The chamber froze.
Kaelith, staring at the letter in her hand, appeared unbothered. Thalia's gaze remained fixed on her, unrelenting. Despite the tension, Kaelith looked far less troubled.
Corven stepped forward, eyes flickering between the two women.
"Thalia, turn your gaze away from Kaelith and put the sword down."
"This is her fault," Thalia snapped. "She is the one who broke and entered."
"Out of context. Now together with the swath of Outers gunning for me, it exposes—very publicly—what I pointed out earlier," Kaelith replied, retracting the invitation letter once more.
As the ridicule of strife flared in Thalia's moistened eyes, laughter followed.
Kaelith untangled certain provisions she had prepared, careful not to raise a finger against judgment.
Corven narrowed his eyes. "What are you—"
"Two closed proofs, yes," Kaelith said, her upper lip curled. "But these sheets decipher everything. They are pristine."
"My secrets for court ears, my ring, my identity, my name—this is what you owe me."
Corven's tone turned to frost. "Is it true, Thalia?"
Thalia's expression distorted. "You'll put your trust in an accused widow raised by vultures? She's only standing here because I let her breathe instead of finishing my business."
Those words echoed. Too many times.
Corven's gaze hardened.
Kaelith's words were sharp enough to fracture bone.
"You set me up. You were planning it from the moment you took my legs from under me. I might not be what you painted me to be, but reality isn't far from grulf."
She stopped in front of Thalia—close enough that their noses almost touched.
"A storm waves... and follows suit into the abyss," she said quietly. "I am that."
Thalia's springboard dagger lunged at Kaelith.
Kaelith caught the swing's edge on her shoulder, gritting her teeth—but still standing.
Corven shouted and dashed toward Thalia. But the trap? Too predictable.
It all happened in a blur. Kaelith ducked and kicked the large knife, sending it spinning across the floor. She grabbed it and placed it neatly upon the marble floor—like an offering to justice.
As if summoned, guards smashed open the doors right on cue.
"S-She said spare me! I'm to be seized!" Thalia shouted. "That one hit me first!"
Thalia treated the guards, whose gazes were glued to Corven, like minor pets at her feet.
"She's toying with words. My—my soldiers will be killed!" Thalia clutched her bleeding shoulder, trembling. Diamond blood dripped to the floor, urging the flames to run free. "Guard me!"
From the shadows, guards stepped forward, rope bounds lifted to secure her.
Eyes softened as the bodies were struck.
"Payments. Poisonings. Deceit. All of it was signed by Thalia and Caldreth."
Kaelith's voice echoed.
"Aye, but the truth has its ways of emerging."
Thalia tried to flee—but the guards had already surrounded her.
She thrashed and cursed, her screams echoing.
"Do you believe this changes anything?! I am Ravencourt now! You're just scattered embers!"
Bound, face to face, Kaelith gripped her kneeling torso.
"No," she breathed. "I am the fire."
She remained on the floor as dawn crept in, letting the light filter through the throne room while Kaelith stood alone.
From where she stood, she shot a disappointed look toward the cracked marble shard from which Thalia had fallen.
Corven approached from behind, silent.
"You saved the kingdom from rot," he whispered.
"No," Kaelith responded. "I excised a tumor I allowed to thrive."
"Your smile remained a blade. As always."
She turned to face him.
"Why didn't you ever pay back the dosh I lent you three years ago?"
Corven looked away.
"I trusted court. Trusted her."
"And now?"
He met her gaze.
"Now I know who you are."
Kaelith offered a melancholic smile.
"Memories are no longer my specialty."
Corven stepped forward.
"But if this is the start of something new... then it's the right time."
She scrutinized him.
"You speak like someone offering me the throne."
"When I say not offering, I mean requesting," he replied. "The gold sentenced to the velvet pillow wants to grow some muscle. And you—frightful to enemies—are quite rare."
His cadaver-blue eyes flickered to the blood caked on her hand.
To the golden band slouched on the table—Theron's.
Her heart still burned.
"I'll think about it," she said.
Corven nodded.
Then added, as he stepped away, her voice barely audible—
"But I refuse to be used like some plastic figurine."
That evening, Kaelith returned to her manor.
A man stood alone, waiting among a rose-lined path of sculpted shrubs.
Inside the study, Theron poured two glasses of wine.
"To surviving betrayal," he said, raising his glass.
Kaelith raised hers.
"To using it as a weapon."
He grinned. "You could rule this kingdom."
She stared out into the distance.
A raven landed on the window and stared back at her.
"No," she said.
"I will."
Outside, the moon hung round and silver.
Bathed in liquid light, the bride to the villain finally embraced her new role.
Not a captive.
But the mistress.