CHAPTER 146: WHAT IF?

Ariston

The lake shimmered beneath the silver weight of the moon.

It was quiet. Too quiet. Even the water barely dared to move—just a soft ripple now and then from the breeze drifting through the trees.

I sat next to Drakkar on the marble edge of the royal lake, elbows on my knees, my fingers loosely intertwined. He hadn’t spoken in a while. Not since we left the isolated tower. The silence between us wasn’t comfortable. It had weight—coiled, quiet tension.

He was angry.

I could feel it in the way his jaw tightened, the stiffness in his shoulders, the low hum of energy that always clung to him when he was holding something back.

Then finally, he looked at me, and I looked away.

"Did you know she was alive?" His voice wasn’t loud. But it carried.

I didn’t answer right away. Just watched the reflection of the moon break apart on the lake’s surface.

"Yes," I said softly.

There was silence again. Colder now.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. "How?" he asked. "How is that even possible? We all saw her. She was dead, Ariston. That wasn’t something we imagined."

"It was the princess, Aelin," I said, still not meeting his eyes. "Her doing. She has... a gift. She can bring someone back, within five minutes of death. Your mother was the first one she tried it on... And it worked."

Drakkar fell completely silent.

I couldn’t tell if he was stunned, or furious, or both.

I felt a twist of guilt in my chest, but I didn’t let it reach my face. I couldn’t. I wasn’t proud of keeping it from him—but it hadn’t been my choice to make. The king had told me not to speak of it. And my loyalty lies with the Princess, so I had to do what her husband said.

So I said nothing more.

Beside me, Drakkar stared out across the lake, the moonlight catching in his eyes, making them look sharper. Pale. Distant.

"She can revive anyone within five minutes?" he asked at last, voice low.

I nodded slightly. "As far as I know... yes. If the body’s still in a condition to hold life. Like with the Queen. Her wound was clear. It could be closed, reversed."

He let that sink in.

"Aelin has a terrifying power," he murmured.

I swallowed. "She does." Then took a deep breath, "But Draegon has asked us to keep quiet about it."

He nodded, then paused, "Why weren’t we told right away?" he asked, sharper now, turning his head toward me. "Why was this kept secret?"

I hesitated. Then gave him the truth—the part I could say.

"Because Draegon was angry," I said. "His mother came back, but in a weak state. It must’ve enraged him. I mean, it would enrage anyone," I took a small pause, "Seeing your mother after so many years, and then finding her in such a pathetic condition." I licked my lower lip. "I think he wanted to punish Darcelle. Make her feel what it meant to lose family."

Drakkar didn’t interrupt.

"But," I went on, "he must’ve realized eventually that you and Draken weren’t part of it. That you weren’t the ones responsible."

I glanced at him.

"He changed his mind."

Drakkar sat still, staring out at the lake again, his profile hard and unreadable.

"I honestly don’t know what to do about this now." He said

"I think this is a fitting punishment for her," I didn’t look at Drakkar, it was his mother who I was talking about, "Draegon has only chosen to isolate her, but he hasn’t stopped you or Draken from visiting her. It’s so much better than what Queen Darcelle did. She made Seraphine a living skeleton and didn’t even allow Draegon to meet her mother- worse, he couldn’t even see her or hear her."

Drakkar let out a sigh, "This is a humiliating punishment for a demon, much less a dragon at that." He let out a sigh, "But mother was the one who accepted the duel and she lost," He rubbed the start of his nose, right between the eyes, "If Draegon hadn’t killed her and only knocked her out in their duel. This would have still been her fate."

It was heavy

But it was what it was.

***

Draken

The library was warm and quiet, filled with the scent of old parchment. Outside, the sky was beginning to tint gold, streaked with purple clouds. A storm might be brewing. Or maybe it had already passed. I wasn’t really paying attention.

Vesper was lounging across the nearest table, flipping through a leather-bound history tome with little interest. "The Queen being dramatic," she muttered, voice edged with exasperation. "How could she get mad at me for doing that?"

I barely blinked.

