The war room was chaos incarnate.
Messengers darted in and out with reports clutched in sweaty hands, officers snapped at each other over supply lines, and nobles sniffed disdainfully while muttering about coin. The oak table at the center, scarred by years of campaigns, was nearly buried beneath maps, markers, and ink-stained papers. The smell of steel oil, tallow smoke, and Kael's faint frost clung to the air.
Marin stood at Kael's right side, trying not to look like she was in the wrong room entirely. It's just like a market, she told herself. They bargain, they posture, they shout over each other… except here the currency is lives.
Kael's expression was unreadable granite. He waited for the din to reach its peak, then cut across it with a single word: "Enough."
For a heartbeat, silence obeyed. Then voices flared again, crashing like waves against stone.
Marin leaned closer to study the map before her. Supply lines crisscrossed in messy red ink, notes scrawled in margins. She reached for a parchment at the edge just as a cluster of officers pressed in, jostling her sideways. Her balance faltered—
Straight into Kael.
His hand shot out, closing firmly around hers. Warmth and steadiness anchored her where she might have stumbled.
The room changed.
Kael's magic stirred—like a wolf snapping awake. Frost curled faintly along the carved edge of the oak, but controlled, contained. His voice, when he spoke again, was clear as cut crystal. "Captain Rourke, your men shift to the northern ridge. Darrick, divert grain shipments here and here. Ren, rotate scouts to Lantern Lane—quietly. No panic in the streets."
The transformation was immediate. The uncertainty in the room dissipated; the officers stilled, listening as though a fog had lifted from their minds. Even Lord Darrick, perpetually red-faced and obstinate, scribbled furiously without protest.
Marin blinked. What just happened? He's always commanding, but this… this is sharper. Stronger. Like the world itself leaned in to listen.
Kael's thumb brushed over her knuckles absently as he gestured to a route on the map. He didn't seem to realize he was still holding her hand—or perhaps he did, and simply didn't care.
Her heart gave a wild skip. Saints help me, if he doesn't let go soon, my knees are going to betray me in front of all these officers.
Across the table, Ren coughed pointedly. "General, if you're quite finished discovering new… techniques… shall we continue?"
Kael didn't even glance at him. "We are continuing." His tone was edged ice. But still, he did not let her go.
The officers' morale swelled; nods replaced arguments, voices steadied, plans flowed. When the meeting adjourned, they filed out with unusual discipline, whispering to each other as they went.
Marin caught the murmurs:"Lady Luck again.""His orders came clearer the moment she touched him.""She strengthens him."
By the time the chamber emptied, she wanted to bury her face in her hands. Perfect. They'll be lining up to shake my hand before battles. What am I, a walking charm?
Kael released her hand only when the last officer left, his movements deliberate, reluctant. Frost receded from the table.
Marin flexed her fingers, still tingling. "So," she said lightly, masking her racing heart. "That was… efficient."
Kael studied her, eyes narrowing slightly. "It was different."
She tilted her head, feigning nonchalance. "Different good or different bad?"
His lips curved faintly, almost a smile. "Different essential."
The word struck deeper than it should have. Her chest tightened. She looked away quickly. No, no, no. Don't start hoping. He's a general. You're an accident waiting to happen.
Later, in the stone corridor outside, their footsteps echoed together. Torches hissed in sconces, shadows stretching long across the walls. Marin kept her eyes forward, but she could feel Kael's gaze like a physical thing.
Finally, he spoke, low and even. "You felt it too."
Her heart skipped. "Felt… what?"
"The change," he said. "When I held your hand. My magic sharpened. My thoughts were clearer. It was as if…" His jaw worked, searching for words. "…as if you amplified it."
Marin's pulse raced. She tried for humor. "So now I'm not just Lady Luck, I'm also Lady Lightning Rod?"
His mouth curved. "If that's what it takes." He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. "Stay close during councils. Your presence makes a difference."
Her cheeks burned under the intensity of his gaze. "Kael…" she began, meaning to protest, to point out how absurd it was—But what slipped out was softer. "Always?"
"Always," he said without hesitation.
For a moment the world narrowed to the cold stone beneath her shoes, the faint frost in the air, and his promise hanging between them. She almost swayed forward. Almost.
A soldier passed at the far end of the hall, whispering to another: "Lady Luck. She steadies him. You saw it."
Marin groaned inwardly. Wonderful. It's official. Next they'll expect me to hold hands with every captain in the army.
Still… her fingers tingled with the ghost of Kael's touch, and she couldn't quite erase the warmth it left behind.