Chapter 45

Elouera

The cold morning mist crept through the stone windowsills of my bedroom. The air smelled of muddy river water, burnt wood, and old blood.

I stood in the middle of the room, my fingers shaking as I pushed a heavy brass pin through the collar of my high-necked tunic. The stiff fabric rubbed against the fresh skin on the side of my neck, sending a strange tingling feeling down my spine.

Beneath the linen covering my neck, the two bite marks left by Jace’s fangs still throbbed with a steady warmth. They were a reminder of the bond between us, an unbreakable connection that linked my heartbeat to his.

I had returned to the royal quarters through the narrow servants’ passages while the palace was still dealing with the disaster at the Gala. My hair was damp, and I had washed the mud from my skin. I had also covered my face with pale powder to make myself look like the weak, sickly prince everyone expected to see.

Outside, the palace was full of chaos.

I could hear soldiers marching across the stone courtyards, Vanguard captains shouting orders as they searched the outer walls, and noble families rushing to leave the capital before the gates were closed.

I turned toward the mirror on my dressing table.

The pale, ghost-like boy staring back at me looked small, weak, and completely harmless.

No one would ever guess that beneath my thick clothes, an ancient golden power was alive in my blood.

No one would guess that the Vanguard Commander himself had marked me as his mate in the middle of a bloody disaster.

Then I heard a familiar sound coming from the hallway.

Click. Drag. Click.

The brass tip of a mechanical cane struck the polished marble floor with a slow, steady rhythm.

The sound sent chills down my spine.

My heart began to pound. I slowly turned around, lowered my hands to my sides, and bent my back slightly, returning to the weak and helpless posture Prince Elian was known for.

The heavy mahogany door swung open without a knock.

Archduke Holden walked into the room.

He wore his formal dark coat, which looked perfectly clean and untouched despite the chaos of the previous night. His dark eyes moved across my quiet bedroom, carefully examining everything around him like a hawk searching an empty field.

He looked calm and collected, like a concerned uncle who had come to check on his sick nephew after the terrible events at the palace.

Then his eyes settled directly on me.

For one brief moment, so short that most people would never have noticed, Holden suddenly stopped walking.

Something about seeing me had caught him off guard.

Holden’s dark eyes widened. For the first time, his calm expression broke, revealing his shock. He stared at me as I stood on my own two feet, dressed in my royal clothes and breathing normally, without a single visible injury.

He had expected to find me dead. He had expected to hear that the Alphas had torn me apart in the maze, that the Empress’s guards had executed me, or that I had burned to ashes in the blackthorn fire he had started himself.

“Elian,” Holden said softly, quickly hiding his surprise behind his usual calm expression. “My dear boy. You’re awake.”

He leaned on his brass cane and walked closer, his sharp eyes studying every part of my body.

“Uncle,” I replied weakly, making my voice sound rough and breathless. I lowered my eyes and forced my shoulders to tremble slightly. “The noise… the trumpets woke me up. I heard guards running through the hallway. Did something happen at the Gala?”

Holden stopped a few feet away from me.

His coat carried the sharp smell of sulfur and old leather. He tilted his head, staring at the high collar of my tunic as if he expected to find something hidden beneath it. He was looking for a tear in my clothes, a stain of mud, or even the faintest trace of the substance he had forced into my lungs hours earlier.

But he couldn’t smell the wild honey.

He couldn’t smell the rain.

Jace’s coat, his bite, and his strong scent of cedar and dark earth had completely covered my natural scent. They had also calmed my dangerous heat, making it seem as though nothing had happened.

To Holden, I smelled like nothing more than clean linen and old paper.

“You don’t remember what happened?” Holden asked gently.

He stepped a little closer, his eyes moving down to the pulse in my throat.

“You left your room before Commander Jace arrived to escort you. The Empress was quite… unhappy about your absence from the main platform.”

“I… I felt dizzy, Uncle,” I lied, allowing my voice to shake as though I barely had the strength to speak.

I pressed a hand against my forehead and made my knees tremble slightly.

“The room was too hot before I left. My chest felt tight, so I went to the side gardens to get some fresh air. But it was dark, and I lost my footing. I think I fell near the old fountain.”

I paused, pretending to struggle with the memory.

“When I woke up, the rain had stopped. I managed to make my way back here before dawn.”

Holden stared at me in complete silence.

The silence in the room grew longer and more uncomfortable. I could tell Holden was struggling to understand how I had survived. The dangerous substance he had released into the air should have triggered a violent reaction in me and destroyed the entire court. Yet I was standing right in front of him, looking perfectly fine.

“You collapsed near the garden fountain,” Holden repeated. His voice sounded calm, but something about it made me uneasy.

“Yes,” I whispered, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. I tried to look frightened and confused. “Was there… was there a fire? I thought I smelled smoke while I was sleeping.”

Holden’s jaw tightened, and a muscle twitched in his pale cheek. Slowly, he raised his heavy, leather-gloved hand and placed it on my shoulder.

At first, his touch seemed gentle, but then his fingers tightened. He wasn’t trying to comfort me. He was pressing against my shoulder as if he wanted to examine me and make sure nothing was wrong.

“The palace was attacked by a wild, uncontrollable stray, Elian,” he whispered, leaning closer to my face. His eyes searched mine, looking for any sign of the golden Sunfall power he had seen in Jace’s tower.

“Four lords were killed in the maze. Crown Prince Callan has completely lost control. He’s tearing apart the lower levels of the palace, searching for traitors. Last night was a complete disaster.”

“How terrible,” I replied softly.

My heart was pounding so hard that I feared he might feel it through his glove.

“Yes,” Holden murmured.

His fingers pressed a little harder into my shoulder before he finally let go. He straightened the collar of his dark coat, and his cold smile returned.

“It was a terrible night indeed. But we must carry on, little bird. The Empress has called an emergency meeting of the High Council for noon. She intends to announce a new line of succession.”

He turned toward the heavy mahogany door and took two slow steps, the metal tip of his cane tapping against the floor. Then he stopped and looked back at me over his shoulder.

“Oh, and Elian?”

“Yes, Uncle?”

A cruel look appeared in his eyes.

“Commander Jace Corowa was injured during last night’s riot,” Holden said calmly. “He’s being removed from his position and will be brought before the High Council in chains at noon. He’s been accused of treason.”

He paused, letting his words sink in before giving me another cold smile.

“I suggest you dress warmly, Elian. It promises to be quite an execution.”