The army reached the northern passes twelve days later.
Orion stood on the walls of the palace and listened to the reports as they came in. Seven thousand, the scouts said. Maybe eight. Moving slow, but moving steady. They'd stopped at the mouth of the pass and set up camp. Waiting.
Waiting for what?
"That's the question, isn't it?" General Aris paced the map room like a caged animal. "They've got the advantage of surprise. They've got a traitor feeding them information. Why stop now?"
"Maybe they're not ready," someone suggested. "Maybe they're waiting for reinforcements."
"Reinforcements from where? There's nothing north of them but mountains and snow."
Orion listened from his corner, saying nothing. He'd been doing that a lot lately—listening, watching, waiting. Lady Mira sat in her usual place, her face calm, her eyes moving constantly around the room. She looked like a woman waiting for something too.
The council argued for hours. Send more troops to the pass. No, hold them back. Attack now while they're camped. No, wait for them to make the first move. On and on, circling the same points, reaching no conclusions.
Finally, Kaelen stood. "Enough. We've talked this to death. General Aris, you have your orders. Hold the pass. Do not engage unless they attack first. I want to know what they're waiting for before we do anything stupid."
The room emptied. Orion stayed in his corner, watching Lady Mira leave. She walked with Lord Cassian, their heads close together, murmuring too quietly to hear. Elara slipped out behind them, her shadow following where she couldn't.
Kaelen sat down heavily in his chair. "You see anything I missed?"
"She's nervous," Orion said. "Not scared, but nervous. Like she's expecting something to happen."
"She's expecting them to move. We all are." He rubbed his eyes. "Go get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be long."
Orion went. But he didn't sleep.
Instead, he found himself walking the corridors, his boots silent on the stone, his mind turning over the same questions again and again. What were they waiting for? What could possibly be worth stopping an army in its tracks?
He ended up at Elara's door. No answer. He tried their secret room. Empty. He checked the practice yard, the kitchens, the garden. Nothing.
A knot formed in his stomach. He went back to her room and this time, he went in.
Empty. But her bed wasn't made. That was strange—Elara was obsessive about making her bed. Their mother had drilled it into them since they could walk. A neat room meant a neat mind, Seraphina always said.
Orion looked closer. The sheets were rumpled, but not slept-in rumpled. More like someone had lain on top of them, then gotten up quickly. The pillow was still dented.
He checked her wardrobe. Her warmest cloak was missing. Her good boots. The knife she kept under her pillow.
She was gone.
---
Orion ran.
He ran to his father's chambers, bursting through the door without knocking. Kaelen was still awake, still in his clothes, reading reports by candlelight. He looked up sharply.
"She's gone." Orion gasped. "Elara's gone. Her cloak, her boots, her knife. She went somewhere."
Kaelen was on his feet instantly. "When?"
"I don't know. Sometime tonight. Her bed—she hadn't slept in it."
They stood there for one terrible moment, father and son, both thinking the same thing. Then Kaelen was moving, shouting for guards, for horses, for torches.
The palace erupted into chaos. Guards poured into the courtyard. Someone found tracks leading to the north gate. Someone else found a guard who'd been on duty, drowsy, not quite sure if he'd seen a figure slip past or dreamed it.
Orion stood in the middle of it all, frozen. She'd gone north. Alone. Toward an army of eight thousand people who wanted his family dead.
"Why?" he whispered. No one heard.
Kaelen found him a few minutes later. His face was grey.
"She left a note." He held out a piece of paper. "Under my door. I didn't see it until just now."
Orion grabbed it. Elara's handwriting, messy and rushed.
Father,
You said the king's job is choosing which hurts to accept. I'm not the king. I'm not the heir. I'm the one who can do what you can't.
I'm going to talk to them. Not as a princess—as a cousin. Family to family. Maybe they'll listen. Maybe they won't. But we have to try before anyone dies.
Don't come after me. By the time you read this, I'll be too far ahead.
Tell Orion I love him. Tell him to be brave.
Elara
Orion read it three times. Then he looked at his father.
"We have to go after her."
"She told us not to."
"She's my sister." His voice cracked. "She's my sister and she's walking into an army camp alone. We have to go after her."
Kaelen stared at him for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Get your cloak. We ride in ten minutes."
---
They rode through the night, a small group of riders—Kaelen, Orion, a dozen of the king's personal guard. The road north was rough, barely more than a track, and the darkness made it worse. Orion's horse stumbled twice, nearly throwing him. He held on, leaning forward, urging the animal faster.
