Chapter 91 – Horizons
The council chamber was alive with voices when Kael entered, his helm tucked under his arm. The great stone table was strewn with parchments, ledgers, and crates of coin from the first completed trade haul. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting bright patches across the assembled leaders.
Fenrik, arms folded, was the first to speak. "The caravan returned three days early. Profitable—more than I'd dared to hope. Timber, ore, herbs, pelts—all in high demand. We brought back coin, tools, cloth, even livestock." His bearded face broke into a rare smile. "It seems the Hollow's name is beginning to spread."
A ripple of approval moved through the chamber, but Thalos leaned forward, his voice graver. "Profits or no, our weakness remains. We lack soldiers. Our borders grow longer each day, our people more numerous. A single strong raid could undo all this good fortune."
Kael rested his hands on the stone table. "I agree. Magical constructs buy us time, but they are not flesh and blood. They cannot man watchtowers or patrol the wilds. We need men and women willing to stand guard, not just shadows."
Murmurs of agreement filled the hall. Lyria, seated at Kael's right, added, "Perhaps we should make soldiering more attractive. Offer fair pay, land, or rights for those who serve."
Fenrik snorted. "Aye, coin talks, but coin runs out. Still, it's better than leaving our walls bare."
Kael lifted a hand, silencing the rising voices. "We will expand recruitment when the snows end. Until then, patrols must be doubled, and my magic will fill the gaps." His gaze swept the table. "I will not let Ebon Hollow fall because we left ourselves unguarded."
The council bowed their heads in assent, the decision made.
The rest of the day, Kael did not sit upon a throne or linger in halls of stone. Instead, he walked the Hollow with Druaka and Lyria at his side.
They hauled timber to the builders raising new houses on the northern edge, their hands rough with labor despite their lofty titles. They stood with the farmers in the thawing fields, Kael admiring the first green shoots piercing through the dark earth. Children followed him, tugging at his cloak, laughing when he conjured tiny creatures of chaos to chase them through the mud.
It was a day of work and grounding, of simple closeness with his people. And it was during one such moment—when Kael had paused to help mend a cart axle—that he overheard Druaka's voice behind him.
She was speaking to Lyria.
"You know," Druaka said, her tone teasing yet rich with memory, "he's different when it's just the two of us. Less king, more… raw. Primal."
Kael froze, heat crawling up the back of his neck.
Lyria's reply was quieter, but still sharp. "You mean reckless."
"No," Druaka chuckled, bold and unashamed. "I mean alive. You're too stiff with him sometimes. Careful. Afraid to lose control. But when it's wild…" Her voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "It's better. He's better."
Kael's grip tightened on the cart's frame, the wood creaking under his hand.
Lyria didn't answer right away. When she did, her voice held a reluctant edge. "Perhaps. But not everything should be wild."
"That's why," Druaka said smoothly, "you should join us. Next time."
The words struck Kael like a hammer blow. His heart stuttered, his thoughts scattered. He dared not turn around.
"Join you?" Lyria repeated, incredulous.
"Yes." Druaka's tone was light, teasing, but there was truth behind it. "Think of it. No walls between us. No hesitance. You'd learn something of yourself, Lyria. You'd see what he can be when you stop trying to hold him so tightly."
Silence stretched, thick and taut. Kael almost spun to break it, but Lyria's answer came, hesitant and fragile.
"I… I don't know."
Druaka laughed softly, not mocking but bold. "Then think on it. We're stronger together, the three of us. Not rivals. Not half-claims. Together."
Kael forced himself to breathe evenly as he tightened the last bolt in the cart's axle. His mind swirled with too many thoughts—about Druaka's fearlessness, about Lyria's hesitation, about his own place between them. He wasn't sure if he was frightened or relieved that the two women who held his heart were now speaking so openly of things he barely dared to think.
When he finally stood and turned, the two were walking ahead of him, Druaka's confident stride beside Lyria's more graceful steps. For a fleeting moment, they looked like balance itself—wild and refined, fire and steel.
And Kael, caught between, could only wonder if this was the beginning of something new… or a path too dangerous to tread.