CHAPTER 314: A CONVERSATION ABOUT THE CURRENT WEATHER

The forest slowly swallowed them, the darkness between the trees cut only by the runes floating around the group. Kael walked ahead, his heavy steps breaking roots and dry leaves, while Exelia followed close behind, her rapier dangling from her hand, reflecting the greenish glow of nocturnal insects. The other witches followed silently, spread out in formation, but always keeping a distance—as if the mere weight of Kael and Exelia’s presence was enough to drive them away.

The sound of the wind through the tall canopies seemed like a subdued whisper, and for a while no one dared speak. Until Kael, with that lazy tone that hid barbs of command, broke the silence:

"Exelia..." he said, without turning his head, his red eyes fixed on the dark path ahead. "How is my grandmother?"

Exelia adjusted her grip on her rapier and replied after a brief moment, her voice calm but firm:

"Queen Eleonor remains reclusive." Her gaze scanned the surrounding branches, as if always expecting ambushes, even in familiar territory. "She’s been too busy with her research. We hardly see her outside the laboratory."

Kael raised an eyebrow, a cold smile appearing.

"Still buried in experiments, then," he muttered, spitting to the side. "The old woman prefers to play with vials and runes than to look at what’s happening in the world."

Exelia tilted her head, but didn’t immediately object. Her eyes roamed the prince, assessing his expression.

"She believes what she does is necessary. But she hasn’t denied her work; she’s very attentive," she replied, her tone measured. "The queen is convinced that her research will change the way we control mana."

Kael snorted, the harsh sound echoing through the trees.

"Hah." He narrowed his eyes. "She keeps going like this, I wish she’d stop and rest for a bit. I’ve heard that talk about changing the world a few times."

Exelia smirked, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Maybe this time will be different," she said, almost teasingly. "At least, that’s what all the divisions are whispering. The queen doesn’t accept visitors, doesn’t interrupt her work, not even for council meetings. She keeps herself locked away, as if she’s found something only she can touch."

Kael let out a low, almost humorless laugh as he pushed aside a twig that was in the way.

"Hah... that old woman should retire," he muttered, his tone oscillating between irony and bitterness. "After centuries, it’s time to put down the vials and rest on some golden throne."

Exelia looked up at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. His voice was calm, but with a hint of sharp curiosity:

"Are you implying that you wish to take the throne, prince?"

Kael paused for a moment, turning his head just enough to give him a flashing red gaze. His smile was crooked, like a blade reflecting the moon.

"And if I said yes?" he asked, his voice thick with malice. "Would you follow my orders, Exelia? Would you, with all your pride, kneel before me without hesitation?"

The silence between them seemed to stretch for seconds longer than usual. Exelia maintained her firm posture, and then answered without a shadow of a doubt:

"Of course." His voice was steely, and his dark eyes didn’t waver. "If you were to take the throne, I would have no reservations about serving you."

Kael laughed again, but this time there was more weight, more shadow to the sound. He shook his head and resumed walking, his footsteps crushing the vegetation like hammer blows.

"No," he said finally, dryly. "I don’t want the throne."

Exelia frowned.

"Then why talk about the queen’s retirement?"

Kael sighed, his gaze lost among the tree trunks, as if speaking to himself.

"Because I’m only worried about her," he admitted, a rare trace of sincerity in his voice. "The old woman has carried this burden for too long. And even when it seems the weight will break her, she insists on carrying on."

He lifted the broken chain still attached to his arm, letting the metallic clang echo through the forest.

"It’s not about power. It’s about knowing when to release the chains before they fuse to the flesh."

Exelia watched him silently, as if recording every word he said. For the first time in a long time, her lips curved into a genuine smile—rare, discreet, but true.

"Who would have thought..." she murmured. "The Iron Prince knows how to worry, too."

Kael responded with only a low grunt, resuming his walk.

The forest continued densely, the darkness between the trees engulfing everything around them like a living blanket. The silence was broken only by the snapping of branches beneath the group’s feet and the rustling of ravens’ wings as they fled in flocks from treetop to treetop.

Kael broke the silence first, his voice drawling but heavy.

"And the world, Exelia?" he asked, without looking back. "While I’ve been busy with serpents and betrayals, how is the rot going outside?"

Exelia didn’t answer immediately. Her dark eyes scanned the shadows between the trunks, as if searching for hidden enemies, but in truth she was choosing her words.

"There are curious movements..." she began slowly. "Especially in Skardi."

The name made Kael turn slightly, his red eyes flashing.

