For a long, shattering moment, no one breathed.
The nobles stared, trembling.
The guards froze mid-draw.
The musicians hid behind their instruments.
Because the Sun Princess had commanded the Emperor of Vharon—
and he listened.
Kaedan’s fist hovered above the assassin’s face, trembling violently with the force of rage he held back.
The marble beneath the assassin’s skull was cracked.
Blood trickled down the man’s cheek.
Ariaxa’s hand pressed into Kaedan’s chest like the only thing holding back a storm.
“Kaedan,” she said softly.
His eyes burned.
His fangs still flashed.
But he didn’t move.
Not one inch.
The ballroom whispered in horror and awe:
“She controls him.”
“He obeyed.”
“By the gods…”
“What power does she hold…?”
Ariaxa slowly removed Kaedan’s hand from the assassin.
“Stand down.”
He sat back on his heels—barely.
His chest heaved.
His muscles shook.
The bond raged inside him, begging to kill, destroy, defend.
But her voice anchored him.
Her touch subdued him.
Her presence brought him back.
***
Ariaxa knelt beside the assassin while Kaedan hovered behind her like a living blade, ready to strike.
The noble coughed blood and laughed weakly.
“A Sunborn interrogating me… how poetic.”
Ariaxa’s eyes glowed gold.
Sun-sight.
A gift only her lineage carried.
A gift that revealed truth—
and lies—
and corrupted souls.
The assassin’s aura was twisted.
Marked.
Bound by Triarch magic.
She exhaled shakily.
“Tell me why they want me dead.”
The noble smirked.
“Because of the prophecy.”
A murmur rippled through the court.
“What prophecy?” Ariaxa asked.
He swallowed, smile fading.
“When Sun and Night unite…”
His voice cracked.
“…the world will kneel or burn.”
Ariaxa’s heart stuttered.
The assassin continued, eyes fever-bright.
“You two are the prophecy. Together, you are a cataclysm waiting to happen.”
Behind her, Kaedan’s snarl rumbled like thunder.
Ariaxa flinched.
Kaedan moved instantly, voice softer than the bond itself.
“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”
She forced herself to continue.
“The Triarchs think killing me stops it.”
“No,” the assassin wheezed. “They think killing you stops him.”
His eyes flicked toward Kaedan.
“If the Emperor claims you fully, their reign ends. Their power ends. Their world ends.”
Ariaxa swallowed hard.
“Claims… me fully…?”
The assassin smirked despite the blood in his teeth.
“Your bond is not complete.”
The bond pulsed sharply—heat in her ribs, pain in Kaedan’s chest.
Kaedan snarled, stepping forward.
“I will rewrite every prophecy with blood.”
The court recoiled.
He meant it.
Ariaxa placed a hand against his arm.
“Kaedan.”
He froze again.
This time, breathing harsher.
Teeth clenched.
Eyes still burning.
But he obeyed.
The entire hall saw it.
And understood:
This was no ordinary bond.
This was something older.
Deeper.
More dangerous than magic itself.
***
Ariaxa turned back to the assassin.
“Tell me the Triarchs’ real plan.”
The noble’s eyes flickered in terror.
“They… they aren’t stopping with you.”
Ariaxa’s stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
He trembled.
“They’ve already infiltrated… the palace…”
“Where?” Riven barked.
The assassin swallowed.
His next words fell like stones into an abyss.
“They’ve infiltrated the inner sanctum.”
Riven’s face drained of blood.
Kaedan went utterly still.
Ariaxa whispered, voice shaking,
“That’s where…”
The assassin nodded.
“Where the bond between you and the Emperor is strongest.”
The ballroom erupted into panic.