Chapter 23 — A Smile Meant for Another
Elowen had never liked mirrors.
They reminded her too much of who she had been. head bowed, shoulders curved inward, a girl who learned early that taking up space meant inviting punishment. Even now, standing in the guest chambers of the capital palace, silk draped over her like something borrowed, she felt as though the reflection staring back at her might shatter if she breathed too hard.
Mistress Virelle circled her slowly, sharp eyes missing nothing.
"Stand straight," the older woman said. "You are Lady Blackspire now, whether the court likes it or not."
Elowen obeyed, lifting her chin. The gown was a deep dusk blue, modest by court standards but elegant, its sleeves embroidered with subtle silver thread that caught the light when she moved. It hid the faint scars along her wrists. Kael had insisted on that quietly, firmly.
He had not said why.
"You will not cling to Lord Blackspire tonight," Virelle continued. "Let them see you can stand alone."
Elowen nodded, though her fingers twisted together at her waist.
"I can do this," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Virelle's expression softened just a fraction. "Yes," she said. "You can."
The grand hall of the capital was everything Elowen feared it would be.
Light poured down from enchanted chandeliers, refracted through crystal and magic until the air itself shimmered. Nobles gathered in clusters like jeweled predators, their laughter sharp, their gazes sharper. Conversations paused as Kael entered beside her.
The air changed.
It always did.
The Void King did not need to announce himself. His presence pressed down like an invisible weight, his power coiled so tightly beneath his skin that even those who could not sense magic felt it instinctively. Whispers followed in his wake.
Monster.
Butcher.
Blackspire's Demon.
Kael did not react. He never did. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable, dark eyes scanning the room with a soldier's precision. His hand rested lightly at Elowen's back not possessive, not guiding, simply there.
A choice.
Elowen felt steadier for it.
They had barely taken three steps into the hall when someone broke from the crowd.
"Elowen."
She turned at the sound of her name and froze.
Lord Cedric Valenwood looked exactly as she remembered him
Golden haired, impeccably dressed, his smile warm and familiar. He had been kind once, in small ways never cruel, never dismissive. When she had still been a maid in Ashmere's halls, he had been one of the few who spoke to her like a person.
"Elowen," he repeated, bowing slightly. "It's… good to see you."
For a heartbeat, the noise of the hall faded.
"Oh," she said softly. "Lord Cedric."
Kael's hand at her back stilled.
Cedric's gaze flicked briefly to Kael, then returned to her, lingering in a way that made Elowen suddenly aware of how close she stood to her husband.
"You look well," Cedric said. "Better than well."
Heat crept into her cheeks. "Thank you."
It was instinctive, the way her lips curved upward. A small smile. Polite. Gentle.
Kael saw it.
The Void responded.
It was subtle so subtle most would not notice. A faint pressure, a tightening of the air, as though the shadows at the edges of the hall leaned inward. Kael's magic stirred, dark and restless, reacting to something sharp and unwelcome in his chest.
Jealousy.
He despised the feeling.
Cedric noticed the shift, his brows drawing together. "I had hoped," he said carefully, "to see you again under… different circumstances."
Elowen hesitated. "Different?"
"You deserved better than what your family did to you," he said, voice low. "And I fear they've only traded one prison for another."
The words struck deeper than he knew.
Before Elowen could respond, Kael spoke.
"My wife is not imprisoned," he said calmly.
Cedric turned fully toward him now. "Is she not?"
The hall seemed to hold its breath.
Kael's gaze was cold, measuring. "She stands where she chooses."
Cedric looked back at Elowen. "Is that true?"
Elowen felt every eye on her.
Her old instincts screamed at her to soften, to deflect, to make herself smaller. But something steadier rose in her chest a warmth that did not burn, a strength she was only beginning to recognize as her own.
"Yes," she said.
Cedric searched her face, as though trying to read what lay beneath her words. For a moment, something like regret crossed his expression.
"If you ever wish for something different," he said quietly, "know that you have friends."
Kael's jaw tightened.
Elowen nodded. "Thank you."
Cedric bowed once more and withdrew into the crowd.
The moment he was gone, the pressure eased. Kael exhaled slowly, though his hand remained at her back.
"I did not like that," he said.
She glanced up at him. "I noticed."
Silence stretched between them as they moved deeper into the hall.
"You smiled at him," Kael said at last.
It was not an accusation. It was an observation.
Elowen's heart stuttered. "I didn't mean "
"I know," he interrupted quietly.
She studied his profile the sharp lines, the calm mask he wore so well. "Does it bother you?"
"Yes."
The honesty startled her more than anger would have.
"Why?" she asked.
Kael stopped walking.
In the middle of the grand hall, surrounded by nobles and whispers, he turned to face her fully.
"Because," he said, voice low, "the world has taken enough from you. I will not be one of the things that cages you. But I would be lying if I said I felt nothing when another man looks at you like that."
Her breath caught.
"Like what?" she whispered.
"Like he is imagining a life that is not mine," Kael said.
The words settled between them, heavy and intimate.
Elowen's pulse thundered in her ears. "Kael… I don't belong to anyone else."
His gaze darkened. "You do not belong to anyone," he said. "Not even me."
Then, more softly, "But I want you to choose me."
The vulnerability in his voice unraveled something in her chest.
Before she could answer, the music shifted, signaling the start of the evening's dance.
Kael extended his hand.
"Dance with me," he said.
It was not a command.
Elowen placed her hand in his.
As they moved together across the polished floor, the world narrowed to the space between them. His touch was careful, restrained, but the heat beneath it was undeniable. Every step brought them closer, not just in body, but in something deeper something dangerous.
Around them, whispers grew louder.
The Void King was dancing.
With his wife.
And for the first time since entering the hall, Elowen smiled again this time, meant only for him.