Chapter 13
The price was paid the very next morning.
Aurelia sensed it before anyone spoke a word. The palace felt different—quieter in the way a room goes silent when a decision has already been made. Servants moved with their heads lowered, avoiding her eyes. Guards stood straighter, hands closer to their weapons. Even the air felt tense, as if the walls themselves were listening more carefully than before.
The council had not retreated.
They had recalculated.
Aurelia stood before the mirror as her attendant adjusted the clasp of her gown. Her reflection looked unchanged—calm, composed, unmistakably alive. And yet she knew, with a clarity that settled deep in her bones, that the balance had shifted overnight.
"You are not to leave your chambers today, Your Majesty," the attendant said quietly, eyes fixed on the floor.
Aurelia met her reflection's gaze. "Whose order is that?"
"The council's," the girl replied. "For your… protection."
Aurelia exhaled slowly.
Protection had become a convenient word for confinement.
Kael arrived before noon.
He did not knock.
The door closed behind him with controlled force, and for the first time since she had met him, his restraint was visibly strained.
"They've overstepped," he said.
Aurelia turned from the window. "They always do. That's how they test limits."
"They're issuing directives in my name," he continued. "Redirecting guards. Restricting your movement."
"And you let them?" she asked quietly.
Kael stopped in front of her. "For now."
The honesty in his voice was sharper than anger would have been.
"For now," Aurelia repeated. "So they believe they've won something."
"Yes," he said. "Because if they think they've lost, they'll act openly."
She studied him for a moment. "You're buying time."
"I'm preventing bloodshed."
Aurelia nodded slowly. "Then we're aligned."
Kael searched her face, as if looking for fear.
He didn't find it.
"They will come for you again," he said. "But not directly. Not after last night."
"No," Aurelia agreed. "They'll use something else."
The "something else" arrived by afternoon.
Lord Saelreth requested an audience.
Privately.
Kael refused.
An hour later, Saelreth requested it again—this time with council authorization.
Kael refused again.
By evening, the request came sealed with emergency protocol.
Aurelia read the notice in silence.
"They're not asking anymore," she said.
Kael's jaw tightened. "He won't touch you."
"I know," Aurelia replied. "That's why they sent him."
Kael looked at her sharply. "You're not going."
She met his gaze evenly. "I already have."
He went still.
"They want to isolate us," she continued. "To see what happens when your influence is removed."
"That's exactly why you shouldn't—"
"That's exactly why I must," Aurelia said calmly.
Silence stretched between them, thick with everything neither of them was ready to say aloud.
Kael exhaled sharply. "If he tries anything—"
"He won't," Aurelia interrupted. "Not yet. He's curious, not reckless."
"That makes him more dangerous," Kael replied.
"Yes," she said. "But predictable."
The chamber Saelreth chose was old—an abandoned observatory high in the western tower. Dust clung to the edges of forgotten instruments, and moonlight filtered through tall glass panels etched with faded runes.
Saelreth stood alone when Aurelia entered.
"You came," he said, genuine interest flickering across his features.
"I was summoned," Aurelia replied. "That's not the same thing."
He smiled faintly. "Defiance wrapped in courtesy. I admire that."
She didn't respond.
"You frightened them last night," Saelreth continued. "The council doesn't fear the curse anymore. They fear you."
Aurelia studied him carefully. "And you?"
His smile widened slightly. "I'm fascinated."
The pressure returned—subtle, attentive.
Listening.
"You don't want to kill me," Aurelia said. "If you did, you would have tried already."
"Correct," Saelreth replied. "Death ends observation."
"And you're observing the curse," she said. "Through me."
"Yes," he admitted easily. "It's old. Older than the kingdom. Older than Kael."
Aurelia felt a chill. "You've studied it before."
"I've spoken to it," Saelreth said softly.
The air shifted.
Not violently.
Deliberately.
Aurelia felt the curse turn its attention inward, focused and alert.
"That's why it reacted last night," she said. "It recognized you."
Saelreth inclined his head. "It remembered my voice."
"And yet it didn't protect you," Aurelia said. "It watched."
His expression sharpened. "You think it chose you."
"I think it's deciding," she replied.
Silence followed.
Saelreth stepped closer—not too close, never careless.
"You are dangerous," he said quietly. "Not because you weaken the curse—but because you complicate it."
Aurelia met his gaze steadily. "Then stop trying to simplify me."
He laughed softly. "You don't understand. The council wants control. I want comprehension."
"And I want survival," Aurelia said. "Ours. Not just yours."
The pressure eased slightly, like a breath released.
Saelreth studied her with renewed caution. "You're not what they expected."
"Neither is the curse," Aurelia replied.
That night, Kael stood alone on the palace balcony, staring out into the darkness.
"They're testing you," he said when Aurelia joined him.
"Yes," she agreed. "But not the way they planned."
He looked at her then—really looked.
"You walked into danger willingly," he said.
Aurelia's voice was steady. "So they'd learn where the line is."
Kael shook his head slightly. "You shouldn't have to draw it alone."
She met his gaze, something quiet and unyielding between them.
"Then don't let them push me back," she said.
The curse stirred faintly—not in warning, not in anger.
In approval.