Chapter 13 — Servants Who Bow
Elowen learned very quickly that fear did not vanish just because safety had arrived.
It changed shape.
The first time she walked the inner halls of Blackspire as Lady Draven, the servants bowed so deeply their foreheads nearly brushed the stone. Every step she took echoed, magnified by vaulted ceilings and walls carved with ancient runes. Their eyes never lingered on her face. They lowered their gazes as if she were something sacred or dangerous.
She did not know which frightened her more.
Kael walked beside her, unhurried, his presence commanding without effort. He wore dark formal attire today black tailored fabric traced faintly with sigils of protection and authority. No armor. No weapons visible. And yet the air bent around him all the same.
Elowen clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling.
"You may walk a pace behind if you wish," Kael said quietly, not looking at her.
She startled. "I no. I don't want to."
His eyes flicked to her, surprised, then something unreadable softened. He slowed slightly so they walked side by side, their shoulders almost aligned.
Almost.
The Great Hall loomed ahead.
Elowen felt it before she saw it the weight of attention waiting inside. Blackspire's court did not chatter like others she had heard of. There were no musicians warming strings, no laughter drifting through corridors.
This was a place of power.
The doors opened.
Conversation died instantly.
Elowen's breath caught as she stepped into the hall.
It was vast long tables arranged in deliberate order, banners of allied territories hanging high above, their colors muted by age and shadow. Lords, commanders, mages, and emissaries turned as one.
Their eyes found her.
Some were curious.
Some skeptical.
Some openly hostile.
And a few very few looked at her with something sharp and assessing.
Kael did not slow.
He guided her forward with a light touch at her back not possessive, not forceful. Anchoring.
"This is Lady Elowen Draven," he said, his voice calm but carrying easily across the hall. "My wife."
The word rippled through the room.
Whispers stirred, restrained but unmistakable.
Elowen forced herself to lift her chin.
She had been invisible her entire life. Overlooked. Dismissed. Used.
Now, she was being seen.
And it terrified her.
"Come," Kael murmured, steering her toward the high table.
They took their seats Kael at the center, Elowen to his right.
Not behind.
Not beneath.
At his side.
She noticed the shift immediately.
Some nobles stiffened.
Others exchanged glances.
A woman seated several places down leaned back slightly, her crimson painted lips curling into a smile that did not reach her eyes. She was beautiful in a sharp, deliberate way dark hair braided with gold threads, eyes lined in kohl.
Elowen felt the look like a blade against her skin.
"That," Kael said under his breath, noticing Elowen's gaze, "is Lady Seraphine Valecourt."
The name stirred something distant. "She looks important."
"She is," Kael replied flatly. "Her family commands three eastern battalions. She was once… a political consideration."
Elowen's chest tightened.
Once.
Seraphine's gaze slid deliberately over Elowen her simple gown, her unadorned hair, the way her hands folded too carefully in her lap. The smile sharpened.
"So this is the girl," Seraphine said aloud, her voice smooth and carrying. "I expected someone… taller."
Silence fell.
Elowen's face burned.
Before she could react, Kael spoke.
"Then you should recalibrate your expectations," he said calmly. "They are not required to please you."
A ripple of suppressed reaction swept the hall.
Seraphine laughed softly. "As you wish, my lord. I merely wondered what House Ashmere offered that justified such a union."
Elowen's fingers clenched.
Kael's presence changed.
Not dramatically. Not explosively.
But the shadows deepened along the edges of the hall, subtle and unmistakable to anyone attuned to power.
"They offered peace," he said. "And I accepted."
Seraphine inclined her head, smile never fading. "Of course."
Her gaze lingered on Elowen again measuring, dismissive.
Elowen swallowed and forced herself to speak.
"I hope," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart, "that I will prove worthy of the peace my husband values."
The hall went still.
Seraphine blinked.
Kael turned to look at Elowen, surprise flickering across his expression before something deeper approval settled in.
"Well spoken," murmured an older lord farther down the table.
Seraphine studied Elowen anew, her smile thinning. "Perhaps."
The meal continued.
Elowen barely tasted the food. She was too aware of every glance, every whisper, every subtle shift of posture around her. This was not a court that welcomed softness. It was one that tested weakness relentlessly.
Kael spoke little, but when he did, the room listened.
Once, when a lord addressed Elowen directly questioning her knowledge of border matters Kael did not interrupt.
He watched.
Elowen hesitated, then answered honestly. "I was not raised to study maps or troop movements. But I know what hunger does to a household. I know what fear looks like when it is quiet."
The lord stared at her.
"That," Kael said, "is knowledge many commanders lack."
The lord inclined his head.
Elowen's chest warmed.
After the meal, as the court dispersed, servants bowed again lower than before. Word spread quickly in Blackspire.
She had spoken.
She had not broken.
As they walked the halls afterward, Elowen finally let out the breath she'd been holding. "I think I offended half the room."
Kael's mouth twitched. "Only half?"
She glanced up at him, startled and saw the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.
It felt like sunlight breaking through stormclouds.
"I didn't mean to speak," she said. "I just "
"You spoke well," he interrupted. "And you spoke as yourself. That matters more than polish."
She hesitated. "Seraphine… she doesn't like me."
Kael stopped walking.
He turned to face her fully, his expression serious. "You are not here to be liked."
The words should have stung.
Instead, they grounded her.
"You are here because you are my wife," he continued. "And because you are under my protection. Anyone who forgets that will be reminded."
She searched his face. "Even if they're powerful?"
"Especially if they're powerful."
Something fluttered in her chest not fear.
Trust.
That night, Elowen stood alone in her chambers, staring at her reflection. She barely recognized the woman looking back.
Not because she looked noble.
But because she looked… present.
When the knock came, she expected a servant.
Instead, Kael entered quietly.
"I wanted to be certain you were alright," he said.
"I am," she replied. Then, after a pause, "I think."
He nodded, understanding more than she said.
"You did well today."
The praise warmed her more than the fire.
"Will it always be like this?" she asked. "Eyes. Judgment."
"Yes," Kael said honestly. "But you will grow stronger."
She met his gaze. "So will I?"
His eyes softened. "You already are."
Silence stretched between them not awkward, but charged. He was close enough now that she could feel the warmth of him, the steady strength that had become oddly familiar.
"Kael," she said quietly.
"Yes?"
"Thank you… for standing beside me."
He hesitated, then lifted a hand stopping just short of touching her cheek. A silent question.
She nodded.
His fingers brushed her skin gentle, reverent. Not claiming. Not demanding.
Just there.
Elowen leaned into the touch before she realized she'd moved.
Kael inhaled sharply.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to that single point of contact.
Then he withdrew, carefully.
"Goodnight, Elowen."
"Goodnight," she whispered.
As he left, she pressed her fingers to the place his hand had been and felt something undeniable take root.
This marriage was no longer just survival.
It was becoming something else entirely.