As the rune unfurled in a widening circle, light coiled like living thread, wrapping around Aveline's wrist and searing a matching band into place on Kael's. The markings shimmered—silver edged in ember-red—before dimming to a faint, steady glow.
The magic did not fade as it usually did. Instead, it sank beneath their skin, unseen by the crowd yet leaving behind a sigil that only they could feel.
Aveline's breath caught. Beneath her gown, directly over her sternum, a sharp burn bloomed—searing, yet strangely… alive.
Kael stiffened, jaw tightening. Beneath his clothes, the same heat spread over his chest like a maek from branding fire. No one else seemed aware, not even those closest to them, but the sensation was undeniable—a tether drawn taut between them.
From across the dais, Alaric Vellore's eyes widened—just for a heartbeat—as he watched the rune arc toward the imperial dais… only to strike Kael. His composure returned in an instant, but the flicker of surprise lingered in his mind.
He had expected spectacle—Aveline's choice of the Fate Rune over the safer crystal method was bound to stir the hall—but this was an anomaly. A direct strike to a man who had not even stepped into the circle.
His gaze moved from Aveline's stunned face to Kael's unreadable one, lingering a fraction too long on the way Kael's hand hovered over his chest.
When his sister's eyes finally met his, Alaric gave the faintest nod. Not approval—yet. But acknowledgment. A silent promise they would speak soon.
And as he looked at her, a recent memory returned: the letter he had sent only days before, urging her to trust her instincts. Now he wondered if he should have written something else—something plainer. The Fate Rune sometimes chose paths laid long before any of them were born.
The Rune Keeper's voice rang out over the murmurs. "An anomaly," he declared, eyes narrowing on the bands. "The magic chose… without a request for pairing. Such a thing has not occurred in generations."
He stepped forward to examine the lines of their bindings, his gaze flicking briefly to the Emperor's dais, as though seeking unspoken leave to continue. But the Emperor's eyes were already fixed on Kael, sharp with unreadable intent.
The courtiers whispered furiously, yet none noticed how, in the same heartbeat, Aveline's and Kael's hands brushed the same spot over their hearts—quick, instinctive.
"A rare alignment," the Keeper announced, raising his hands to frame the glowing bands. "The Fate Rune sometimes acts with urgency. It is said that when destiny's weave has been long delayed, it seals the bond the instant it is found."
A ripple of fascination swept through the nobles. The explanation was exotic enough to satisfy curiosity without opening the door to too many questions.
"As custom demands," he continued, "the formal rites will still take place in due time. But the rune has chosen to acknowledge the bond immediately."
Lowering his hands, he stepped closer to the pair under the guise of blessing the match. Up close, his eyes sharpened—not with ceremony, but with understanding.
The rest of the ceremony passed smoothly. A few matches followed—some met with polite nods, others with visible relief—but the earlier anomaly still hung in the air, coiling through whispered speculation.
Kael and Aveline remained at opposite ends of the room, yet neither could escape the faint, pulsing awareness beneath their ribs. The glow on their wrists slowly faded, leaving only a mark that no one else could see—an invisible presence that flared if they focused on it.
When the last rune dimmed, ceremonial music swelled. The Emperor rose to give the closing benediction.
"Today, the bonds of our realm grow stronger. Let these unions stand as pillars for peace, for prosperity, and for the future of our Empire."
Polite applause rippled through the hall. Attendants moved among the guests, announcing the transition to the banquet.
Nobles clustered together in animated conversation, each retelling the day's most striking moments. For many, the highlight remained the Vellore girl and the shadowed prince—bound by ancient magic no one had expected.
At the far edge of the room, the Rune Keeper lingered for only a moment, his gaze sweeping over Kael and Aveline, before slipping into the shadows behind the ceremonial hall.
The banquet hall glowed with warm candlelight, the air rich with the aromas of spiced meat from magical beasts, honeyed tea, and roasted chestnuts. Long tables gleamed with polished silver, and soft strings drifted from the gallery above, weaving through the murmur of noble voices.
Kael kept to the far end of the hall, posture straight yet deliberately apart from the eager clusters of lords and ladies. He drew glances on his wrist as he made his way to the door.
More than once, he caught a lingering glance at the faint gleam of the band on his wrist before he pulled his sleeve down.
Near the head of the banquet table, the Emperor dined with the Empress and senior ministers. When the toasts were complete, he rose and crossed the hall with the deliberate tread of a man who drew every gaze without demanding it.
"Kael," he said quietly, his voice pitched to keep the moment private despite the curious ears nearby. "It would please me if you remained in the palace for a time."
Kael's brow shifted, the barest flicker of surprise. "Your Majesty?"
"A change of pace. And perhaps"—the Emperor's gaze flickered toward Aveline, just for a heartbeat—"a chance to… adjust to recent developments."
It was not a request. The weight of command lay beneath the words, tempered by something quieter, almost personal.
After a pause, Kael inclined his head. "As you wish."
The Emperor's hand rested briefly on his shoulder—a gesture both public and calculated—before he returned to the high table.
Around them, the music swelled and the banquet continued, but Kael could feel the shift in the air: the watchful eyes, the whispers gathering like storm clouds, and the quiet certainty that his presence in the palace would be far more than a formality.