Chapter 21: Fire in the Council

The great doors of the council chamber groaned open, spilling light across the polished stone floor. Kaelan strode in with measured steps, his cloak sweeping behind him like a shadow. At his side, Elara followed, her chin lifted though her stomach twisted with unease.

The chamber was already filled—the circle of elders, their robes heavy with age and tradition, their eyes sharper than any blade. They bowed to their King, but their gazes flicked over Elara with undisguised disdain, like she was an intruder treading upon sacred ground.

“My King,” intoned Elder Ronak, the oldest among them, rising stiffly from his seat. “We are honored by your presence. But…” His gaze slid to Elara, narrowing. “It is uncommon for a queen to sit among us in matters of council.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the chamber. Some didn’t bother to hide their sneers.

Kaelan’s jaw tightened. “She is my Queen,” he said, his voice cool and hard. “And she will stand at my side.”

Elara’s heart thudded, but she kept her eyes forward, refusing to flinch.

Elder Veyna leaned forward, her voice sharp. “Then perhaps your Queen should hear this for herself. Our scouts report that villagers are vanishing overnight. Entire homes emptied by dawn. Livestock slaughtered, families gone. The border raids were only the beginning.”

A heavy silence fell.

Elder Rurik broke it with a low growl. “And still, we suffer misfortune since the day this girl arrived in our halls.” His finger stabbed the air toward Elara. “You crowned her, and suddenly whispers plague the walls, raiders spill across our borders, and our people vanish like smoke. Tell me, Kaelan—are these the signs of a blessed union, or a curse?”

Elara’s breath caught. The accusation sliced through her like a blade.

Other elders muttered in agreement, their voices rising like a storm.

“She weakens you.”

“She has no wolf blood.”

“The people will not follow her.”

Elara’s nails dug into her palms, but Kaelan’s presence beside her was unyielding steel.

“Enough,” the King’s voice thundered, silencing the chamber. His dark eyes burned as he swept his gaze over the elders. “You question me? Then question me to my face. But you will not insult my Queen.”

The doors opened again, cutting through the tension.

Lucien stepped inside, his stride smooth, his smile practiced. He bowed low, but there was mockery in the tilt of his mouth.

“Brother,” he said warmly, though the word dripped poison. “I heard troubling voices echoing through the halls. I came to lend my counsel.”

Kaelan’s shoulders stiffened. “You were not summoned.”

“And yet I am here.” Lucien’s gaze drifted to Elara, lingering too long before returning to the circle. “Surely you must admit the elders raise fair concerns. Misfortune has dogged us since her arrival. Perhaps the gods are displeased. Perhaps she is… not meant for this throne.”

Gasps rippled. A few elders nodded vigorously, emboldened by Lucien’s words.

Elara’s chest ached, the chamber closing in around her. Their stares burned into her, slicing her open. For a moment, she wanted to shrink, to flee this room filled with scorn.

But then something hardened in her chest.

She stepped forward, her voice trembling at first, then sharpening like steel. “I did not ask for any of this.”

The murmurs faltered, the elders staring in surprise.

“I did not ask to be dragged from my life and bound to a King. I did not ask for your whispers, your contempt, or your fear.” Her voice rose, echoing against the stone. “You speak as though I came here to curse you. But I bleed as you bleed. I suffer as your people suffer. If you think me weak, then so be it—but do not forget it was not my hand that summoned these misfortunes.”

Her chest heaved, but she met their eyes, one after another, daring them to deny her.

The chamber fell into uneasy silence.

Lucien’s smile widened faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He clapped slowly, the sound mocking in the heavy room. “Well said, my Queen. Fire suits you. Perhaps one day it will burn bright enough to silence doubt.”

Kaelan shot him a glare that could have felled stone, but Lucien only inclined his head, feigning innocence.

The King turned back to the elders, his voice final. “This council exists to protect the kingdom, not to tear apart its Queen. Speak of curses again, and you will answer to me directly.”

The elders shifted uneasily, bowing their heads though resentment still simmered in their eyes.

Elara stood beside Kaelan, her heart still racing, her hands trembling where they were hidden in her cloak. She had spoken—but she did not know if it had silenced or only provoked them further.

Lucien’s gaze lingered on her, sly and calculating. He had won something tonight, though she could not yet name what.