Aurelia did not sleep.
She sat near the window with her knees drawn up, the palace quiet around her in a way that felt temporary—like the pause between breaths. Whatever Saelreth had touched in the archives still lingered at the edge of her awareness. Not pain. Not threat.
Recognition.
When the knock came, she was already standing.
"Come in," she said.
Kael entered without ceremony. He looked tired now, the sharpness of the council chamber finally catching up to him. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, as if grounding himself.
"You felt it too," he said.
She nodded. "Yes."
He pushed away from the door. "What was it?"
"I don't know," Aurelia replied honestly. "But it wasn't anger."
Kael let out a slow breath. "That worries me more."
She turned toward him fully. "Why?"
"Because anger is simple," he said. "It burns, then it's gone. Whatever this is… it's thinking."
Aurelia studied his face. "You've always known the curse was aware."
"Yes," Kael said. "But awareness isn't the same as attention."
They stood there for a moment, neither sitting, neither moving closer.
"You shouldn't have stood in front of them today," he said at last.
She smiled faintly. "You've already said that."
"And I'll say it again," he replied. "Because next time, they may not hesitate."
Aurelia crossed her arms loosely. "Neither will I."
Kael's jaw tightened. "That's not reassurance."
"No," she said gently. "It's honesty."
Silence stretched.
Finally, Kael asked, "Do you trust Saelreth?"
Aurelia considered the question carefully. "I trust that he wants understanding more than control."
"That wasn't my question."
She met his gaze. "Then no. Not completely."
Kael nodded. "Good."
He moved closer, lowering his voice. "Because whatever he uncovered tonight—it wasn't meant for the council."
Aurelia's brows knit slightly. "You think he hid something?"
"I think," Kael said, "that he's been hiding many things. From all of us. Including himself."
Later, Saelreth was summoned.
He arrived looking as though he had not yet decided whether he wanted to be found. His robes were slightly rumpled, his usual precision disrupted.
"You felt it," Aurelia said without preamble.
Saelreth hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."
Kael crossed his arms. "You broke a seal."
"I read a record," Saelreth corrected quietly. "One that was intentionally fragmented."
"By whom?" Kael demanded.
Saelreth looked at Aurelia instead. "By those who survived."
The room went still.
"Survived what?" Aurelia asked.
Saelreth exhaled. "Previous alignments."
Kael's voice sharpened. "Speak plainly."
Saelreth rubbed his thumb against his knuckle—a nervous habit Aurelia hadn't noticed before. "The curse doesn't always choose destruction. Sometimes it chooses continuity."
Aurelia's expression didn't change, but something inside her settled into place.
"And when it does?" she asked.
"It binds itself," Saelreth said. "Not to bloodlines. Not to thrones. To will."
Kael scoffed. "That's convenient."
"It's terrifying," Saelreth replied. "Because will can change."
Aurelia leaned forward slightly. "The records—what happened to those people?"
Saelreth hesitated too long.
"They disappeared," he said finally.
Kael slammed his hand against the table. "You see? This is exactly why—"
"Not all of them," Saelreth interrupted. "Some became… anchors."
Aurelia tilted her head. "Anchors don't disappear."
"No," Saelreth agreed. "They endure."
The word hung in the air.
Kael looked at Aurelia sharply. "That's what they'll turn you into."
"Only if I let them," she replied.
Saelreth met her gaze. "Or if you don't understand the cost."
She looked back at him. "Tell me."
Saelreth swallowed. "Alignment demands consistency. Once the force responds to you, it resists contradiction."
Kael's voice was low. "Meaning?"
"Meaning," Saelreth said, "you can't afford to fracture. Doubt weakens the boundary."
Aurelia absorbed this in silence.
"And fear?" she asked.
Saelreth shook his head slowly. "Fear sharpens it."
Kael turned away. "This is madness."
"No," Aurelia said softly. "It's responsibility."
When Saelreth left, the room felt emptier.
Kael spoke first. "You heard him."
"Yes."
"You're walking toward something no one has returned from unchanged."
She met his gaze. "So are you. You just call it duty."
He flinched.
"I won't become a symbol," Aurelia continued. "Not for them. Not for the curse."
"And if the curse disagrees?"
Aurelia's voice was steady. "Then it will have to learn restraint."
Kael stared at her. "You talk as if it listens."
"I think," she said carefully, "that it always has."
That night, Aurelia stood alone once more, but this time she did not speak aloud.
She did not need to.
Whatever watched her now was no longer searching.
It was waiting for consistency.