Chapter 11
298 Words
Lady Maris arrived with a retinue of silk and steel. A diplomat’s smile. A predator’s calm.
Her beauty was polished, calculated. Not like Ava’s quiet wildness — Ava was beautiful like a storm gathering at dusk. Maris was beautiful like a blade hidden in embroidery.
She bowed low to the king. “It is an honor to return to court, Your Majesty.”
Ava watched Kaelen’s expression — still, unreadable. But Maris’s eyes flicked toward Ava with something colder than envy.
Selene noticed it, too.
Later, in the queen’s study, Selene leaned in close as she handed Ava a scroll. “Do not trust her.”
“Why?” Ava asked, voice low.
“She was in love with Kaelen once,” Selene replied. “Might still be. And worse—she’s clever.”
Ava said nothing, but a knot formed in her chest.
That night, the supper between Ava and Kaelen was quieter.
Kaelen studied her between bites. “You’re quiet.”
“Politics make me tired,” she said.
“Or is it Maris?” His eyes glinted.
Ava didn’t answer at first. Then softly, she asked, “Do you remember the tree by the stream?”
He blinked. “Of course.”
“I miss that version of us,” she whispered. “Before the crowns. Before the blood.”
Kaelen set down his cup, looking at her fully now. “I still see her, Ava. That girl. And I see the woman she became.”
Silence again. Warm. Dangerous.
He reached for her hand — calloused fingers against hers.
“I don’t need anyone else,” he said. “I chose you.”
Ava’s heart stuttered. Her revenge burned quietly behind her ribs, but so did something else now — something far more treacherous.
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