The murmurs in the Hall of Balance dimmed to an uneasy hush. The council had withdrawn into quiet deliberation, voices low, gestures sharp, weighing the fate of two great houses. Then the great doors swung inward.
She entered as though the place belonged to her.
Lady Mowenna Winterbourne...Dowager Queen of Aiseryn.....glided forward with a bearing that silenced the hall without a single word.
The click of her boots against marble was steady, deliberate, each step steeped in the authority of someone who had long ruled in more than name.
Her gown was the deep blue of winter seas, the heavy silks trimmed with white fox fur, and her silver hair....neatly coiled....caught the torchlight like fresh frost.
She did not pause to bow or exchange pleasantries; she crossed directly to where her son sat and sat herself beside him. Her gloved hands rested in her lap, every movement measured.
Her pale eyes swept the chamber and settled on the Flameborne delegation. On Aurelia.
The faint tightening at the corner of her mouth betrayed the thought behind that look....here, before her, sat the girl she deemed the ruin of her precious son.
The head of council, Serathis Durn, cleared his throat.
"My lady Mowenna, you arrive a day late to these proceedings, but nonetheless, the council welcomes you."
"Thank you, Elder," she replied, her tone smooth, unhurried. "An urgent matter detained me, else I would have been here sooner."
Serathis inclined his head. "Do you have anything to add before judgment is rendered?"
"As a matter of fact, I do."
Mowenna rose with the languid grace of a hunting cat that knew no fear of its prey. She did not face Lord Azarion Flameborne, but turned instead to address the full council.
"My lords, my ladies," she began, her voice cool as moonlight on ice. "We do not stand here as enemies of Ashmere, but as a house unwilling to bind itself in chains disguised as vows."
Her gaze flickered briefly toward Aurelia, a glance as sharp as a knife's edge.
"She is cursed," Mowenna said. "Once she was the jewel of the realm....fairest among all. But beauty rots swiftly under certain shadows. You see her now." She gestured, an elegant sweep of her hand toward Aurelia, though she kept her voice measured, her words deliberate. "This is not insult. This is truth."
A ripple of whispers spread like wind through dry grass. Calista's lips curled into a knowing smirk. Beside Azarion, Aldric's jaw set tight, though he held his tongue.
Azarion's fingers gripped the carved armrest of his seat, but he did not speak.
"Marriage," Mowenna continued, "is not merely politics. It is legacy. To bind Frostmere to one burdened with such a darkness is to invite ruin into our bloodline. I will not do it, not even in the name of peace."
Now she turned her eyes on Azarion.
"You speak of alliances and honor, lord Flameborne. I speak of survival. And no threat of war will tempt me to gamble the fate of my house on a bride who carries such dark curse in her flesh."
The hall seemed to tighten around her words, the torches flickering in the sudden stillness. The councilors exchanged glances, some nodding faintly, others shifting with unease.
"And besides," she said, "the oath was made by my late husband. As far as I am concerned, it died with him."
Azarion's reply was quick, his voice low but thunderous in its restraint.
"Your husband may be gone, Lady Mowenna, but I live still. It was with him I struck that bargain...an oath sealed in fire and ice....that your son, seated there beside you, would wed my daughter. Your son accepted. It was bound. And now you claim it should vanish with his death?"
"Like I said before, Lord Flameborne," Mowenna answered dryly, "the promise was made for Aurelia the most Beautiful in all the five nations.
She is no longer what she was. She is cursed, deformed, her fire quenched. Of what use is she to us now?" She tilted her head slightly, the faintest mockery in the gesture.
Azarion's voice was iron. "We are not here to entertain rumors and superstition. The strength of our realm rests on alliances that outlast fear."
Mowenna's eyes glinted. "Do you deny she was cursed during the siege of Ashmere? Do you deny the change in her?"
Silence. Azarion could not lie; the truth was plain to see in Aurelia's altered form.
Aurelia sat still, her back straight, but she couldn't deny those words hurt her. She was expecting this insult will be thrown at her. But it still hurts hearing it.
Gwen. ..loyal as ever.....reached over and gave her hand a quiet squeeze.
"Unity," Mowenna pressed on, "must be built on truth, not fragile convenience. I will not endanger my house on whispers and shadows."
Aurelia lifted her head, meeting Mowenna's gaze. Her voice, when it came, was soft but clear, carrying through the hall.
"And what of my future, my lady? Am I to be cast aside, judged not for my deeds, but for fears of what I have become?"
The question hung in the air. Even some councilors shifted uncomfortably. Neris, seated beside his mother, hesitated....uncertainty flashed across his features....but he kept his silence.
"Your future, Lady Aurelia," Mowenna said, "is not mine to decide. But I will not bind my son's fate to yours under such a curse. Who can say it would not pass to his children....if he could stomach bedding you at all?"
A few in the gallery laughed at that. Others muttered behind their hands. And Aurelia who wasn't expecting that, died inside.
From the upper tier of the hall, Vaelric...small, bright-eyed, and far too young to grasp politics, yet old enough to understand cruelty....watched it all unfold.
He had been seated with his father's companions, Kaelen, Therion, and Rael, who had been tasked with keeping him out of trouble.
But when Mowenna's words landed like stones in a still pond, Vaelric's little fists clenched.
Kaelen's hand darted to stop him, but the boy slipped away with the nimbleness only a seven-year-old could manage, weaving through robes and boots until he reached the dais where his father sat with the other lords.
Valerian turned, surprise flickering across his face as his son tugged at his sleeve and leaned close.
"Father," Vaelric whispered, "remember the oath you swore to me...in Vireon's name?"
Valerian's eyes narrowed slightly. "I remember."
"Then fulfil it now," Vaelric said, his voice trembling not with fear, but with determination far too large for his small frame.
"I want you ....to marry Lady Aurelia.... Now."