She thought the worst was over.
But some spells don't end.
They evolve.
The throne pulsed beneath her like a heartbeat.
Not hers.
Sol's.
He had become the language she used to rule, yes
but he had also become the memory the spell refused to forget.
And memory is dangerous.
It clings.
The hall had emptied after her coronation, but Kairon remained.
Sword unsheathed.
Eyes unreadable.
Heart… louder than any battlefield.
"You've claimed the Empire," he said. "And I stood by."
"You didn't stand," she murmured. "You watched."
"Because I didn't know if you'd survive it."
"You didn't think I'd choose Sol."
"I knew you would," he said. "I just didn't want to watch you break to do it."
Her eyes burned but not from tears.
From the ink sigils that now glowed beneath her skin.
Sol's spell wasn't finished.
Because power like hers wasn't complete without conflict.
And the next name the magic whispered to her?
Was Kairon.
"The spell… it's not done feeding," she said quietly.
"It wants another soul to finish the glyph."
"Then take mine," he said instantly.
"Don't you dare say that so easily."
"You think I care about my life?"
"I think," she whispered, "that you care more about my guilt than your death."
The magic inside her roared.
Sol's language twisting through her ribs.
A new glyph had begun forming beside the first
And it had Kairon's name inked into the core.
She could stop it.
If she found another way.
But the spell was ancient. Blood-bound. Tied to the foundation of her throne.
Either she gave it Kairon…
Or it would start tearing apart the world he fought to protect.
Suddenly, Kairon was in front of her.
Closer than he should be.
Hands out. Voice calm.
"If it's me," he said, "then don't hesitate."
"Why?" she asked, broken and divine.
"Because if I die by your hand," he murmured, "at least I'll finally belong to you in a way no one else ever will."
And then he smiled.
Like a prince not afraid to burn.
But she wasn't ready to lose again.
So she stood.
Fighting the spell.
Twisting Sol's glyph. Rewriting it mid-air.
"You don't get to decide my pain for me," she whispered.
"Then tell me how to help"
"You already did," she snapped. "You stayed."
And then the magic fractured
Spilled out like ink across the floor.
Because for the first time, she defied the spell it thought was hers to serve.
She didn't give it what it wanted.
She gave it something worse
A promise.
A vow to rewrite the laws it was built on.
With her power.
With her grief.
With her fury.