Yara's POV
The citadel of Eirathen does not sleep. The ice hums as if the city itself is awake, like a literal translation of the walls have ears. Mira walks carefully beside me. She wraps her arms around herself in the cold.
"Do not wander alone," she warns, keeping up with my hurrying pace. "Not yet. Immortals watch even when they seem absent."
I look around and note how the ice constantly hums.
"I've noticed," I reply. I can feel it.
Every entrance, every icicle, every wall feels like an eye. Even my reflection in the ice seems to be watching.
Mira leads me to my chambers, a suite carved from ice and precious stones. The furniture is elegant in a way that says, DO NOT TOUCH. Even the bed looks like it isn't meant for sleeping. It seems like it's meant for some sort of ceremony.
"This was prepared for you," Mira says softly. "For… for the duration of your stay."
Even Mira knows I may not be alive for long.
"And Vaelor?" I ask.
Mira hesitates before responding cautiously. "The Lord Draven keeps his own chambers. Immortal law forbids… certain expectations."
I nod. I am not really surprised. In fact, I am supposed to be relieved. Instead i feel a bit... disappointed.
Mira helps me remove my ceremonial cloak; her hands are warm.
"You did well today," she says. "They expected you to fold." I can literally feel her pride.
"I'm still standing," I reply.
"Yes," she smiles. "That's what frightens them."
When she leaves, escorted by a silent Immortal Enforcer, Thalos Orin, I sit alone, missing home.
But I am not alone. The temperature has shifted again. There is a cold emanating from behind.
I turn slowly, heart pounding, and there he is.
Vaelor stands near the wall, his silver hair loose down his back. I wonder how he entered, but my heart has better things to consider. I'm sure he can hear my heartbeat from there.
"You were not escorted here," I say, trying to calm my voice.
"No," he replies calmly as always. "I was not."
Does he not feel the way I feel? How is his voice always so even?
His gaze assesses the room once, then settles on me.
"This chamber is warded," he continues. "No councilor may enter. Non enforcer. No magic listens here unless summoned."
My pulse quickens and then skips. I hear his voice and struggle to respond. I honestly wish his mouth were being put to better use.
"And yet," I say carefully, "you're here."
"Yes."
Silence hangs in the air. Just like the laws mentioned during the ceremony. No intimacy, no attachment.
But Vaelor is just standing here and not breaking any laws.
And yet my heart and the ice respond to his presence.
"You spoke out of turn today," he says at last.
"I spoke truthfully."
"That is rarely the same thing in Eirathen."
I meet his gaze. "I didn't come here to be palatable."
Something flickers in his eyes; he is baffled, intrigued.
He steps closer, and the air feels still, colder. He doesn't get too close to me, though. He is at a safe distance, but I can still feel the cold from his body.
"You do not react as mortals should," he says quietly. "Most grow weak here. Smaller. You seem to… expand."
"I've been told warmth can be disruptive," I reply.
He looks straight at me. "You are not warm."
I raise an eyebrow.
"You are… grounding," he corrects after a pause. "My power has not behaved this way in centuries."
He takes another step towards me.
I take a step back on instinct.
Vaelor freezes.
"I will not harm you," he says immediately, his voice assuring. "Nor will I violate the law."
"I didn't think you would," I say softly.
That seems to rile him up.
He looks at my hand and slowly reaches out. But he doesn't touch me. He stops.
"If I touch you," he says, voice low, "the council will feel it."
"Then don't," I whisper.
His fingers brush mine slightly.
It can't even be considered a touch. But the whole place reacts immediately. The ice hums loudly, the walls shake gently. He retreats his hand as though he has been burnt.
He stares at me, almost in awe. "What are you?"
I swallow. "I am a mortal."
"No," he says, "You're something more."
Footsteps approach faintly outside the door. I can sense it. Thalos's presence outside the door. Lyara afar off but surely listening. I can even feel Seren, Vaelor's cousin. The Immortal world is listening, watching.
Vaelor straightens, snapping back into his stoic form. The cold returns, still sure and sharp, but it is not as cold, not as sharp, not as absolute as before.
"This cannot happen again," he says, and I wonder if he is talking to me or just correcting himself.
I meet his eyes, telling my racing heart to calm down and be still. "It already has," I whisper quietly.
For a long while, he says nothing. Then he bows his head slightly, respectfully.
"Rest," he says. "Tomorrow, Eirathen will test you."
"And you?" I ask before he can leave.
He pauses at the door, and I can not help but be amazed at his silver hair.
"Tonight, I will struggle to sleep," he says quietly.
Then he is gone, and I almost miss him.
The ice around me is quiet now, steadier, and I can feel it; something forbidden has awakened.
And deep within, I know for sure;
I am no longer just a guest.
I am a variable.
And Vaelor Draven has felt it too.
I lie down on my extravagant bed and close my eyes. Soon, I am asleep, dreaming of a mortal Vaelor with me, his arms wrapped around me while we sleep. It was a beautiful feeling, but when I opened my eyes to look at my lover, I saw my papa's face instead. He smiled at me and said, "Be careful, Yara, the immortals are out to get you."
I turned away from him, and my mama was on the other side. "Respect your husband. Be quieter," she whispered.
I screamed, and I was suddenly awoken from my nightmare. I felt the cold spike up, and I knew just then that he was right there with me.
Vaelor.