"She’s human," I said absently, my gaze fixed on the book open in my lap. "They’re... different from us."

Vesper rolled her eyes, loud and theatrical. "That’s your response? You’ve known her for months and that’s all you’ve got?" She sighed. "Whatever. She could cry over a petal falling and you’d still act like it’s normal."

I didn’t answer.

Because I wasn’t really listening anymore.

I stared at the page in front of me—the same line I’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes—and couldn’t remember a single word. The sunlight spilled through the tall arched windows, dust floating in golden spirals. The quiet should’ve been comforting.

But my thoughts were too loud.

Vesper’s sharp eyes narrowed, and after a pause, she shifted to really look at me.

"You’re not reading," she said, tone suddenly more curious than teasing.

I looked up, slowly.

She leaned forward. "What’s going on in that brooding head of yours?"

I hesitated, then gently closed the book. My fingers lingered on the cover.

"The reason I didn’t want the throne," I said, voice low, "was because my mother wanted me to have it so badly. It was my way of rebelling. Because I didn’t like how she treated Draegon and what she was doing to his mother."

Vesper blinked, sitting up straighter.

"So?" she asked carefully.

I turned my head toward the window, watching the ripple of wind through the treetops. "So... I’ve been wondering. If I had taken it—if I’d done what she wanted—would everything have turned out differently?" My voice tightened. "Would it have saved Alishay?"

The name hung in the air like a blade.

Vesper didn’t speak for a long moment. Then, quietly, she stood and crossed the room.

She sat beside me on the cushioned window seat, her shoulder lightly brushing mine.

"I doubt it," she said, not unkindly. "Alishay was... Alishay. That was always her path. She made her own choices."

I let out a slow breath. The ache in my chest didn’t lessen.

"Maybe," I murmured. "But if I’d been king... I could have ordered Seraphine out of isolation. Maybe that would have kept Draegon from isolating mother. Maybe I could’ve changed something before it spiraled. Maybe we wouldn’t have—"

Vesper cut in gently, shaking her head. "You already know none of that matters, Draken."

I looked at her, but she wasn’t smug. Just certain.

"Destiny doesn’t bend for regret," she said. "Everyone made their own choices. The Queen—your mother—chose cruelty. She emotionally punished Draegon for years. She was unkind to Seraphine and put her into isolation. I don’t even know Seraphine kept her sanity there. Anyone would go crazy after a few weeks but she stayed there for years. Everything that’s happening now? It was always going to come back for your mother.."

I looked away again, jaw tight.

The weight of everything—the past, the throne, the blood we’d spilled to keep things together—it sat heavy in my chest.

Vesper’s voice softened even more. "You not taking the throne wasn’t the problem, Draken. You were never the problem."

Vesper was quiet for a while after that—something rare, and unsettling in its own way.

I could feel her watching me from the corner of my eye. I didn’t look at her. I was too deep in my own thoughts.

Then her voice broke the silence, softer than before. "Did you ever... I mean if it wasn’t for the pressure, then maybe, you did want to be king?"

I glanced at her.

She met my gaze, unflinching. "I don’t mean politically. Not for duty. I mean you—personally. Forget the rebellion, forget your mother’s obsession with the throne. Just... you. Did you ever think you could be king?"

The corner of my mouth curved faintly—more of a twitch than a smile. "Demons don’t want a thoughtful king, Vesper," I said. "They want someone who’s brutally strong. Dominant. Someone who can rip an enemy’s throat out in one blow and make a speech with the blood still on their hands."

"Everyone knows you’re strong," Vesper shot back, scoffing. "Your horns alone are a testament to that."

I didn’t answer immediately. My fingers absently ran over the edge of the closed book in my lap.

"But I don’t lust for power," I said eventually. "Never did." I glanced down at my hands. "I like books. Knowledge. The quiet. And like I told you before, I wanted to travel. To explore. To understand the world instead of ruling over it."

Vesper studied me for a long moment.

Then she leaned back against the window, her voice wry. "You’re a strange one, Draken. Especially for a demon."

I let out a quiet chuckle, low and dry. "Yeah," I said. "I know."