thalina POV
They had been gone for two weeks. Two weeks in which rumors spread through Kaelas faster than merchant caravans. From the smoke-choked alleys of the lower districts to the marble halls of the palace, people were asking the same question: "Will he return?"
In the markets, women selling vegetables whispered it over their baskets. In the taverns, old craftsmen muttered it over mugs of ale. Guards at the city gates bet copper coins on whether Aric would make it through the Frozen Pass alive. To common folk, he had long been more than a commander — he was a story. A living legend.
They spoke of him with admiration, but also with a trace of fear. Some recalled the day he had dropped an armed man to his knees with nothing but a flick of his hand, without so much as touching him. Others swore they'd seen his blade flare with a strange light a heartbeat before his enemy collapsed. No one knew what it truly was, and he never explained it.
For his soldiers, that power was both a shield and a warning. They said fighting beside him was like standing by a calm river… knowing it could turn into a roaring flood without warning.
Thalina listened to all of it in silence. She had seen the way people's faces changed when they spoke his name — eyes widening, voices lowering, as though someone might overhear. But she knew the truth they didn't. She had seen that power up close. It was not blind, chaotic, or cruel. It was precise. Deliberate. Just like him.
And that was why she feared. Because if that power reached deep into the northern lands — among beings who had lived for thousands of years and knew the runes long before the first human spoke their names — it could become a weapon in someone else's hands.
She stood at the window of her chamber, watching the evening shadow creep along Kaelas's walls. She closed her eyes, remembering the last time she was in his arms. That look in his eyes — a mix of strength, certainty, and a silent promise that he would stand against the whole world for her if he had to.
In her hand, she held an amulet — an exact copy of the one Aric carried now. They had been made together, so that no matter where they went, a piece of the other would always remain. The metal was cool, but her palm warmed it, as if she could feel the faintest trace of his presence in it.
For several days now, she had felt… different. Morning sickness that passed quickly with mint tea. A bone-deep tiredness that sleep didn't fix. Her body more sensitive — to touch, to scents, to every subtle flutter low in her stomach that she might have imagined. The thought that came with it both frightened and warmed her. Maybe it was too soon… but what if it wasn't?
They may doubt you, Aric, she thought, resting her hand lightly against her abdomen. But I don't. I know who you are. And if you don't come back, it won't be because you were weak… it will be because you fought until the very end.
Her fingers closed tighter around the amulet. Its cold bite against her skin blurred in her mind with the warmth of his breath on her neck, the way it had been that night before he left.
She knew, wherever he was, he was fighting. And in the far north, he might now be deciding not only the fate of the kingdom… but the fate of the life she might already carry beneath her heart.