“He won’t walk free,” she said quietly, then met the king’s eyes across the table. “My father won’t let that happen. But perhaps Asadia can send representatives—make it a joint trial. That way, your kingdom’s voice is heard without rejecting the duke outright.”
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but compromise never was. If it meant preserving peace—between two kingdoms, between two halves of her life—and ensuring her people’s lives wouldn’t be in the crossfire, it was worth offering.
The king studied her for a long moment before nodding slightly. “A wise proposal, daughter.”
His gaze flicked to his sons, as if silently asking for their approvals.
Kaelen’s jaw tensed, but after a pause, he exhaled slowly. “If this must be done, then I agree.” Beneath the table, his hand found Reiya’s, curling gently around hers.
With wry humour, he added, “I suppose torturing Castiel for information is out of the question, then?”
No one laughed, though Lady Neda looked at him with a mild smile. “I don’t think the duke will appreciate that, Kaelendrin.”
Alarik was silent at first, but eventually, his grip on his cup loosened. “I don’t like it,” he admitted. “But I trust Reiya’s judgment.”
The king leaned back slightly, the weight in the room lifting just a fraction.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll send a delegation to oversee the trial,” he said, his words not just an acceptance, but an approval. “I’ll have Marzius arrange Castiel’s transport.”
For a moment, Reiya remained still, the quiet murmur of conversation fading to a distant hum. The tight knot in her chest eased—notundone, but loosened just enough to let her draw breath without it catching.
Was this the right choice? She didn’t know. Maybe none of them would, not until it was too late to turn back.
Her gaze drifted to Kaelen, then to Alarik—their eyes steady on hers, their trust offered without condition. A faint ache stirred in her chest, sharp and soft all at once.
Even as they sat there, troubles were brewing in the horizon. Whatever came, the road ahead would not be easy.
But she knew, as they’d sworn to each other before Luneth’s altar, they’d never walk it alone.
Chapter Sixty-One
REIYANA
The following days had passed in a haze—peaceful, but not restful. Decisions had been made, the course set, yet the weight of it lingered in Reiya’s chest, pressing soft and constant like a bruise beneath her ribs.
She’d told herself it would ease once Castiel was gone.
For two weeks, he remained a political prisoner in Turasid’s dungeon—confined, but granted the respect due to a duke’s son awaiting trial. His presence was a thorn in Kaelen’s and Alarik’s side, especially with Hassamir still at large, but they honoured their word to the Aethonian Crown and returned him unscathed.
Today, finally, he was going.
From her place atop the cliffs, she could see the desert stretched out before her, bathed in the pale gold of early dawn. She stood between Kaelen and Alarik, the cool hush of morning brushing their skin. Below, a thin line of soldiers cut across the sands, their long shadows dark against the earth. At the centre, the enclosed cart rolled forward, wheels lifting faint clouds of dust as it carried Castiel toward the border—and whatever waited beyond it.
The wind tugged at Reiya’s cloak, teasing strands of hair loose fromher braid. Her fingers slipped into the folds of fabric, brushing against the cool weight of the wing-shaped pendant.
Once, she’d clung to it like a lifeline.
A symbol of escape. A girl’s desperate dream of freedom.
She lifted the crystal into the light, watching as it flickered—its gleam softer now, less a beacon than a memory.
She’d offered it to the Xians before they left, but Su Lian only smiled, shaking her head.
‘What’s done is done, Yara,’she had said, brushing a warm hand over Reiya’s cheek.‘You don’t need to give us this to be remembered. And we don’t need to keep it to know who you are.’
Some things belonged to the past.
And this—this was a relic from a life she no longer claimed.
