CHAPTER 31: CONFESSION

SOREN

I hadn’t expected it.

Her voice had been quiet, almost reluctant, but I’d heard it all the same. Thank you.

The words clung to me long after she walked away. Eris never said things like that, as far as I knew it, not to me, not to anyone. For a woman the world called heartless, her gratitude sounded like a confession.

And yet it left me unsatisfied. Flattered, yes, but aching all the same.

I remembered her the way she had burned. Fire bleeding from every inch of her, flames so wild the air itself seemed to scream. Even then, the heat hadn’t been enough to melt me. My frost never faltered. But the look in her eyes... I couldn’t forget that.

Tears had rimmed them, never falling, never given the chance. They evaporated before they could touch her cheeks. That image had burned deeper into me than the fire itself.

And then there was the moment I reached her hand.

For the briefest breath, I saw something. A vision not of my own making. Eris, her own flames consuming her, her body breaking apart as Caelen’s sword pierced her chest. The sound of her crying, raw and hollow, still clawed at the edges of my memory. And the grief that followed... it had nearly ripped me apart. It felt all too familiar. Like the past I was desperately trying to run from.

I clenched my fist as I walked. The training ground stretched ahead, the clang of steel already filling the air, but I hardly noticed. My mind was still with her.

I wanted to ask her. About what I saw. About what it meant. About her.

But Eris was cold to me. Colder than she had ever been, though I was the emperor of ice. Ironic. Almost cruel.

Still... I couldn’t shake the feeling that her fire had left its mark on me, deeper than I cared to admit.

By the time I reached the training grounds, the air was thick with noise.

Swords clashing. Boots pounding against sand. The grunts of men testing strength against strength.

I stopped by the rail, watching as two soldiers fought in the ring... one of mine, and one from Solmire. The crowd around them roared, cheering and cursing in equal measure. The Solmirans were good at fighting, but my men fought like the ground was theirs to die on.

"Looks like I’ve been teaching them too well," I murmured, stepping beside the man who’d been overseeing the match.

Captain Ryse turned sharply at my voice, young, sharp-eyed, with more heart than sense. "Your Majesty," he greeted, bowing a little before straightening. "They’ve been at it for ten minutes now. Both stubborn as stone."

I folded my arms, watching the duel continue. "How’s the city?"

He blinked at me, surprised by the question. "Still a mess, sir. They’re clearing the rubble from the south quarter. Casualties... less than expected, but still bad."

I nodded once. "And the people?"

"Restless," Ryse admitted, lowering his voice. "A lot of them are saying the Queen finally lost control."

That didn’t surprise me. I kept my eyes on the fight below. "What about witnesses?"

He hesitated. "That’s the strange part, sir. Every account’s different. Some say she was attacked. Others say she just... burst into flame. No one saw it start the same way. They just remember the fire... and her standing in the middle of it."

I said nothing for a long moment. The Solmiran soldier finally landed a blow that sent my man stumbling, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were elsewhere.

Eris had been normal. Cold, yes, but lucid. Composed. I’d spoken with her just moments before everything burned. She’d even laughed.

The woman who laughed softly beside me over a piece of spicy meat wasn’t the same one who lost herself to the fire. I knew that much.

"So no one really knows," I said quietly.

Ryse shook his head. "No one but Her Majesty herself, sir. But everyone’s telling it like they do. You know how they talk—’the Queen got angry,’ ’the Queen wanted blood.’ Same story, different words."

I gave a low hum of agreement. "Convenient."

"Yes, sir."

The clang of the duel ended as one of the soldiers dropped to a knee, panting. Ryse stepped forward to call the winner, but before he could, the murmurs in the field shifted. The sound of footsteps, heavy and familiar, carried across the sand.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Caelen.

He walked in like a storm, his face drawn tight, his hand never too far from his sword. His presence alone made the men stiffen.

I sighed quietly, brushing the frost from my sleeve.

"Speak of fire," I muttered, "and here comes the match to light it."

Caelen didn’t waste time. He never did.

The soldiers bowed and cleared the way, their boots scattering sand across the training ring as he came toward me. His eyes, those sharp, grey eyes, looked almost feverish in the sunlight.

He didn’t speak right away, just stood there long enough for me to sense that this wasn’t going to be a simple exchange.

"I came to thank you," he said at last, his tone clipped. "For stopping the fire."

I inclined my head. "You’re welcome friend."

He exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the ground before lifting them to me again. "But I don’t understand why you refused to let her be taken out of there. You wouldn’t even let the knights near her."

I kept my gaze level. "Because they would’ve hurt her more than helped her. She was half-conscious. Burning from the inside out. I wasn’t going to hand her to men who only see her as a monster."

His jaw tightened. "And what do you see her as, Soren?"

There it was — the part he’d really come for.

Before I could answer, he stepped closer. "You think because you stopped her, held her close, you know her now? You don’t. You have no idea what she is."

"I didn’t say I did," I replied quietly.

He scoffed, pacing a little. "Do you even realize what kind of talk is spreading in my palace now? About you and her?"

I blinked. "Rumors?"

"Servants claim they’ve seen you together. In the dead of the night." His words were heavy, biting. "You might not care what people whisper, but I can’t ignore it."

I almost laughed. "You sound like someone who doesn’t care what Eris does, yet somehow you know who she meets, where, and when."

That made him freeze. His eyes snapped to somewhat offended.

"I didn’t mean it like that," I said quickly, lifting a hand in half-defeat. "Just a poor joke."

He didn’t look convinced. He folded his arms, every muscle drawn tight.

"Stay away from her, Soren. I’m warning you... not as a threat, but as a friend. You don’t understand what she’s capable of."

I stayed silent.

"She lures people in," Caelen went on, voice lower now, almost trembling with the memory of something.

"She’s kind to them, just enough to make them forget what she really is. Then she devours them slowly. With cruelty you can’t imagine."

I frowned. I knew he was speaking from personal scars.

"I’ve seen it all too well," he said bitterly. "I’ve seen her burn men alive for kneeling too slow. I’ve seen her make a mother watch as she executed her son for stammering during a report. Once, she had a maid’s tongue cut out because she dared to weep in her presence." His voice shook, then steadied again. "So believe me when I say she’s not someone you want near you."

For a moment, I didn’t speak. Because I did believe him or at least, part of me wanted to. Eris was a tyrant. A cruel queen who’d made an entire kingdom tremble. I’d heard the stories, witnessed the scars she left behind.

But the woman who welcomed me on the day of my arrival, who spoke with reason... wasn’t that. Or maybe she was, just twisted differently now.

She reminded me too much of someone back in Nevareth, a woman I’d spent years trying to run from. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

"I understand your concern," I said finally. "And I’m sorry for defying your order at the market. It was your city, your people. I should’ve consulted you first."

Caelen’s expression softened slightly, though the tension still sat heavy between us.

"I’ll heed your warning," I added.

He studied me for a moment, then nodded once. "Good. For your sake, I hope you mean that."

When he turned to leave, I found myself staring at the frost still clinging to the stone floor, thinking not of his words, but of Eris’s eyes. The way they had looked at me that night, wide and human, just before she lost control.

If she truly was a monster, then I wasn’t sure why part of me still wanted to understand her.