The sky remained dark, yet the stars over the Snowflame Capital had lingered all night without setting. Atop the palace's highest tower, the spirit flame burned unceasingly.
The fragmentary words left by the Split Moon envoy, like a dull blade, slowly sliced into the depths of the queen's thoughts:
"The heir of the Flame shall awaken at the border of snow and fire."
What was "snow and fire"? And who would "inherit the blood of the Flame Lord"?
Evelyn stood atop the Western Tower of the capital, the wind lifting her flame robe, the mark on her forehead faintly burning. She still wore the soul shard over her heart, but since last night, the shard had been pulsing now and then, like a heartbeat.
"It's responding to me," she whispered. "But it's not my soul it answers—it's... the body."The First Signs of ChangeThe royal physicians had visited three times, all waiting outside the Flame Heart,only to be turned away by the queen.
In truth, Evelyn had heard a vague heartbeat in her dreams for three consecutive nights—not hers, nor Lucian's.
And with each beat, a faint yet burning echo stirred deep in her lower abdomen.
She knew her body was changing—not from injury, but from new life.
"Life conceived in flame."
"Once the flame vow is sealed, under the soul covenant, the fusion of three souls may give birth to... new fire."
This was an extreme soul phenomenon recorded in the ancient royal texts. Only one previous Flame Queen had reached this state, and she died the night before her flame-child was born.
Yet Evelyn felt no fear.
Her dread stemmed from another question:
Who is the father of the heir?
Lucian? Eira? Or... the residual soul of the Flame Realm?Cracks in DesireLate that night, Lucian entered the queen's alone.
Evelyn stood in the center of the flame pool, her back to him, naked in the half-light, fire illuminating the slender curves of her spine.
Lucian approached softly, wrapping his arms around her waist: "Were you waiting for me?"
Evelyn said nothing, only turned to face him, her gaze calm yet tinged with evasion.
He sensed the anomaly at once.
"What are you thinking about?"
"The heir," Evelyn answered. "Split Moon wasn't bluffing. They know something."
Lucian frowned, pressing a finger to her abdomen—and felt a faint warmth.
He froze, complex emotions flooding his eyes.
"You're... with child?"
Evelyn met his gaze.
"Perhaps."
"Whose is it?" Lucian's voice dropped lower.
Evelyn did not reply. She merely placed her palm on her abdomen, gently tracing a flame pattern.
Just then—
The palace door suddenly slid open.
Eira, still fully armored, her silver eyes cold, stepped in: "What are you discussing?"
Lucian looked up, all softness gone from his eyes, replaced by sharp intensity: "You've arrived at the right time."
The air instantly.
For the first time between them, there was no longer the unity of the vow seal—only a clash of wills.
Eira moved to Evelyn's side, placing her hand on the queen's abdomen. A flame pattern immediately appeared, but with a resonant frequency different from Lucian's.
"Whoever's it is..." she murmured, "I will protect them."
Evelyn closed her eyes, whispering: "I don't need you to protect me. I need you—to be loyal."
The air crackled like splitting fire.
This conversation had no conclusion—only deeper surges of desire and mental wrestling.A New Foe LurksMeanwhile, far beyond the sealed borders of the Eastern Flame Realm.
A white-haired slowly opened his eyes.
Golden flames burned in his pupils, yet there was no trace of human emotion. Behind him lay the collapsed Split Moon Temple; ahead, the main road leading to the Flame Capital.
"I smell her scent."
"The woman who shredded souls."
He turned, a wisp of flame trailing from his palm to form a bone-flame double blade.
The believers behind him whispered reverently:
"Lord Kael—blood of the Split Moon King, rekindled flame of the Flame King."
He smiled, the curve of his lips barely perceptible:
"No—I am not the embers of Split Moon."
"I am—the true igniter of the Flame's descendants."Epilogue: The Flame Fetus StirrsDeep into the night.
Evelyn sat alone on the throne, hand resting on her abdomen, her flame breath rising and falling like a tide.
She could already feel it—that the flame was not driven by her will alone, but by some deeper, unknown bloodline.
She heard the voice whisper again:
"Mother."
She opened her eyes, her flame-pupils blazing.
"Come."
"If you are the heir of me and them—then bring this world, a new heaven-scorching fire."