."
Aurelia felt Kael's attention then—not looking at her, but listening to every breath she took.
"Reports of what?" she asked.
"Unusual survivals," Varin replied. "Unusual proximity."
Silence fell.
Aurelia chose her words carefully. "I'm not sure I understand."
Varin's eyes gleamed. "Three days ago, servants witnessed you and His Majesty in the western corridor."
Kael's hand tightened on the arm of his chair.
"An accident," Aurelia said calmly. "I lost my footing."
"And yet," Varin continued, "neither of you appeared harmed."
The word hung in the air like a blade.
Kael leaned forward. "Are you accusing my wife of deceit?"
"Of course not," Varin said quickly. "We are merely concerned for her safety."
Aurelia nearly laughed.
"My safety seems to concern you greatly," she said. "For people who expected me to die."
A flicker of irritation crossed Varin's face.
"Your Majesty," he said, "if the curse has altered—"
"It hasn't," Kael snapped.
The sudden force of his voice made the chamber flinch.
"There has been no change," Kael continued. "Any suggestion otherwise is speculation. Dangerous speculation."
Aurelia felt the weight of his protection then—solid, deliberate, unmistakable.
Varin studied Kael for a long moment before turning back to her.
"You will forgive us if we remain vigilant," he said. "History has taught us caution."
"Yes," Aurelia agreed. "History has taught us fear."
The inquiry ended shortly after, unresolved but far from dismissed.
As Aurelia turned to leave, Kael spoke quietly, without looking at her.
"Walk ahead of me."
Her heart stuttered.
She did as instructed.
They didn't speak until they reached a secluded passage near the eastern tower.
"You shouldn't have answered them that way," Kael said under his breath.
"You shouldn't let them interrogate me," Aurelia replied.
He stopped abruptly, forcing her to turn.
"If they find out," he said tightly, "you're dead."
"And if they don't?" she asked.
"They'll try to make you useful," he replied. "Or disposable."
Aurelia met his gaze. "Then we control the narrative."
Kael stared at her. "You think this is a game."
"No," she said. "I think it's a war."
Silence fell between them.
"Stay invisible," he said finally. "No more accidents. No more proximity."
Aurelia nodded. "And you?"
"I'll handle the council."
She hesitated. "You can't protect me forever."
Kael's eyes darkened. "Watch me."
He turned and walked away before she could respond.
That night, Aurelia realized something chilling.
The palace wasn't just watching her.
It was waiting.
Waiting for proof.
Waiting for weakness.
Waiting for the moment she slipped.