Chapter 204: Blazing Hot Fire
Theron’s spirit lifted with that thought.
He had Aveline. Even if all else failed, he had her!
Confidence boost, change in demeanor.
"Do you know," he said quietly, "what I find remarkable, Lord Chancellor?"
The older man arched a brow.
"That every noble presently hoarding cotton claims to be safeguarding his family’s future." Theron’s gaze sharpened. "And yet none seem concerned about whether there will be a kingdom left to inherit if the people freeze."
A flicker crossed the Chancellor’s face, though it vanished almost immediately. "The people endure," he said dismissively. "They always have."
"They endure because they have no choice."
"And rulers survive because they understand necessity."
Theron took a slow step forward. "No," he said. "Rulers survive because the people permit them to."
Silence settled over the corridor.
The Chancellor studied him carefully. "An interesting sentiment," he said. "One might almost mistake it for idealism."
"One might mistake your greed for prudence."
Several guards visibly stiffened.
The Chancellor’s eyes narrowed.
"You speak boldly for a prince who possesses neither allies nor influence enough to solve this crisis."
Theron smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
"You misunderstand my position."
"Oh?"
"I am not here because I lack alternatives." Theron’s voice remained calm, controlled. "I am here because I wished to give you an opportunity."
The Chancellor’s expression faltered for the first time.
"An opportunity?"
"To stand with the Crown willingly."
Kael shifted almost imperceptibly in the shadows.
Theron continued, his tone perfectly measured.
"When winter comes, people remember many things, Lord Chancellor. They remember who helped them. They remember who abandoned them."
His gaze dropped briefly to the Chancellor’s embroidered robes.
"And they remember who profited from their suffering."
The older noble’s face darkened.
"Is that a threat?"
"No."
Theron looked him directly in the eye.
"It is a prediction."
The words were soft. Soft enough that they should not have sounded threatening. Yet every person in the corridor felt the chill that followed.
The Chancellor held his gaze for several seconds before finally stepping aside. "We shall see, Your Highness."
"We shall."
Saying that, Theron turned and walked away, his cloak sweeping behind him in a dark arc. Kael fell into step beside him, silent as always.
They walked through corridor after corridor, putting distance between themselves and the throne room. Only when they had long passed beyond the reach of curious ears and hidden listeners did Kael finally speak.
"Sire," he said cautiously, "was that wise?"
Theron let out a slow breath.
"Not really," he admitted. "But winter is coming."
Kael frowned.
"He might release the cotton in Prince Alaric’s name," he said. "If that happens..."
He trailed off, not daring to finish the thought.
If the Lord Chancellor distributed the supplies under the bastard prince’s banner, gratitude would follow. The people would remember who had fed them and kept them warm. Alaric’s reputation would soar, and with it, so would whispers throughout the kingdom.
Perhaps the King’s bastard would make a better heir.
Perhaps the Crown Prince was not needed at all.
Kael glanced sideways at Theron, expecting anger, frustration, perhaps even bitterness.
Instead, he saw the prince smile.
The expression was so unexpected that Kael nearly stumbled.
"Then the people will stay warm through the winter," Theron said simply.
Kael stared.
Theron looked ahead as they descended the palace steps, the cold autumn wind brushing against his face.
He truly did not care.
Not about the throne.
Not about succession.
Not anymore.
There had been a time when the crown had been everything. He had shaped every part of himself for it, endured every lesson, every expectation, every disappointment. He had sacrificed pieces of himself one by one in pursuit of that distant seat.
But somewhere along the way, something had changed.
Or rather, someone had changed it.
Aveline.
The thought of her rose in his heart with startling ease, warming places inside him that had long been cold.
Her laughter.
Her stubbornness.
The way she argued with him as though he were simply Theron and not the Crown Prince of Greenvale.
The way she looked at him, not with ambition or calculation, but with genuine affection.
She was enough.
Even if he lost everything else, he would still have her.
And somehow, that thought made him feel richer than any king.
Theron’s steps slowed.
Perhaps that was why confronting the Chancellor had felt different today. For the first time in years, he had spoken without the desperate need to prove himself worthy of a crown. He had spoken because people needed him to.
Because it was right.
And because somewhere, Aveline would expect nothing less of him.
His lips curved faintly.
Maybe...
Maybe he should visit her tonight.
The thought alone lightened his mood so noticeably that even Kael looked startled.
"Sire?" he asked carefully.
Theron glanced at him, still wearing that faint, unfamiliar smile.
"Nothing," he said.
But Kael knew that expression by now. The prince was thinking about her again.
-----
It was the day of the raid, and by nightfall they would have to move.
Aveline stood in front of the straw target Aelion had set before her, staring at it with a blank, increasingly offended expression. For the past week, she had tried everything he told her to do. She had tried to quiet her mind, to gather serenity, to summon the strange inner rage he insisted she needed, to breathe in the right pattern, to hold the right stance, to feel the current moving through her body as if it were something ordinary and attainable.
Nothing happened.
Again and again, she had failed.
Again and again, Aelion had made her repeat the same posture, the same breathing exercise, the same maddening advice.
"Do you feel it, Ava?" he asked now, his voice patient in the way that made her want to bite him. "The energy moving inside you? Rid of everything. Feel that nothingness, and look deep within."
The same instructions. The same failure. The same tightening in her chest.
Aveline closed her eyes and settled into the stance once more. Her body had grown so familiar with it that she no longer had to think about the placement of her feet or the angle of her arms.
And today, instead of trying to empty her mind the way Aelion wanted, her thoughts betrayed her immediately.
Theron.
Of course, it was Theron.
She thought of the brightness in him, that strange light he commanded, and the light she had always felt when he was near. She thought of how he looked when he smiled, how unfairly beautiful he was when he was serious, how much his presence steadied something in her even when she was trying very hard not to depend on it.
The memory of him came to her so vividly that it almost felt like warmth spreading beneath her skin.
And then something changed.
It was sudden, almost violent.
A surge rose from somewhere deep inside her, so intense that it made her breath catch. It rushed through her core and up her arm, gathering in her hand with a force she had never felt before.
The air seemed to tighten around her fingertips. The sensation was not like the soft, familiar pull of shadow. It was hotter. Sharper. Restless, yet controlled. It felt as though fire and lightning had both answered her at once, and neither of them had bothered to decide which one was more in charge.
Then it burst.
Ablazing.
The strawman exploded into pieces, the scattered straw igniting as it flew. A nearby tree cracked and toppled with a violent snap, and in the distance a boulder split apart with a sharp, shuddering crack. For one stunned second, the air itself seemed to hum.
Aveline opened her eyes.
In her palm hovered a blazing sphere of white-hot fire, threaded through with flickering lightning that danced and coiled like living veins. It was so bright she could barely look directly at it. So strange and violent and beautiful that for one impossible moment she could not tell whether she was holding fire or lightning or something entirely between the two.
Aelion broke his stance at once and stared at her with wide eyes.
"What was that?" he asked, genuinely stunned.
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