Her mother wrote she’d wept with joy upon hearing news of Reiya’s betrothal, though there were concerns about leaving Aethonia while the situation with Castiel remained unresolved.
The investigation continued, but he’d vanished. No ships under Aethonia’s banners had carried him across the Issoirea Sea. No merchants, no envoys, no whispers in the courts of the nine kingdoms spoke of his return.
The Duke of Caerelle had responded swiftly, his official missive arriving in the royal court within days of the accusations.
‘My son is no traitor,’he had written.‘House Vaelmont has always stood beside Aethonia, as we have stood beside the nine kingdoms since their founding. This is a grave misunderstanding, one I trust will soon be resolved.’
He also pledged his full cooperation in the search.
Reiya wasn’t sure what to believe.
Had Castiel’s father truly been blindsided, and was only desperate to believe of his son’s innocence? Or was this simply a well-calculated move—a diplomatic gesture meant to satisfy scrutiny without conceding anything?
The duke was a master of politics. That was the Vaelmont legacy. A dynasty of Betas, their lineage hadn’t been blessed with any Alphas, yet they were one of the most powerful in the nine kingdoms—not by force or bloodlines, but by something far more frightening: influence.
For centuries, they had positioned themselves as the quiet arbiters of diplomacy, brokering peace, weaving alliances, ensuring the balance of power never tipped too far in any direction. Their ancestors’ faceswere immortalized on solaris coins—a constant, silent reminder of their place in history.
They never ruled. Yet no ruler ignored them.
‘The Vaelmonts are an old and powerful house,’her father had written.‘We cannot afford to make them our enemies without irrefutable proof.’
Reiya set the letter down with a sigh.
Even if Castiel was guilty, his family might be innocent. They’d fight tooth and nail to defend him. And even if they were involved, they’d never admit it. They’d never let their name bear the stain.
If Aethonia pressed too hard, it wouldn’t be Castiel or the Vaelmonts who suffered.
It would be her family.
And, sooner or later, the conflict would ripple out to her people.
Across from her, Lady Neda looked up from her embroidery, brows drawing together. “Unpleasant news from home, my dear? Not about your family’s visit, surely?”
Reiya ran her thumb along the parchment’s edge. “They’re hesitant to make the journey. There’s unrest over Castiel’s disappearance, and my father fears it unwise to leave the kingdom.”
Lady Neda’s expression softened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps the wedding can proceed, and you can return to Aethonia with Kaelen and Alarik to celebrate at a later date. That is often how royal marriages are handled.”
Reiya nodded, though her focus lingered on her embroidery. Only now did she notice the pattern she had stitched—Talharen knots, a symbol of safe passage on a long journey.
She nearly smiled, her worries momentarily lifting, replaced by thoughts of the Xians.
Did Xian Jun still wake at dawn to sharpen his knives? Did Mei Mei still chatter as she wove flowers into Su Lian’s hair? Had Ru Rong perfected her salve for joint pain?
She missed the quiet ease of their wagon—the warmth of shared meals by the fire, the nights beneath open skies, the way they had accepted her without question.
For a time, she’d simply been Yara, free of titles and expectations.
Now, surrounded by silk, stone, and the shadows of Castiel’s machinations, she longed for the freedom on the road once more.
She looked up when a young servant approached, bowing low before placing a small scroll wrapped in emerald silk on the stone table. Without a word, he withdrew.
Lady Neda paused mid-stitch, watching as Reiya brushed her fingers over the scroll. A familiar fragrance—roses, with a whisper of musk and frankincense—drifted from the silk binding.
Annaïs’s signature fragrance.
She untied the ribbon, scanning the elegant script before passing the letter to Lady Neda.
“Annaïs has invited me to walk the promenade to Luneth’s temple,” she said evenly. “To offer prayers.”
