Three days later, the royal capital received another delegation from the northern forest—warriors clad in ice-bone armor, calling themselves "Scions of Remaining Bones"—descendants of the "Frosted Bone Clan," exiled by the Holy Church a century ago and thought nearly extinct.
They requested an audience with the Snow-Flame Monarch.
The delegation's leader, Seros, had silver hair and golden eyes, his voice cold as frost, his gaze locking directly on Aveline upon the throne.
"We are not traitors," he said. "We were sealed by the Holy Church with blood pacts for a century, forced to hide in frozen wastelands, feeding on undead bones. Now that flames rekindle in the north, we offer fragments of our clan's soul in exchange for an oath of rebirth."
He held out a soul stone etched with blue-silver patterns, its cold aura so intense it repelled the flame-rune fire barrier.
Lucian's eyes turned icy. He stepped forward immediately: "Is this an alliance… or a threat to the royal flame?"
Seros's lips curved, gaze : "I've come to gamble—whether the Snow-Flame Queen is crueler than the Holy Church."
Aveline rose, her red gown trailing like flowing blood-flame. She approached, taking the soul stone. Her fingertips whitened instantly, but she never flinched.
"Between cold bones and hot flames," she murmured, "those who know fire best are not always those born in it… but those who survived it."
She fixed Seros with a steady stare: "If you swear alliance, seal it with a flame mark at Mirror Lake. But hide one word of truth… and I'll shatter your bones and destroy your spirit."
Seros knelt on one knee, smile unwavering: "Then I stake my entire clan's lives on your promise."
Night Beneath the Flames
That evening, Aveline ordered the Silver Oath Knights to convene a secret council in the Royal Flame Tower. Generals, cabinet members, shadow guards, and fire riders gathered, with Seros and the Frosted Bone delegation in attendance.
Lucian remained silent, watching Seros's every smile and glance toward the throne. He knew this man sought more than alliance—he tested cracks in the crown.
After the council, Aveline ordered Seros to stay in the side hall alone.
"He wants to gamble?" she said. "I'll let him gamble fully."
Lucian stood outside, voice cold: "How many can you still trust?"
She turned: "I trust only results."
Lucian stepped closer, pulling her into his arms, hand sliding beneath her skirt, teeth gritted: "If you let him touch you even once, I'll make you pay for it all night in bed."
Aveline laughed against his ear: "Are you afraid, Flame Lord?"
She pressed a soft kiss to his lips: "You are not my flame… you are the last unextinguished bone in my heart."
Lucian lost all patience, yanking open the hall door and half-dragging, half-carrying her to the flame-lit couch.
Private Fire in the Chamber
Chamber flames danced, crimson curtains drawn low.
Lucian stripped off his battle robe, revealing a muscular chest and scarred shoulders, his gaze blazing. He pinned her down, roughly tearing her gown open.
Aveline lay naked in the firelight, her pale skin flushed. He spread her legs, his lips and tongue trailing from her knee to her inner thigh, stopping at her wet core.
She gasped and trembled, yet taunted: "You're… more desperate than usual tonight?"
Lucian licked her sensitive pearl, growling: "Because you looked at him with those eyes."
Before she could reply, he sealed his mouth over her clit, sucking hard.
Her moans rose sharply; fingers clutching the fire ,her hips arched uncontrollably. He added two fingers, pumping slowly, drawing whimpers from her.
"Remember this, Aveline," he met her gaze, wolf-like, "every inch of you bears my flame's mark."
He thrust into her fully, his movements fierce.
She cried out, pleasure overwhelming her mind. Firelight caught their tangled bodies, each thrust a clash of power and a purge of souls.
Climax crashed over her in spasms. He bit her shoulder, murmuring:
"Flame never dies, bone never fades. You are my queen, and I am your only fire of desire."
Ember Oath Alliance Shifts
Deep into night, Seros stood alone before the flame array at Mirror Lake, gazing at stars and moon. Robe rustles sounded behind him—it was Illya.
He turned, smiling: "The Silver Oath leader finally appears?"
Illya stared at him long before speaking coldly: "You planted that letter. You started this."
Seros's eyes glinted: "I merely helped you tear open the blind spot behind the queen—you belong where she truly needs you."
Illya gripped her silver sword: "Don't act."
"Relax," he laughed. "I'm moving hearts, not hands."
Illya turned to leave, her robe fluttering in the cold wind. She never saw the faint blue "Crescent Rift Seal" glowing on the bone ring at his .