Aeryn had awakened something they feared; and something, deep within her, that feared itself.
She stood on the balcony of the High Keep that morning, veiled in wind and red silk, staring down at the marble courtyard where noblemen gathered with stiff backs and tightened lips. She didn't need to listen to know what they were saying. She could feel their unease in the way they shifted, how they whispered just out of her reach but within the burn of her awareness.
Something had shifted that night in the chamber when the past breathed through ink and shadow. A legacy had taken root inside her, sown in blood and stone. She had cried, breaking against the image of a mother's grief so ancient it stained generations after her.
But grief was a flame. And flames don't stay soft for long, unless extinguished.
The fire in her chest was calm now, cold at the edges like the glow of iron before it strikes. Her gown was layered in deep crimson and black, embroidered with twin phoenixes across her shoulders. Her crown sat untouched on the table behind her; she didn't need it anymore to command a room.
Sakina entered without knocking. "My queen," she said, slightly breathless, "they've sent another petition to dissolve the southern council;"
"Let them send parchment," Aeryn replied without turning. "They can bleed ink all they want."
Sakina lowered her gaze, though a smile touched her lips. "And if they gather steel instead?"
"Then I'll bend it," Aeryn said, a small tugging at her lips. She was sounding sarcastic.
She finally turned. Her eyes were quiet beneath the dark arch of her brows. She had changed, Sakina realized. Not just in posture, but in her silence. In the shadow that came with her, trailing like an old memory.
"Is it true?" Sakina dared ask. "They say… you moved the blood of Lord Taven's son. That he dropped to his knees without a wound on him."
"I was tired of his mouth," Aeryn said finally. "And his hands were too close to the servant girl."
Sakina's breath hitched, then she nodded. "Good."
The court had taken it as proof: their queen was not just grieving and brilliant, but something else. Something born of water and fire and blood that no man had ever mastered.
"I am not a girl anymore," she whispered. "And I am not a weapon."
"I am not afraid of what I carry," she said aloud. "I will shape it. I will choose what becomes of it."
Behind her, Sakina spoke. "They've called for another trial, my queen. They want to test your loyalty to the realm. A demonstration."
Aeryn looked back over her shoulder. "Demonstration? like a performance?"
Sakina nodded.
Aeryn turned fully. "hmmm…Then I'll give them one they'll never forget. Call Lord Vael and his daughter Lady Vienna to me."
Sakina hurried from the chamber, her steps swallowed by the stone halls.
......…..
Aeryn remained still, hands resting on the balcony rail. She could almost taste the pulse of the streets; the beating of countless lives, their fears, their voices, all threading into the hum of the realm.
When the summons was answered, the chamber door opened with a groan of iron hinges.
Lord Vael entered first; broad-shouldered, draped in indigo velvet, his eyes set with arrogance. Behind him walked his daughter, Lady Vienna, an epitome of nobility and grace, no more than twenty. Her hair fell like pale silk against a gown of river-blue. She did not meet Aeryn's eyes.
They bowed, stiff and shallow.
"My queen," Vael began, his voice low and careful, "I am told we are summoned in haste. May I ask why?"
Aeryn did not answer at once. She descended from the dais slowly, the train of her gown trailing like a dark flame. Her silence pressed into the chamber like a second presence, a weight that made even the seasoned lord falter.
When she finally spoke, her words cut clean. "You have been loud in council, Lord Vael. Louder than most."
Vael's jaw tensed. "I speak only for the realm, Your Majesty. For its peace."
"Peace! Hmmm…" Aeryn echoed, tasting the word as though it were ash. "And yet your peace has teeth lord vael. It gnashes at my decrees and gnaws at my throne."
Her gaze slid past him, to Vienna. The girl's hands twisted in the folds of her dress. Aeryn felt the tremor in her veins before she saw it, the small, silent plea tucked into her pulse.
"You want a demonstration," Aeryn said softly. "Of my authority, I presume."
"Very well."
She lifted her hand.
.
.
Join my Patron Accuscripter community today for just $4 and read 10 Chapters Ahead of the public release schedule!