The night was quiet. Peaceful.
Just the two of us in the tower dining hall, high above the castle spires where the cold wind couldn't reach us, the hearth was burning gently, and the shadows danced along the blackstone walls like lazy spirits.
Dinner was simple by royal standards: seared skybeast, soft-root stew, and crisp wine she had charmed from a glacier vineyard. I sat across from her in a thick robe, fork in hand, nervously cutting through my meal like I didn't belong here. She, as always, ate with the composed grace of someone who had ruled long before I was born.
But she was relaxed tonight.
Unusually so.
Her crown rested on the table beside her, her braid undone, her long silver hair falling like silk over her shoulders. She chewed slowly, savoring each bite, her golden eyes half-lidded as she listened to me ramble about nothing. About a funny book I found. About a bird that stole my slipper yesterday. About how the castle's west wing was definitely haunted.
She didn't laugh.
But her eyes softened.
That was enough.
Then the sky outside the tower flared red.
The kind of red that didn't come from sunset or firelight.
The kind of red that came from siege pyres and war banners.
A tremor ran through the floor.
Then a boom.
Then screaming.
I stopped mid-bite.
"W-What was that?"
Vilo didn't move.
Another boom.
Then a horn—long and deep—from the ramparts. The sound of an alarm that hadn't been blown in centuries.
I stood, heart pounding. "That can't be—"
A soldier burst into the room, panting, armor clattering. "Your Majesty! The humans—they've come—they've brought—"
"How many?" she asked, still seated.
"Three hundred thousand, my queen. Mages, siege engines, griffon cavalry. They've surrounded the mountain pass. They—"
She waved him away with one lazy flick of her fingers.
"I heard enough."
The soldier bowed and fled.
I turned to her. "Vilo, we need to evacuate—"
"No."
"W-What?!"
She picked up her goblet and sipped from it slowly, licking a drop from her lower lip. "They interrupted my dinner."
"I—I'm sure they didn't mean—"
She rose.
Not with a rush of power. Not with a blare of magic. She simply stood, graceful and calm, and walked toward the nearest balcony like she was stretching her legs.
I followed her, half-tripping over my chair.
Outside the window, the night burned.
The mountain range beyond the castle gates was alive with torchlight—an ocean of red, gold, and steel stretching across the landscape. Siege towers groaned forward. War horns sounded. Magic crackled from their archmages in preparation.
Three hundred thousand soldiers.
Arrayed like gods had willed their formation.
And Vilo?
She just stood there.
Annoyed.
"Disrespectful," she muttered. "This was our night."
She raised one hand.
Just one.
Lifted a single, pale finger to the sky.
I felt it before I saw it—a pressure in the air, like the world was sucking in breath, like time itself had paused to see what she would do.
Then came the light.
A pinpoint of white above her fingertip, no larger than a candle flame.
Then it grew.
And grew.
And grew.
A ball of magic, black at its edges, pulsing with colors I couldn't name, humming with the power of a thousand storms. It swelled to the size of a boulder, then a tower, then a castle, suspended in the air above us like a second moon ready to fall.
Wind screamed.
The balcony stones cracked.
Even the stars pulled back in fear.
She narrowed her eyes.
And flicked her finger.
The energy orb screamed through the night, down past the castle walls, across the valley floor—and into the heart of the human army.
It didn't explode.
It erased.
Silence fell first.
Then the mountains turned to glass.
The army was gone.
Not burned. Not crushed.
Gone.
The mountain range they had stood on—gone. A deep black crater smoldered where thousands of lives had been. Heat rose from the gouged earth, steam and ash spiraling skyward.
I stood there, mouth open, skin cold, heart pounding.
"Wh…what was that…?"
She turned back to me, tail flicking once.
"A warning."
I had seen her fight before.
I had seen her burn warlords, crush traitors, silence monsters.
But never like that.
Never so effortlessly.
Vilo walked back to the table without a word. Sat down. Took another bite of skybeast.
Then gestured toward my half-eaten plate.
"Well?" she said calmly. "Eat."
My knees were still shaking.
I returned slowly, numb, and lowered myself into the chair.
I couldn't stop staring at her.
She noticed.
"You look pale," she murmured. "Are you upset?"
"That wasn't power," I whispered. "That was… divinity."
She sighed, almost disappointed. "And they made me waste it on gnats."
I didn't speak.
Couldn't.
She stood again and came to me this time.
Her wings folded around my back, soft as midnight. Her tail coiled around my legs, sliding up gently until it looped around my waist and shoulders.
Then she leaned in, lips brushing my ear.
"You're mine," she whispered. "And I won't let anyone interrupt my time with you."
I nodded slowly.
"…Yes, ma'am."
She kissed my cheek.
"Now be a good consort," she said, settling back into her seat with me bundled in her tail and wings like a favored pet. "And eat."
And I did.
Even if my hands trembled the entire time.
Because for the first time since meeting her, I truly understood—
What she really was.
And what she'd do to protect me.
[Season 2 End]