The proposal arrived wrapped in silk and threat.
A golden envoy entered Dravenfall under banners of truce — the Sigil Court of Valyrr, a neutral power favored by heaven and feared by mortals. Behind him trailed priests, scribes, and a single veiled woman whose presence made the serpent hiss low in Kael's chest.
They were smiling when they bowed.
"Warlord Kael," the envoy said smoothly, "the Court offers alliance sealed by blood and vow. Our Lady Seris will bind herself to you in marriage."
The courtyard went silent.
Elira felt it like a knife sliding between her ribs.
"Refused," Kael said instantly.
The envoy's smile did not falter. "You have not heard the terms."
"I don't need to."
"You do," the man replied gently, then turned—too gently—toward Elira. "The Court will recognize her as protected property under sacred law. Untouchable by heaven. Untouchable by gods."
Elira's breath hitched.
The envoy continued, voice honeyed. "But only if she is not the primary bond."
The words landed like a curse.
Kael stepped forward, shadow rising. "Say that again."
"If you wed Lady Seris," the envoy said, unflinching, "the Firmament will be forced to stand down. Your… companion will live."
Companion.
Elira's light flickered — not rage this time.
Fear.
Because she felt the truth behind the offer.
Heaven wasn't bargaining.
It was testing leverage.
"I won't be traded," Elira said softly.
"That is not your choice," the veiled woman finally spoke, lifting her gaze. Her eyes were ancient, knowing. "It is his."
The serpent recoiled violently.
> She is a key.
Kael felt the warning slam through him.
"What does that mean?" he growled.
The serpent hesitated.
For the first time.
> If you accept another vow…
The bond will retaliate.
Elira turned sharply. "Retaliate how?"
Silence thickened.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Tell us."
The serpent's voice lowered, stripped bare.
> The bond was never meant to share.
It will fracture.
And to survive… it will consume.
Elira went cold.
"Consume what?"
> Me.
Her divinity.
His shadow.
One of you will not remain whole.
The envoy sensed blood in the water.
"You see?" he said quietly. "Marriage preserves the world."
Kael turned on him.
"There is no world," he said, voice shaking with restrained violence, "where I choose a crown over her."
Elira grabbed his arm.
"Kael—"
He looked at her then, really looked — felt the bond tightening, reacting, fearing abandonment even as it burned with devotion.
"I won't cage you to save myself," he said. "Not again."
Her eyes shone — not with light.
With tears.
The veiled woman stepped forward. "You misunderstand. This is not about love. It's about survival."
Kael drew his blade halfway from its sheath.
"And that's where you die."
The envoy raised a hand quickly. "Think carefully, Warlord. Heaven is listening."
Elira closed her eyes.
When she opened them, her voice was steady.
"Tell heaven," she said, "that if they force him to choose—"
She laced her fingers with Kael's.
"They will learn what happens when a star chooses for herself."
The air thrummed — the bond flaring, warning, aching.
The veiled woman stiffened.
"Interesting," she murmured. "So you do remember how to threaten gods."
Kael didn't wait.
"Leave," he snarled. "Before I forget the meaning of mercy."
The envoys withdrew — slowly, carefully — promises and ultimatums left hanging like poison in the air.
When they were gone, the courtyard exhaled.
Elira sagged.
Kael caught her.
"I hate that they can use me against you," she whispered.
He pressed his forehead to hers, hands firm, grounding.
"They can't," he said. "Not unless we let them."
The serpent coiled tight — protective, fearful.
The next offer will be worse.
Elira nodded slowly.
"Then we stop waiting for them to make it."
Above Dravenfall, the impossible star pulsed once — not pleading.
Daring heaven to try again.