Chapter 10: The Night of No Return

The night sky hung heavily over the eastern tower, where Aurelia had chosen to isolate herself since midday. The cold air bit through her skin, but she remained on the stone balcony, gazing upon the capital now cloaked in shadows. The distant torchlight below flickered like stars fallen to earth—glimmering, yet fragile. Just like her.

"Princess."

The voice came with no footsteps, only a whisper in the shadows, familiar like a heartbeat she had too often ignored. Caelum.

Aurelia did not turn. "Do you always know where I am?"

"Always," he said, his voice soft yet deep. "Especially when you want to hide, but not truly be alone."

She sighed. "You know how to unravel my defenses."

Silence fell between them, broken only by the wind threading through the tower. Caelum stepped closer, his dark cloak stirring in the breeze. He stood close, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body in the freezing air.

"Serion will ascend the throne soon," Aurelia whispered. "And he seeks a political alliance with me after... annulling his engagement."

Caelum turned toward her, his expression unreadable though his eyes darkened. "What do you want from him?"

"Does it matter?" she replied, finally looking at him. "Do I seem like a woman who hinges her future on whichever man offers her a crown?"

"Of course not," he answered quickly. "You make crowns seem insignificant compared to your resolve."

His words lingered longer than they should have. Aurelia looked down, then spoke softly, "But you also know... I can't always fight alone."

Caelum stepped even closer, now just inches from her. His eyes locked onto hers. "You're not alone, Aurelia. Never."

For the first time that night, her soul trembled. Not from weakness, but from that warmth. That trust. The unwavering loyalty she saw in his eyes. A gaze that made everything feel... a little easier to bear.

"I'm afraid," she murmured.

Caelum said nothing. He simply opened his cloak and pulled her into his arms. His shoulders strong, his chest warm. For a moment, Aurelia allowed herself to stop thinking. To just breathe.

And from some deep place—perhaps longing, or exhaustion—Aurelia lifted her face. Her eyes searched Caelum's. And when she found them—dark and clear like an untouched night—she knew this wasn't just attraction. This was a battlefield.

"Caelum," she whispered.

He didn't reply.

Aurelia moved first—closer, fingers brushing his jawline, and then she kissed him.

The kiss was not rushed or hungry. It was slow, cautious, like someone relearning how to trust. Caelum froze at first, surprised. Then, gently, he returned it—not with force, but with heartbreaking care. As though afraid to shatter something fragile.

When they pulled apart, their breaths were still aligned.

"You shouldn't have done that," Caelum murmured, though his hand still held hers.

"I know," Aurelia replied, unapologetic. "But I can't keep pretending."

He looked at her, and for the first time, she saw tears in his eyes. "I'll stay by your side, even if your heart doesn't belong to me."

She said nothing. Only squeezed his hand tighter.

The next morning, word arrived of an incident at the northern border. A scout base destroyed. Two commanders loyal to House Vaelthorn were missing.

Aurelia dressed in light armor of deep black and violet—the colors of her bloodline, now embraced as part of herself.

When she entered the war chamber, Serion was already there. He stood with his back to the strategy table, turning only at the sound of her footsteps.

"You look... lethal, Aurelia," Serion said with a smirk. "As if you alone could overthrow an army."

She stared at him blankly. "Is that flattery or a warning?"

"A bit of both," he replied. "I admire you. And that's... dangerous."

They stood across from each other, surrounded by maps and military figures, yet the greater tension lay between them.

Time paused. Serion reached out in a calculated gesture and kissed the back of her hand.

It was not a passionate kiss, nor an affectionate one. It was a subtle claim, as if to say he hadn't given up.

Aurelia pulled her hand away slowly. "Don't think I'll choose you just because you cast aside your bride-to-be."

Serion chuckled. "I never thought you would. I know... you're not easily won. But that makes you all the more valuable."

As Aurelia left the war chamber, her heart trembled. Not for Serion. But for last night. For Caelum.

Because in the battlefield of power and love, not all wounds come from enemies.

By midday, Aurelia stepped out from a royal meeting room. Her gown billowed, but her steps were steady. She no longer felt like a pawn on Serion's chessboard. She was a player now. And within her, something had awakened.

Caelum waited in the marble corridor. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"You heard it?" Aurelia asked finally.

"Everyone in that room did," Caelum replied calmly. "But only I understood it."

Aurelia gave a small smile. "Serion still thinks he holds my reins. But today, I saw it clearly... he's afraid. Not because I still love him. But because I'm starting to love my freedom."

Caelum walked beside her. "And what will you do with that freedom?"

Aurelia stopped. She raised her right hand and looked at it as if it were a foreign thing. The wind stilled. Tension hung in the air. In a blink, a thin light enveloped her palm—not flame, but a red-gold aura pulsing like a heartbeat.

Caelum stepped back. "What is that?"

Aurelia closed her eyes and let the energy flow before fading.

"My mother once said the Vaelthorn blood never truly dies. It just waits for a reason to reignite. Maybe this is that moment."

"Is it some kind of inherited magic?"

"Older than magic. It's the power of the ancient royal wardens. Passed down only to those who refuse to bow completely."

Caelum stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "You don't need my protection."

She turned, serene. "But I want you beside me."

And for a moment, silence bloomed. Nothing was said, but everything was understood.

That night, in the western wing where Aurelia lived, the atmosphere changed. No guards. No attendants. Only silence, and a sky filled with stars.

Caelum stood near the window, watching. Aurelia sat near the fireplace, her hair loosely pinned, dressed in a midnight-black nightgown.

"You always keep watch outside," she said.

"That door is the boundary that keeps you safe," Caelum replied.

Aurelia rose and walked slowly toward him. "And what if I'm the one who opens it myself?"

Caelum looked at her, momentarily stunned.

"Aurelia..."

She stood so close, their breaths mingled.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered. "Since last night... since you ki-"

"Caelum," she murmured, placing a finger on his lips. "Do you think I need to be... comforted tonight?"

Her voice was soft but charged with fire. Her eyes burned like twin sapphires.

Caelum swallowed. "If it's a command..."

"I'm not commanding," she whispered into his ear. "I'm asking..."

And the night swallowed them whole—in unfamiliar warmth, in restrained breath, in the friction of skin that transcended loyalty and honor. Their touch wasn't mere desire. It was a silent confession of wounds understood—and the need to mend them through feeling, not words.

Aurelia pulled Caelum to the bed without many words, only with a look and a grasp.

And beneath the moonlight slipping past the curtains, for the first time... they burned through the boundary.

The next morning, Aurelia woke to an empty room. But on the table lay Caelum's neatly folded cloak, and a single belati bloom—a rare flower said to grow only in thorny forests, picked only by those willing to bleed for something they cannot entirely claim.

Aurelia held the flower and smiled.

"So this is what you choose, Caelum..."

She didn't know if it was the beginning of something more, or just a pause before ruin. But for the first time in her life, she didn't feel alone in facing the world.

And for the first time... her power wasn't the only thing that made her feel alive.