CHAPTER 148: FIRE IN THE FIELD, CHILL IN THE HEART

Aelin

The wind carried the scent of char and sun-warmed stone.

I had only meant to take a quiet walk — to clear my head, to prepare for the meeting that would begin in less than an hour. But as I wandered into the outer corridor of the palace — the one that curved like an arc around the highest slope — I stopped in my tracks.

Below, in the vast, scorched training grounds, the world was on fire.

Not with destruction, but with power. Intention. Control.

Draegon was there, bare-chested and gleaming in the golden afternoon sun. A thin shimmer of hardened black scales lined his arms and shoulders like armor forged from his very skin, refracting violet in the light. His purple eyes were sharp, focused — completely locked onto his sparring partner.

Vesper.

She stood across from him, fire trailing like whips from her arms, her half-serpent form coiled with strength. Red-gold scales shimmered up her back and throat, catching light with every twist and strike. When she spun, it was with liquid elegance, like the fire obeyed her without thought.

They moved together with terrifying grace — fire curling between them, explosions erupting in short bursts as they collided again and again.

And neither of them flinched.

Fire was in their nature.

I stayed hidden in the shadows of the corridor, tucked behind a tall pillar, watching with an uneasy silence.

Across the ring, Draken and Drakkar stood side by side. Black-clad and calm. They weren’t fighting, just watching, but I could feel their presence from here. Draken’s arms were crossed, his red eyes narrowed with interest — calculating, detached. Drakkar, on the other hand, was leaning casually against a post, a slight grin curving his lips. Not mocking — more like amused approval.

And then Vesper laughed.

It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t even directed at anyone.

But something about it — light, open, easy — burrowed under my skin like a splinter.

She kicked up a wave of flame, and Draegon met it head-on. It crashed over him, heat blooming across the entire field in a fiery explosion — but of course, it didn’t burn him. When the smoke cleared, Draegon stood in the center, flame dancing harmlessly over his scaled skin as he grinned back at her.

Something twisted deep in my chest.

They were... relaxed. Comfortable. Even Drakkar joined in next, vaulting over a stone barrier with a low flare of red flame as he landed beside them. The three of them laughed as they formed a rotating ring, attacking and dodging and countering each other with wild, volatile bursts of magic. The training field — easily the size of a village square — was a living storm of fire.

I had never seen Draegon like that before. Of course, I had never seen him spar like this before too, so I had no idea he enjoyed training.

It wasn’t just that he was sparring with them — it was how he was sparring. Fluid, light-footed, more alive than ever. Vesper wasn’t just keeping up — she was provoking him. Matching him. Even Drakkar, with his cocky grins and effortless flames, joined the rhythm like it was second nature.

And I...

I was up here, watching.

The heat from the field licked the underside of the balcony, making the air shimmer. But inside me, the chill grew. Quiet. Sharp.

It wasn’t jealousy.

Or maybe it was.

But there was something raw and aching about seeing them move so seamlessly together — like they were pieces from the same puzzle, forged in the same fire.

Vesper shouted something to Draegon — I couldn’t make out the words — and then launched herself at him. He caught her mid-spin and used the momentum to throw her over his shoulder in a clean arc. She landed in a roll and came up laughing.

Drakkar gave her a dramatic bow, and she threw a fireball at him in response.

They were friends.

Close friends.

I could see how they hadn’t forgotten their childhood days even though they were separated for many years.

That, I could understand. That I could even admire.

But

What bothered me?

It was the way Vesper touched him — a hand on his shoulder, a shove to the chest, a smirk aimed at his grin — that made something inside me coil tight. She wasn’t trying to flirt. It wasn’t like that. She wasn’t all over him like the first time.

But it didn’t matter.

Because I was standing up here, in an elegant Queen’s gown, with a gold-trimmed shawl and delicate shoes that didn’t even make a sound on the marble. I looked the part of a ruler.

But not a warrior.

One of the firebursts down below nearly reached the observation balcony. The flames rolled upward in a shimmering column before dying out harmlessly. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t even blink.

Draken noticed me.

His red eyes flicked up to where I stood in the shadows, and for a moment — just a breath — our eyes met. He said nothing. Just gave the smallest tilt of his head, as if in acknowledgment.