Dawn found them at the first waystation, a small inn where travelers could rest and change horses. The innkeeper looked stunned to see the king, but he recovered quickly.
"A girl?" he said, in answer to Kaelen's question. "Yes, Your Majesty. Came through a few hours ago. Pretty thing, dark hair, looked tired. Bought a fresh horse and kept going."
"How far ahead?"
"Four hours, maybe five. Depends on how fast she's pushing."
Kaelen thanked him and they rode on.
Orion's body ached. He'd never ridden this hard, this long. His legs were raw, his back screamed, his eyes burned with exhaustion. But he kept going. Elara was ahead. Elara needed him.
The second waystation was empty. The innkeeper there hadn't seen her. Neither had the third. By midday, they'd lost her trail.
Kaelen called a halt. They'd reached the foothills now, the mountains looming ahead, the pass visible in the distance. Somewhere beyond that pass, an army waited.
"She could have taken a side trail," one of the guards said. "There are dozens of them through these hills. Hunters' paths, mostly. Easy to miss."
"We'll spread out," Kaelen said. "Look for sign. She can't have vanished completely."
Orion dismounted, his legs nearly buckling. He walked away from the others, scanning the ground, looking for anything—a hoofprint, a scrap of cloth, something. The hills stretched in every direction, empty and silent.
He found it by accident. A small piece of cloth caught on a thornbush, fluttering in the wind. Blue. Elara's favorite color.
He held it up. Kaelen rode over and took it.
"She went this way." He looked at the path leading into the hills. "It's a longer route to the pass. Rougher. Harder on the horses."
"Why would she take it?"
"Because she doesn't want to be found." He handed the cloth back. "We follow."
The path was barely there—just a trace through the rocks, easy to miss if you weren't looking. They followed it for another hour, climbing higher into the hills. The air grew colder. Snow patches appeared in the shadows.
And then they found her horse.
It stood by the trail, head down, exhausted. No saddle. No Elara.
Orion was off his horse before anyone could stop him. "Elara!" He ran down the trail, calling her name. "Elara!"
Nothing. Just the wind and the rocks and the terrible silence.
Kaelen caught up to him. "She's on foot now. Can't be far."
They searched for another hour. Found nothing. The trail split in a dozen directions. Footprints in the snow that could have been anyone's. No sign of her.
Orion sat down on a rock and put his head in his hands. She was gone. She'd slipped away into the mountains and they'd never find her.
Kaelen sat beside him. Said nothing. Just put an arm around his shoulders and held on.
---
They made camp that night in a hollow between the hills. The guards built a fire and set watches. Kaelen insisted Orion eat something. He tried. It tasted like nothing.
"She's smart," Kaelen said quietly. "She's resourceful. She's been training for this her whole life without even knowing it."
"It's not enough. She's one girl against an army."
"She's not fighting them. She's talking to them." He stared into the fire. "Maybe they'll listen. Maybe they'll see her for what she is—brave, honest, willing to risk everything for peace. Maybe that matters."
"Or maybe they'll kill her."
Kaelen didn't answer. He didn't have to.
They sat in silence until the fire burned low. Then Orion lay down, wrapped in his cloak, and stared at the stars. The constellation Andromeda was there, right above him. His ancestors, supposedly, watching over him.
Watch over her, he thought. Please. Watch over her.
---
Morning came cold and grey. They broke camp at first light and pushed on, following the trail as best they could. By midday, they'd reached the edge of the mountains. Below them, the pass stretched out, a narrow valley between peaks.
And there, in the distance, the army.
Orion saw it from the ridge—tents and campfires and men moving like ants. Thousands of them. Banners flying. The mountain with the star.
His heart sank.
"How do we find her in that?" he whispered.
"We don't." Kaelen's voice was heavy. "We wait. We watch. And we hope."
They found a spot with a clear view of the camp and settled in. The guards spread out, watching for any sign. Orion sat on a rock and stared at the army below, searching for a single girl he couldn't possibly see.
Hours passed. The sun moved across the sky. Nothing changed.
And then, near sunset, something did.
A group of riders emerged from the camp. Small—maybe ten people. Riding toward the pass, toward the kingdom. Toward them.
Kaelen raised a spyglass. He looked for a long moment. Then he lowered it, his face strange.
