The courtyard had become a battlefield of gods.
The crimson blaze still lingered in the stones, the violet haze of shadow still clung to the walls, the faint embers of emerald fire still flickered against the cracked marble floor. But now, everything bowed before the light of the sun.
The Solar King stood as though the earth itself was his throne. His golden armor radiated warmth that burned the eyes, yet his expression carried no mercy. The glow from him was not simply light—it was judgment, wrapping the air so tightly that Aria could scarcely breathe.
Her knees pressed against the broken stone, trembling. She dared not lift her eyes fully.
And yet, she felt his gaze on her—piercing, unrelenting, as though he could see every secret she had ever kept.
The Verdant King staggered back, clutching his side where shadows had bitten into his ribs. His face twisted in fury and disbelief.
"You have no right!" he spat, fire crackling faintly at his fingertips. "She does not belong to you."
The Solar King's golden eyes slid to him.
"No right?" His voice reverberated like a hammer striking iron. "It is law. She was marked at birth. She was bound before she even drew breath."
Aria's heart jolted painfully.
Marked? Bound?
The Crimson King snarled, his molten blade burning in his hand once more. "You speak of laws written in dust. Old lies to chain the living. She is mine now. Mine to burn, mine to keep."
His fire roared higher, threatening to consume even the golden light.
The Solar King did not flinch. He did not even raise a hand.
"You mistake desire for dominion," he said coldly. "And that mistake will end your reign."
The Crimson King's face split in a grin, sharp as knives. "Then come and take it from me."
The Frostlands King groaned, dragging himself upright though his weight still leaned against the cracked wall. Frost bloomed around his boots with every breath, his skin pale as death.
"Fools," he rasped. His voice shook like shattering glass. "Do you not see? Every word you speak draws the shadows closer." His gaze flicked to Aria, hollow and resigned. "She cannot be claimed. She can only be destroyed."
Aria's lips parted in horror. "Destroyed…?"
But before she could press him, before she could demand the truth, the Solar King raised his hand.
And the world bent.
A circle of light spread from his palm, golden runes spinning across the air, searing themselves into the stone beneath their feet. The courtyard shook with the force of it, the cracks widening into black chasms that steamed as though the underworld itself lay beneath.
The runes wrapped around Aria like a cage of sunlight, cutting through shadow, burning away embers, silencing frost.
Her breath hitched as the warmth seared against her skin—not painful, but invasive, as though it was peeling back layers she had never meant anyone to see.
The Solar King's eyes burned brighter.
"You feel it, don't you?" he asked. "The bond. The pull. The law written in your very blood. You were always mine."
Aria's hands shook violently. She wanted to deny it, to scream that he was wrong, but something inside her—something buried deep, something older than her memories—answered him.
And that terrified her most of all.
The Verdant King lunged forward, shoving himself into the circle of runes, emerald fire colliding with golden light. The ground cracked, sparks flying as two powers clashed.
"She is not yours!" he shouted, his voice raw. "She is herself! And I will burn every law to ash before I let you touch her!"
His fire flared higher, his body trembling with the effort to withstand the Solar King's radiance. For a heartbeat, the runes faltered, dimming against his defiance.
Aria's throat constricted. For all his flaws, for all his jealousy, the Verdant King was willing to destroy himself to shield her.
The Solar King's face remained impassive.
"You cannot shield her from truth."
The Crimson King roared, slamming his molten blade against the circle. Fire streaked up, clashing with both green flame and golden light. Sparks rained down like meteors, scorching the stone, setting the courtyard ablaze.
Aria cried out as the cage of light trembled, threatening to shatter.
The Frostlands King's icy hand clamped around her wrist, pulling her back from the edge of the runes. His grip was weak, trembling, but his voice carried the weight of despair.
"Do you not understand?" he rasped. "Every time they fight, the bond grows stronger. Every time they claim you, the chain tightens." His gaze locked with hers, pale and unyielding. "It is not them you should fear. It is yourself."
Her chest tightened until she thought she would suffocate. Herself? What did he mean?
The ground shook again—harder, deeper. This time it wasn't the kings' powers colliding.
It was something older.
Something beneath.
The cracks in the stone glowed faintly violet, pulsing like veins, the same shade as the sorcerer's crystal. A low hum filled the air, vibrating through Aria's bones.
The sorcerer was not gone. His shadows were not broken. They had merely sunk deeper.
And now, they were rising.
A jagged hand of violet flame clawed its way out of the chasm, followed by another, and another. Dozens of them, writhing, clawing, reaching toward the sky.
The sorcerer's voice slithered up with them, dripping with mockery.
"Fight, kings. Tear each other apart. She will belong to none of you when her soul is mine."
Aria stumbled back, her body weak, her mind spinning. The four kings turned in unison, each bristling with power, each refusing to yield.
And in that instant, Aria knew the truth.
This wasn't a courtship. It wasn't love. It wasn't even possession.
It was war.
And she was the battlefield.
The sorcerer's crystal burst fully from the earth, massive and blazing, its light swallowing the courtyard.
And in its glow, Aria saw something reflected—
Her own face.
But her eyes burned violet.