Then he turned back to the fight.

I pursed my lips. This was annoying. I knew I couldn’t fight like them and it shouldn’t bother me because I am not a combat fighter.

And I also knew I was only thinking like this because of how Vesper, another female, was having fun with them.

Yes

It was that.

Draegon and I have certainly grown closer, but we don’t have any activity that we have done together which he would enjoy like this one.

I could see how refreshed he was after sparring with Vesper.

And I desperately wished he would feel like that with me too. I wish we could do something together which would make him smile like that too.

I clenched my fists on the railing as I kept watching them, but the unease in my heart grew.

I had to get out of here.

The training field had quieted. The flares of fire were dimming now, the smoke settling like mist across the scorched stone. I could still feel the warmth on my skin — or maybe it was just the simmering in my blood.

I didn’t realize how tightly I was clenching the balcony railing until I forced my hands to release it.

"Enough," I whispered to myself.

I turned to leave—

And nearly jumped out of my skin.

!!!

A sharp gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

Ariston stood just inches from me, silent as a shadow. I hadn’t even heard him approach. Tall and still, his arms loosely crossed, his white cloak rustling faintly in the breeze.

He didn’t glance at me. His red eyes remained locked on the courtyard below.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to quiet the startled pounding of my heart. "Don’t sneak up on people like that," I hissed under my breath, swallowing back the lingering embarrassment.

Still, he said nothing.

Hmm?

My frown deepened. I turned to look at him properly — and that’s when I noticed it.

His lips were pursed into a sharp, disapproving line. His jaw, always finely sculpted, was clenched tight. That composed mask he always wore had cracked just enough to reveal something beneath.

Frustration.

Anger.

He was angry at something.

I followed his gaze back down to the training field.

The flames were all but gone now. Draegon had slung a towel over his shoulder and was making his way back inside, Draken in tow, already deep in what looked like a heated discussion. But the other two—

Vesper and Drakkar lingered behind.

Drakkar had dropped into a lazy sprawl on the stone steps, shirtless and laughing about something. And Vesper..., Vesper was right next to him, one hand pressed to the back of his neck as she leaned in, her fingers threading through his hair like she’d done it a thousand times before.

Then she ruffled it.

Not a flirt. Not a seduction.

Just a natural, easy touch.

And Drakkar didn’t even flinch.

He smirked.

Ariston’s red eyes flared, barely perceptible but there — like twin volcanos hardening in the haze.

I blinked, suddenly understanding.

He wasn’t angry at me.

He hadn’t even noticed me.

He’d been watching them.

Her.

Like I... I’d been watching Draegon.

My eyes shifted back to Ariston — his clenched fists, the muscle ticking along his jaw, the way he stood frozen in place, not blinking, not moving.

I wondered if he even realized I was still standing next to him. Oh, what am I saying? He must know but the scene in front of him seemed to have him in an angry daze.

Part of me wanted to say something. Maybe make a joke. Maybe pretend I hadn’t just caught him staring like his heart was unraveling in real time.

But I didn’t.

Because I understood.

That quiet, sour ache in my chest? The way I’d felt seeing Vesper touch Draegon like it meant nothing? That same ache was written all over Ariston’s face now. Maybe it bothered him more because Vesper was more touchy with Drakkar.

We stood there — two people cast in gold light and shadows.

Down below, Vesper was still laughing.

And Drakkar was still letting her touch him.

I couldn’t help it, "Does it make you angry?" I asked softly, my eyes on my guard.

!!!

He snapped back to reality and looked at me, "..." He seemed a little uneasy but then he chose to lie, "No,"

"Ariston," I didn’t like what he did, "Don’t lie to me," I know it was for his personal reason, but I can’t have the first person I trusted suddenly lie to me even though it is about his own stuff, "Ever,"

He bowed his head, "I’m sorry,"

I let out a sigh, "It’s okay," I then looked at the two who were now making their way back in, "I know it’s frustrating."

He looked at them too, "..." He didn’t answer.

I tapped my arm, "Isn’t there anything we can do?" I let my thoughts out, "I feel like nowadays, I’m the only one who feels like this."

It was like Ariston’s whole face lit up and he turned to look at me with a smirk

"Can’t we?"