The silence after their exchange lingered ... not awkward, but thoughtful. The morning light spilled warmly through the tall windows, painting the marble floor in soft gold. Seagulls cried faintly from somewhere beyond the cliffs, and the distant hum of the sea reached them like a low heartbeat.
Aurelia picked at her food not feeling quite hungry. Her fingers tracing absently along the glass of wine. "Your father's steward came by earlier," she said at last, her voice quiet.
Vaelric, seated near the table, glanced up. "Oh?"
"He said I'm to attend a family dinner tonight," she continued. "Your father wishes me to be properly acquainted with everyone."
He blinked once, surprise flickering in his pale eyes. "A dinner?"
She turned toward him, the sunlight catching the faint sheen of her copper hair. "Yes. I imagine it will be… interesting."
Vaelric leaned back slowly in his chair, exhaling through his nose. "That's one word for it. I would've preferred he waited a week or two before throwing you to the wolves."
Aurelia smiled faintly. "So I've heard. Even gwen keeps warning me about wolves."
"Not without reason," he said. "Not everyone in this family is happy about my father's marriage."
"I figured as much," she replied softly.
He nodded. "Grandmother Aelira will object most, I think. But she's harmless now. Her pride's sharper than her claws these days."
Aurelia turned back toward the light. "And her objections? They won't be only because of my curse, will they?"
He hesitated, then shook his head. "No. You're right. It isn't just that. Grandmother Aelira had other plans for my father long before he met you."
Aurelia's brow arched slightly. "Other plans?"
"She wanted him to marry Lady Cynthia Raventhorn," he said. "Daughter of the Marquis of Raventhorn...Ser Cornelius Raventhorn....High Lord of the Sky Fleet. It was arranged years ago, before my father ever went to Caelmont."
"Lady Cynthia Raventhorn," Aurelia repeated thoughtfully. "So that was the match your grandmother dreamed of."
"Yes. The perfect political bond. The Raventhorns control the northern trade winds and the fleets that guard the upper coasts. Grandmother saw them as ideal allies for Valkoron." He gave a small, wry smile. "And then my father returned from Caelmont married to you."
"Ruining her plans," Aurelia murmured.
Aurelia's expression didn't shift much, though something flickered briefly in her eyes....perhaps curiosity, perhaps pity. "So, there was another bride meant for the storm lord."
"Yes," Vaelric said. "Grandmother was certain it would happen. The contracts were all but drawn. Lady Cynthia is of high birth, polished, and…" He hesitated. "Quite taken with the idea of becoming Storm Queen."
"And then," Aurelia murmured, "his marriage to me ruined her hopes and dreams."
"Precisely." His tone was edged with amusement and sympathy both. "You can imagine the chaos that caused. The Raventhorns were humiliated. Grandmother has been nursing that wound ever since."
"I see." She exhaled, the sound weary but not bitter. "So they hate me not for what I am, but for what I've replaced."
"Both actually," he said. "And Lady Cynthia's family doesn't forgive easily. You'll find that my grandmother doesn't forgive easily. She'll likely make tonight's dinner her battleground. She'll hate you for ruining a plan she's been weaving for years."
Aurelia turned away, walking slowly toward the window . Her reflection stared back at her in the glass: the scars, the dull grey of her once-vivid eyes, the broken beauty she had long learned to endure.
"I've faced enemies on the battlefield," she said softly. "Fire and blood. But this...this feels like another kind of war entirely."
"It is," Vaelric agreed. "A courtly war. Quieter, but no less dangerous."
She gave a humorless laugh. "Wonderful. I would've preferred swords."
He smiled faintly. "Both are wars, mother. One is fought with steel, the other with words. But the wounds last just as long."
Her gaze softened as she turned back toward him. "You speak as if you've fought both."
"I have," he said simply. "Just not the kind you see."
"I see," Aurelia said dryly. "So it's to be a war fought with smiles and forks."
"Precisely. Don't be fooled by her frailness. She'll try to make you flinch, to find your weak point."
Aurelia crossed her arms lightly. "I've been burned by fire. I doubt words will hurt more than that."
Vaelric smiled faintly. "You sound like my father when he's preparing for council."
"Then perhaps I'll survive dinner after all."
He chuckled softly, the sound warm in the morning air. "You will. Still, prepare yourself. Grandmother isn't the only one you'll have to face."
Aurelia looked back at him, curious. "Who else?"
"My father's sister," he said. "Lady Levina Asterholt. You'll like her....she's gentle, kind, and far less interested in court politics than most. But her husband, Ser Corvin Asterholt, is another matter."
"Dangerous?"
"Not openly. He's a man who smiles too easily and speaks too little. He was once an advisor to the late Storm Lord before my father took the throne. Keep your answers guarded around him."
"I will." Aurelia gave a short nod. "And the others?"
Vaelric's expression darkened slightly. "Lady Rhaelynn."
"The concubine?"
"Yes. She belonged to my grandfather....the previous Storm Lord. When he died, my father allowed her to remain in court out of respect. She has influence still… and a son who knows how to use it."
Aurelia's tone softened. "Grand Prince Daeron."
"My uncle," Vaelric confirmed. "You'll meet him tonight as well. He's my father's stepbrother....charming, proud, and far too aware of his bloodline. He believes the throne should have passed to him."
"So he'll see me as another insult," Aurelia murmured.
"Most likely," Vaelric said. "He'll be polite, of course. Always is. But watch his eyes when he smiles.....Daeron's words are knives sheathed in silk."
Aurelia gave a slow exhale, gaze drifting toward the sea. "Your home is full of daggers."
He tilted his head. "And you've walked through fire. You'll do fine."
She turned back to him, her lips curving faintly. "You speak as though you have faith in me."
"I do," he said simply. "You're stronger than half the council combined. You just don't see it yet."
That earned him a small, genuine smile. "You're quite the comforter for someone raised in a fortress of storms."
"I prefer to think I inherited my father's bluntness," he replied lightly. "It saves time."
Their shared laughter softened the air between them for a moment.
Then Vaelric rose, smoothing the edge of his sleeve. "Whatever happens tonight, remember this: don't let them see you retreat. Grandmother will prod. Rhaelynn will flatter. Daeron will test. They'll all watch to see if you falter."
"And you?" she asked. "Will you watch too?"
He met her gaze, earnest and steady. "I'll be there. Not as your defender, but as proof you're not alone in that room."
Her eyes lingered on him, touched with quiet gratitude. "That's enough, Vaelric."
He inclined his head, a faint smile on his lips.
As he turned to leave, Aurelia's voice stopped him. "Vaelric," she said softly. "Do you think they'll ever accept me?"
He hesitated in the doorway, then looked back. "No. But you should make them learn not to cross you. And that's better."
Aurelia's lips twitched faintly. "Politics before affection."
"It's how Valkoron survives," he said with a half-smile. "And those who forget that don't last long."
Her voice lowered, steady but resolute. "Then let's hope I last longer than they expect."
Vaelric's eyes softened with something like pride. "You will, my lady, you will."
And with that, he left her standing in the sunlight, the sea's distant song carrying faintly through the open window ....the only sound left to witness the storm she would soon face at supper.