Chapter 18: Alliance

Nyra Vaelith leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Good ones, I hope," Elira replied.

Nyra walked closer, her boots echoing softly. "You took on Saelinne and Therel in your first real session. That's like throwing a torch into dry hay."

"Did it burn?"

"Oh, it's smoldering. But now they know you're not a pawn."

Elira hesitated. "How long before they strike back?"

Nyra's eyes glinted. "They already are."

That Night, Kaelion's War Tower

Kaelion paced the war tower, eyes flicking over reports that had nothing to do with battlefields and everything to do with the court.

"She held her ground?" he asked.

Commander Rhun nodded. "More than that. She shook them."

Kaelion exhaled, slow and thoughtful. "They'll retaliate."

"They already tried."

Kaelion looked up sharply.

"Her invitation to the artisan guild ball tomorrow?" Rhun said. "Revoked. Claimed it was 'accidentally misplaced.'"

Kaelion's face darkened.

He didn't say a word.

He didn't need to.

The Next Morning, Princess's Garden

Elira stood among frost-laced roses, reading the letter. Her name wasn't on the guest list. The guild had bowed to political pressure. A message, written in invisible ink: You're not one of us.

But before she could even process it fully, a page arrived at her side.

"From His Highness," the boy said, bowing low.

She opened the scroll and blinked.

It was a second invitation—this time, signed by the Crown Prince himself. With a single line:

"If they won't open the door, I'll break it down."

Elira laughed—quiet, delighted.

She didn't need saving.

But this—this was something else entirely.

Not rescue. Not protection.

Alliance.