"Skardi," he repeated, spitting the word like poison. "The kingdom of the princess I had to escort as if it were a golden burden."

Exelia raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on the acidity in her tone.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Something there seems... off."

Kael narrowed his eyes, scanning the path ahead.

"Be clear," he ordered, his voice low, almost a growl. "What is happening in that icy nest?"

Exelia took a deep breath before continuing:

"Skardi has never accepted the Emperor’s orders. A nation too proud to bow, sustained by ancient traditions and their isolated geography. Mountains, snow, and a faith that prevents them from bowing." Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her rapier. "For decades, the Emperor has tolerated this." Not because he respected them, but because of a small political connection... an agreement made before he was even born.

Kael smiled disdainfully.

"An agreement," he said, spitting the word out as if it were something dirty. "The Emperor never leaves anything alone without exacting a price."

Exelia nodded.

"Precisely. That’s why it’s strange. For years, Skardi remained distant, isolated. He rejected summons, ignored treaties, laughed at threats. But now..." She trailed off.

Kael turned his face, fixing her with narrowed eyes.

"Now what?" His voice sounded like a blade slipping from its sheath.

Exelia took a moment, as if even the explanation itself carried weight.

"Now they seem to want friendship," he said finally. "And not just empty words. For the first time in generations, they sent someone outside their borders... the princess. They sent her to study in Azalith."

The silence that followed was so thick that even the nocturnal insects seemed to fall silent. Kael stopped mid-path, resting his hand on a moss-covered trunk. A low, harsh laugh escaped his lips.

"So that’s it," he murmured. "They offer us the heir as a gift, as a gesture of false goodwill."

Exelia approached, keeping her tone neutral.

"That’s what it looks like. An outstretched hand where before there were only clenched fists."

Kael lifted his head and laughed louder, the sound echoing through the trees like muffled thunder.

"And everyone believes this charade?" he asked, turning suddenly to her. "A nation that spat in the Empire’s face for decades now sends its most delicate flower to be watered on enemy soil?"

Exelia didn’t flinch from his gaze.

"Many believe it’s strategy," she said firmly. "Others, naively, call it ’the beginning of a new era.’"

Kael smiled, but the smile held no warmth. It was a cold blade, a silent cut.

"A new era," he repeated mockingly. "The world always deceives itself with such sweet words before swallowing poison."

He resumed walking, crunching branches underfoot, but his tone remained thick with sarcasm.

"Tell me, Exelia... what’s stopping the Emperor from simply taking Skardi now? They bow, offer gifts, show weakness. This would be the perfect moment to crush them and reclaim their mountains of ice."

Exelia narrowed her eyes, answering after a measured pause.

"Perhaps exactly that," she said. "This sudden ’friendship’ could be the trap. Skardi has never been known for acts of submission. Some believe they hide something. A new strength, or an ancient pact.

Kael stopped again, turning slowly to face her. The red in his eyes glowed like embers in the darkness.

"A pact," he repeated, his voice deep, almost a whisper. "I’ve smelled it. It wouldn’t be the first time a fragile crown has been supported by demonic backs."

Exelia nodded seriously.

"It’s possible. We have no proof, but the sudden interest in approaching Azalith raises suspicions. And some say the princess herself isn’t as... innocent as she appears."

Kael lifted his chin, his laughter returning, dry as gravel.

"No princess is," he declared. "They are all created like blades within golden sheaths. One mistake is all it takes for them to cut deep."

The group of witches behind them remained silent, but the air grew heavier, as if each word had rooted shadows in the forest.

Kael ran a hand over his face, as if warding off fatigue, then murmured,

"Skardi... a nation of ice finally showing warmth." He narrowed his eyes. "I don’t trust it. I never have."

Exelia, watching him, ventured a question.

"What if it’s not a trick?" he said. "What if it really is a chance to get closer?"

Kael turned his head slowly, and the look he gave her was so cutting it made even the nocturnal insects scatter around them.

"Then they are fools," he replied dryly. "And fools deserve to be swallowed first."

Exelia didn’t respond. She simply tightened her grip on her rapier, as if the blade itself understood the weight of that sentence.

Silence fell again, thick, almost suffocating. The wind howled through the treetops, and the moon, hidden among the clouds, seemed to watch the prince as he walked like a predator unleashed on a foreign land.

Kael lifted his face to the sky and let out one last comment, low, but full of venom and certainty.

"Skardi can play at friendship, but sooner or later I’ll discover what they’re hiding." His lips curved into a dark smile. "And when I do, not even their ice will be enough to extinguish the fire that will come."