Pampered By All

King Theron sat by himself in his chamber, each heartbeat sending a fresh wave of pain through his head. Sleep had eluded him, and the fire haunted him still.

Her fire haunted him.

The silence clung to the air like ash after a storm, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.

He had watched Elara in the Circle of Echoes, watched the flames dance at her command, and watched her stand tall above Isla, her eyes blazing with a power that both drew and terrified him.

And for the first time, he had truly seen her, seen the echoes of a past he thought he'd long buried.

He whispered the name only to himself, the sound barely audible over the pounding in his chest.

"Seraphina."

Seventeen years had passed, yet the memories of that night still lingered, shrouded in smoke and betrayal.

One woman with prophecy in her blood and truth on her tongue, and now a girl who bore her eyes, her fire, her defiance.

He rose from his chair, hands clasped behind his back, and paced across the room, his thoughts tangled in a web of past and present.

He couldn't wait anymore. Roran had been gone too long.

A sharp knock broke the stillness.

"Enter," the King called.

Lady Marellia stepped in, her movements as graceful as ever.

"Your Majesty, I was told you summoned me?"

"No," he said distractedly, rubbing his temples.

"The Empress has asked if you sent Captain Roran out for an errand. She's requested Roran accompany Isla on a diplomatic visit."

The king turned slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"And where, precisely, is this visit to?"

Marellia paused, her voice measured.

"She didn't specify, Your Majesty."

He sensed there was more, something beneath the surface that Marellia wasn't saying.

"Find out," he said, his voice low.

Marellia bowed.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

As she turned to leave, the King stopped her.

"And Marellia. Should Roran return, send him straight to me. No one else."

She nodded and left without another word.

In the west wing, Ana stirred, her breathing soft and even.

Elara sat next to her, staring at Ana's face while her fingers curled around her hand. The room was still, save for the soft rasp of Ana's breath.

"I'm happy you're getting better," Elara whispered.

Ana cracked one eye open, a hint of mischief in her gaze.

"You're not that easy to kill. I figured I'd try the wine first."

Elara choked on a laugh, tears brimming in her eyes.

"If you cry," Ana warned, her voice barely above a whisper, "I swear I'll sit up just to slap you."

"Deal," Elara said, smiling.

M appeared in the doorway, a small ward stone in his hand. He bent next to Ana and placed it under her pillow.

"Protection," he said, his voice low. "Old magic. It listens."

Ana smiled faintly.

"So brooding. The two of you should marry and glare at everyone together."

Elara rolled her eyes.

"Rest, Ana. We need you strong."

Ana's smile faded as sleep reclaimed her.

---

Later, a scroll arrived, sealed with the royal crest.

Elara unfolded it, her eyes scanning the message.

"They want me at court," she said, her voice tight with tension.

M stood at her side, his gaze fixed on the scroll.

"They're providing a seat," he said with deliberate calm.

"But at what cost? The court has always loved to watch things rise... and fall."