Elira sat at the far end of the long obsidian table, flanked by foreign ministers, lords in brocade, and generals who hadn't smiled in decades. They were the Council Chamber members of Solvelyn. At the head of the table sat Kael, princely in posture and glacial in temperament.
A matter of trade had sparked the meeting a small border town plagued by raiders, its resources critical to the winter supply chain.
"The solution is clear," Lord Rhovas growled. "Send troops. A show of strength will cause them to deter."
Elira's voice was calm, but firm. "If we send soldiers now, the rebels will only retreat into the forests and return stronger. What they want is recognition. If we send an envoy, they'll negotiate. We avoid bloodshed."
Rhovas sneered. "Elyndor ideas, soft as ever."
Elira smiled frostily. "And yet Elyndor didn't burn when food was short. Empires collapse not from war, but from pride."
Kael cut her a sharp look. "This isn't your kingdom."
"I'm aware," she said coolly, eyes never leaving his. She wasn't going to be put into a corner because of her kingdoms situation. "But it will starve like mine if you keep ignoring the roots of your problems."
A long, icy silence followed.
Then Kael turned away. "We'll proceed with the troop movement."
The meeting ended shortl. Elira left without another word, her jaw tight, hands cold from gripping the edge of the table too hard.
That night, she walked the palace halls restlessly. Her thoughts filled with anger not just at being ignored, but at how right she was, and how much it didn't matter.
She passed the war chamber by chance, its doors ajar.
Voices murmured inside.
Elira paused.
"…Pull back the western legion. Send envoys through the village chief—offer terms of negotiation. Quietly. No banners."
It was Kael's voice.
Elira's eyes narrowed. She stepped closer, heart thudding.
"Do it under House Ventar's seal," he added to his advisor. "Let it look like their idea. If the Princess asks, we kept our original plan."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Elira walked away before she could be caught listening.
So he had listened to her. He'd ignored her in front of the council, but used her plan behind closed doors.
He didn't want her voice at the table.
But he wanted her mind.
And he'd rather take the credit—or give it to someone else than admit that.
Hearts like Kael's didn't bleed. Not in front of others.
But they still beat.
And she was starting to hear it.