CHAPTER 27: CURRENTS OF POSSESSION

Caedrion awoke with the dawn, though not a quake nor blast had disturbed his rest after his first night with his new bride.

And when his eyes opened, he found himself utterly incapable of rising with it.

For his head was locked between Aelindria’s arms, her fingers tangled in his hair, pressing his cheek deep into the warmth of her embrace.

He didn’t fight it. The sight of her blissful face in slumber, soft, unguarded, still faintly flushed from the night before, was too disarming to disturb.

The faint fragrance of her hair, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing, the way the early light filtered through the curtains and caught on her pale skin.

All of it drew him back toward the heavy pull of sleep. His eyes closed again, surrendering.

His second awakening was far less gentle.

A stinging slap to the cheek jolted him upright.

At first he was utterly furious to be awoken in such a violent manner.

That is until his eyes adjusted and he saw Aelindria sitting across from him on the bed, bare shoulders framed by the loose fall of her hair, her eyes averted and her arms crossed over her chest.

She looked almost apologetic, as though the strike had been some half-conscious reflex.

But her shamefaced hesitation was all the confirmation Caedrion needed.

Her eyes flicked between the red print blooming on his cheek and his smirk, that maddeningly shameless expression that made her heart flutter every time she saw it.

"Good morning, big sister," he said with infuriating calm. "Did I frighten you?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. Her gaze dropped, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

"I’m sorry..."

The sound alone was enough to make his grin sharpen. He leaned closer until his lips nearly brushed her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"Oh? What was that? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you properly."

Her pride snapped back into place almost as if the entire scene just now was a figment of Caedrion’s imagination.

She shoved him playfully into the pillows and fled toward the bath, her cheeks a shade deeper than before.

"Forget it!"

Caedrion lay back, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. "I think this is the start of something beautiful..."

Sleep claimed him once more, and the sun climbed higher before he stirred again.

Far below the ocean’s sunless veil lay Submareth, the coral-wrought capital of the deep.

In its throne room, a cathedral of spiraling shell pillars and bioluminescent tapestries, Queen Thalassaria Virelleth sat alone.

She held her scrying crystal loosely in one webbed hand, the other tracing the carved armrest of her throne as she summoned the surface world into view.

She expected the man... No... her man, to appear.

Instead, the image resolved into a woman. Alone, beautiful, and unmistakably kin to the object of the Sea Queen’s fascination.

Thalassaria’s pupils narrowed into vertical slits, the water around her trembling with the force of her sudden stillness.

She would have dismissed it as some visiting relative... had the girl not begun to pout, splashing water in frustration.

"Dammit, Caedrion! I thought today would be different... Couldn’t you let me have one morning of bliss now that we’re married? You’re so shameless!"

The word landed like a harpoon. Married.

A tremor rippled through the palace.

Coral growths shuddered, schools of silverfish scattered from the arches, and the crystal in her palm groaned under the pressure of her grip.

"Married!?" The shout rang through the water, powerful enough to crack the crystal’s surface.

"He’s married!?" Her voice rose into a hiss. "That whore! How dare she steal my man from me!"

Only when the floor itself began to quake did she draw the fury back into herself.

The scrying sphere floated before her once more as she leaned on one hand, the other drumming her throne’s armrest until the echoes died away.

A long breath escaped her lips, sending lazy trails of bubbles toward the vaulted shellwork above.

She stared into the crystal, her voice quiet now... reverent, almost prayerful.

"Oh... my beautiful little land-born... Why must you do this to me?"

The words drifted into silence. No one was there to hear.

Valerius had not closed his eyes all night.

Though his Magi blood kept exhaustion at bay, it could not hide the toll in his face.

Pale, drawn, the hollows beneath his eyes dark as ash.

The letter sat on his desk still, the edges frayed where his fingers had crushed it.

As if taunting him the night before was not enough. Caedrion had sent another with the rise of dawn.

Valerius had read and reread the same mocking lines until the ink might as well have been carved into his mind:

To the Young Master of House Ignarion,

This is to inform you that Aelindria and I have been wed. Our first night together was... enlightening. I suspect the coming nights will be even more so, and, with any luck, the months ahead most fruitful. Do wish us health, for we intend to give House Ferrondel many heirs.

— Sincerely, Caedrion Ferrondel

His jaw clenched so hard it ached.

Every time the image came, Aelindria’s hair spilled across a pillow, her lips parting for another man, the urge to burn the world sharpened.

The rambling began under his breath, quick and uneven.

"Mine... mine... she was mine... stolen... stolen from me... She’s mine you knave!"

The guards outside his tent caught the muttering but looked away.

One younger soldier glanced back before the veteran beside him gripped his shoulder and turned him toward the mess hall.

"What our masters rage about isn’t our concern," the older man said flatly. "Eat while you can. Pray the Crucible spares us from whatever madness comes next. That is the most mercy nulls like us can ask for...."

And as soon as the morning meals were concluded, the siege began again. This time with far greater intensity. Yet the same result.