In the royal solar, a cozy chamber high in the Silver Crown's central keep, Haven paced before his parents and Cedric, sunlight streaming through windows overlooking the sprawling gardens below. The room was warm, scented with fresh herbs from a hanging basket and the faint smoke of a dying fire in the hearth. King Thorne sat in a carved oak chair, his thorned crown set aside, his amber eyes watchful. Queen Evelyn perched on a cushioned bench, her silver silk robe flowing, her expression a blend of maternal concern and regal composure. Cedric stood near a table, his gray cloak draped over his arm, spectacles perched on his nose as he consulted a notebook, pages filled with notes from the Great Hall's performance.
"The performance showed their gifts," Haven said, his black tunic rumpled, his golden eyes shadowed with doubt. "Aria's winds were flawless, Riven's earth unyielding, Ember's fire told stories, even with that flare. But I don't know their hearts. Parading them before the court—it's all spectacle. I need to see who they are, beyond the elements, to choose a queen who unites the packs."
Thorne nodded, stroking his iron-gray beard. "The packs grow restless, Haven. Alliances hinge on your choice. You've narrowed it to thirteen—Mira, Lira, Veyra, Bree, Tilda, Coral, Sylva are gone. Who among the rest—Ember, Sara, Sable, Aria, Flow, Marina, Riven, Avani, Eldra, Liora, Brooke, Seris, Nerys holds the depth you seek?"
Haven stopped pacing, his voice earnest. "Ember's fire protects, like a tale woven in flame, but that flare hints at something deeper, maybe dangerous. Sara's weave is art, quiet but true—Cedric, you saw it too." Cedric flushed, adjusting his spectacles, his fondness for Sara hidden behind a nod. "Aria's poise captivates, but her ambition cuts. Riven's strength is a rock, but I sense a fire in her spirit. I need time, real moments walks, talks, away from the court's eyes—to know their souls."
Evelyn leaned forward, her voice soft. "Then make it so, my son. You're young, but your heart is wise. Take them in small groups, let their words reveal their truths. Gardens, orchards, archery, places where masks slip. The Old Spirits will guide you to a queen who binds the packs."
Cedric closed his notebook with a snap, his scholarly mind turning. "An excellent plan. I'll chaperone discreetly, ensuring propriety. Vera can accompany the girls, giving space for candor. Walks in the gardens, tea in the pavilion, brunch in the orchards, archery practice—these will show their hearts, not just their gifts. Ember's storytelling, Sara's artistry, Aria's charm such outings will test their resolve. A garden walk with Ember, Sara, and Aria could probe their contrasts."
Haven's eyes lit with relief. "Yes, gardens for stories, archery for focus. With you there, Cedric, I'll have a trusted ear. Ember's fire pulls at me, Sara's weave is pure, Aria's winds could steady a throne. But I need more than dazzle." He paused, his thoughts on Ember, her fire a draw he couldn't name, tempered by Kadyn's name on her lips, a shadow stirring unease he didn't voice. "What of the others Sable's boldness, Liora's grace, Marina's loyalty? I need to see if their hearts match their elements."
Thorne clasped Haven's shoulder, his voice firm. "Wise, but swift. The full moon is three weeks away, and the packs demand a choice. Announce the outings at breakfast, and let the Spirits guide your heart." Evelyn smiled, her eyes on Aria's potential. "Follow your instincts, Haven. A queen's heart will shine in quiet moments. Aria's poise charmed the court, but look deeper—strength like Ember's or Sara's may surprise you."
Cedric added, his tone measured, "The performance showed skill, but heart is harder to judge. Sable's fire is fierce, Riven's earth steady, Liora's water healing. Marina clings to Aria, but her vortex held promise. These outings will reveal who can stand beside you, Haven, as queen and partner." Haven nodded, his resolve firming, his thoughts lingering on Ember's fire, its pull undeniable yet shadowed by Kadyn's name.
The announcement came during a lavish breakfast in the sunlit dining hall, tables laden with breads, fruits, and herbal tea. Vera stood at the head as Haven entered with Cedric. "Ladies," Haven began, his voice steady and kind. "The performance narrowed our path, but to choose wisely, I must know you better. You'll join me in small groups for outings—walks, tea, brunch, archery. Cedric will chaperone, Vera nearby. This way, we can share stories, see beyond the court's formality."
Murmurs rippled through the thirteen, excitement and nerves mingling. Aria gleamed with ambition, her sapphire tunic shimmering, while Flow whispered, "You're the prince's choice, Aria," echoing the eliminated Veyra and Bree's voices. Riven nodded approvingly, Liora smiled gracefully, Sable grinned, and Sara glanced at me with gratitude. I, Ember, felt a twist in my gut, misreading Haven's kindness to Sara as preference, my pendant pulsing as Kadyn's words—"You're pack, Em"—urged me to stay strong.