"What?" Orion demanded. "What is it?"
"One of them." His voice was rough. "Smaller than the rest. Dark hair."
Orion grabbed the spyglass. It took him a moment to find them, to focus, to see—
Elara.
She was riding at the front of the group. Not as a prisoner—her hands were free, her back straight. Beside her rode an old man, white-haired, straight-backed despite his years. They were talking, heads close together, like old friends.
Orion lowered the spyglass. His hands were shaking.
"She did it," he said. "She actually did it."
"We don't know that yet." But Kaelen's voice had hope in it for the first time in days.
They watched the riders approach. Watched them climb the trail toward the ridge. When they were close enough to see faces, Orion recognized Elara's expression—tired, but satisfied. Proud.
She saw them and raised a hand.
The riders stopped a hundred yards away. The old man dismounted. Elara did too. She walked toward Orion and Kaelen, leaving the others behind.
"You came after me," she said when she reached them. She didn't sound surprised.
"Of course we came after you." Orion wanted to hug her, hit her, both at once. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking someone had to try." She looked at Kaelen. "I'm sorry I disobeyed. I'm sorry I worried you. But I had to."
Kaelen pulled her into a hug so tight she gasped. "Don't ever do that again."
"I can't promise that." But she was hugging him back, her face buried in his chest.
When they finally separated, Elara turned to Orion.
"I met him. The one who's been leading this." She glanced back at the old man, still waiting with his riders. "His name is Eldric. He's Grandfather's brother. Your grandfather's brother."
Orion stared at her. "That would make him—"
"One hundred and twenty-three years old. Give or take." She almost smiled. "He's been waiting a long time."
"Why isn't he trying to kill you?"
"Because I listened." She took a deep breath. "He doesn't want war. He never did. He wanted someone to acknowledge what happened. To admit that his family was wronged. To give them a place."
"A place in the kingdom?"
"A place at the table. Recognition. A seat on the council. A future for his people that isn't hiding in the mountains." She looked at Kaelen. "He wants peace, Father. Real peace. But he needs to hear it from you."
Kaelen was quiet for a long moment. Then he looked at the old man waiting in the distance.
"Bring him."
---
They met on neutral ground, halfway between the ridge and the riders. Just the three of them—Kaelen, Orion, and Elara—facing Eldric and two of his people. No guards. No weapons drawn. Just family.
Eldric was older than anyone Orion had ever seen. His face was a map of wrinkles, his eyes pale blue and sharp as ice. He moved slowly, carefully, but there was nothing weak about him.
"Kaelen." His voice was dry as old paper. "I've waited a long time to meet you."
"And I you." Kaelen's voice was steady. "Though I didn't know you existed until recently."
"No. They made sure of that. Your ancestors. My ancestors. They wrote us out of the records and hoped we'd disappear." He smiled, a thin expression without warmth. "We didn't."
"Why now? Why after all these years?"
"Because I'm dying." The words were simple, matter-of-fact. "I have months left, maybe less. And when I go, my people will have a choice—follow my son, who wants war, or follow my daughter, who wants peace. I needed to see for myself which path was possible."
He looked at Elara. "Your daughter convinced me. She rode into my camp alone, unarmed, and asked to talk. Not as a princess, not as an enemy. As family." He nodded slowly. "That took courage. The kind of courage that builds peace, not destroys it."
Kaelen followed his gaze. "She's special."
"Yes. She is." Eldric turned back to him. "So here's my offer. Recognition for my people. A seat on your council. Land in the north that we can call our own. In return, we lay down our arms. We become part of your kingdom, not a threat to it." He paused. "And when I die, my children will honor the agreement. I'll make sure of it."
Kaelen considered. "And the army?"
"Stays where it is until we reach an agreement. Then it goes home." He smiled again, a little wider this time. "I'm too old to fight a war. I'd rather end this the way it should have ended a hundred years ago."
Kaelen looked at Orion. Orion looked at Elara. Elara nodded, just slightly.
"We need to talk," Kaelen said. "My council will have to approve any agreement. But—" He held out his hand. "—I want peace. I've always wanted peace."
Eldric looked at the offered hand for a long moment. Then he took it.
"Then let's make peace."
They stood there, the two kings, hands clasped. Behind them, the sun was setting over the mountains, painting the sky in shades of gold and red.
Orion watched and felt something he hadn't felt in months.
Hope.