The first group was announced: Ember, Sara, Aria for a walk in the gardens that afternoon. Vera nodded, noting the tensions. "Prepare accordingly. The prince seeks authenticity."
The gardens of the Silver Crown were a marvel, terraced paths winding through manicured hedges, blooming with luminous flowers pulsing with Old Spirits' magic. Fountains sang in alcoves, their water rippling as if alive, and stone benches overlooked mountain vistas. As the sun climbed, Haven led us along a gravel path, his black tunic fitted for ease, his golden eyes kind but searching. Cedric trailed discreetly, his gray cloak fluttering, while Vera followed further, her presence a quiet anchor. A faint breeze stirred my hair, unbidden, as if the air answered me, my pendant warming—why did wind feel like mine?
Haven gestured to a bench by a fountain, its water shimmering like liquid starlight. "Tell me of your packs," he said, his voice warm. "What shapes your hearts?" Aria spoke first, her blue silks billowing, her charm polished. "In the northern tundras, Aero Claw winds taught me freedom, guiding gales through cliffside dens. My heart dances with the air, ready to carry your banners, Your Highness." Flow, nearby, nodded fervently, "Aria's winds are unmatched—she's the queen you need." Haven smiled politely, but his eyes drifted to Sara, whose orange tunic glowed softly.
Sara stammered, her shy voice barely rising. "Flame Fang weaves… they're inspired by baskets my mother taught me in Scorchvale Ridge. Simple, but strong." Her fingers twisted, nervous, but Haven's gaze softened. "Strength in simplicity is rare, Sara," he said, his kindness drawing a flush to her cheeks. I felt a pang, misreading it as preference, my pendant pulsing hotter. The fountain's water rippled faintly, as if echoing my unease, a pull I couldn't name—why did water call to me?
When Haven turned to me, his eyes locked on mine, a spark stirring. "And you, Ember? What fuels your fire?" I hesitated, Kadyn's words steadying me. "Scorchvale Ridge taught me loyalty, Your Highness. My flames weave tales of the Moon rite, of pack and protection, like my mother, Seina, whose healing hands saved so many." My voice caught, a whisper of sacrifice in her legacy, as if her light burned too bright to endure. Haven's gaze darkened briefly, a shadow I couldn't read, as when I'd spoken of Kadyn before. A stone beneath my foot hummed, as if the earth responded, my fingers tingling. How could Earth feel like mine?
Emboldened, I leaned forward, my voice soft but steady. "Your Highness, you've asked about us, but I'd like to know you not just the prince, but the man. What shapes your heart?" Haven's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise giving way to a warm smile, impressed by my candor. "A bold question, Ember," he said, his tone thoughtful. "I'm shaped by the shadows of these mountains, by dreams of uniting the packs not through power, but trust. I climb the peaks alone sometimes, to feel the Spirits' whisper, to find clarity beyond the crown." His openness stirred me, a connection deeper than titles, my pendant pulsing as if the Spirits approved.
Aria interjected, her laugh sharp, "Loyalty's quaint, but winds lift higher." Flow words echoed, "Aria's the crown's choice," her loyalty echoing Veyra and Bree's. Haven's attention lingered on me, a subtle connection forming, but the elements' pull, wind, water, and earth haunted me, a fascination I couldn't grasp, as if the Old Spirits whispered secrets, shadowed by a past of strength and fear.
As the walk ended, Vera approached, her gray wool dress stark, her silver wolf pin catching the light. "Time to return, ladies," she said, her voice firm but kind, her cat-like grace stirring that familiar question Did she see my secrets? Haven stepped forward, his golden eyes meeting each of ours in turn. "Aria," he said, his tone polite, "your winds carry a grace that lights the court. Thank you for sharing your story." Aria curtsied, her smirk confident.
Haven turned to Sara, his voice softer. "Sara, your weaves tell tales of quiet strength. I look forward to knowing you better." Sara flushed, her eyes wide, and I hid a pang, my heart twisting. Finally, Haven faced me, his gaze intense, a spark flickering. "Ember, your fire weaves loyalty like a song, and your question… it challenges me. Stay true to it." His words lingered, the shadow of Kadyn's name unspoken but heavy. I nodded, my pendant warm, my breath catching.
Vera led us back to the chambers, the gardens fading behind us, the air heavy with unspoken tensions. Aria's stride was triumphant, while Sara walked close to me, her gratitude silent. The elements' pull, wind, water, and earth still haunted me, a destiny shadowed by secrets, as if the Old Spirits watched, weaving a path I couldn't yet see.