~ Selene ~
Bringing Kairo into the guard was, as a queen, a rational decision I made after weighing the political pros and cons. I kept reminding myself that this was a means of control, a strategy to keep unpredictable factors under my watch. I believed I had the strength and willpower to tame this wild horse that suddenly intruded upon my territory, to make him useful to me while soothing Elarek's growing unease.
Yet, I overestimated the resilience of my will, or perhaps I underestimated the tyrannical power of the 'Fated Bond.'
It was not as violent as a storm, but rather, like a frog boiling in warm water, it silently and imperceptibly eroded me.
At first, it was trivial details. When reviewing documents, I would occasionally lose focus, and his burning amber eyes would inexplicably emerge in my mind. As I strolled through the palace, my senses would uncontrollably sharpen, allowing me to easily discern his unique scent—a blend of frost and wildness—from among hundreds of guards.
My wolf, Kyra, grew increasingly restless. She no longer lay dormant as usual but often paced and growled in my mind, like a beast bound by invisible chains, yearning to rush towards the source of power that could make her whole.
What truly terrified me was the onset of Blood Fever.
It was not an actual illness, but a scorching agitation arising from the depths of my bloodline. It made my blood seem to surge and boil, caused my heart to beat erratically, and left my thoughts chaotic and unfocused. I was still a queen, still capable of making decisions, but the process became unusually arduous, as if I were observing the world through frosted glass.
This condition reached its peak during a critical trade negotiation with the Greystone Tribe.
It was a grueling three-hour tug-of-war. The envoy on the opposing side was cunning and greedy, with traps hidden in every clause. In the past, with Elarek by my side, our synchronized efforts—one stern, the other soft—would force our opponents into a framework of our design. But today, I couldn't manage it.
The fiery sensation in my blood made it hard to focus, and the envoy's endless chatter turned into an irritating buzz in my ears. When Elarek, seated next to me, signaled with his eyes that the envoy's offer was deceitful and softly suggested a counter-strategy, I blurted out a sharp retort instead: "Enough, Elarek! Your caution is about to ruin this deal!"
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
The conference hall fell into a dead silence. The envoy from the Greystone Tribe was visibly surprised and secretly delighted. As for Elarek, he simply stared at me in disbelief, his eyes filled with hurt and confusion. For the first time in five years, I had publicly and harshly dismissed his judgment.
Forcing down the turmoil within, I hastily ended the negotiations, postponing the final decision to the next day. I practically fled the council chamber.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I lay on the soft bed, beside Elarek's silent and rigid body. I knew he was awake, also tormented by the day's events. My heart was heavy with guilt. I wanted to lean over as I always did, seeking his comfort or apologizing to him. But I couldn't. The agitation from Blood Fever made me reject all forms of intimacy, even his.
Eventually, unable to bear the suffocating silence, I got up and walked to the terrace. The icy night wind brushed against my cheeks, but it couldn't extinguish the fire burning within me. Gripping the stone railing, I felt a wave of powerlessness. I, the queen of The Silver Moon Wolf Pack, for the first time, realized that I couldn't completely control my own body.
At that moment, a haunting, desolate melody drifted from a corner of the courtyard below. It was a tune played on a Bone Flute; the melody was simple yet seemed to carry some ancient magic. Unlike the elegant harp pieces Elarek played for me, this was like a cool mountain spring, precisely soothing my feverish, turbulent blood.
My heartbeat gradually steadied with the music, and the chaotic thoughts in my mind began to clear.
Instinctively, I looked downward. In the moonlight, Kairo was seated alone on a wooden stake in the training ground, head tilted as he played the Bone Flute. He seemed completely immersed in his own world, the music a mourning of his destroyed homeland, a stream of his inner loneliness.
He wasn't playing for me. But his sadness healed my pain.
I gazed at his figure, and for the first time, a dangerous and absurd thought arose in my mind: "Can he sense my pain?"
This idea filled me with an inexplicable fear, as if I had stumbled upon some forbidden secret. I immediately turned away, drawing the heavy curtains shut to block out both the music and the figure.
The next day, I proactively apologized to Elarek. He accepted, though a faint shadow of hurt lingered in his eyes. To ease the tension between us, or perhaps out of guilt, he personally prepared my favorite Snowpeak Flower Tea, using his finest, most treasured batch.
Holding the steaming cup of tea in my hands, my emotions were a tangled mess. Just as I was about to drink this symbol of reconciliation, my maid Lina entered, her expression somewhat odd.
"Your Majesty," she said after bowing, holding a wooden tray in her hands, "Vice Commander Kairo asked me to deliver this to you."
On the tray lay a Bone Flute, freshly carved from some pure white animal bone. Its simple design emanated a faint, cold sheen.
"He said," Lina hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "he said he heard the queen had difficulty sleeping last night. This Requiem Flute is a soothing object from his homeland, and he hopes it might bring you a moment of peace."
My heart sank.
How could he know? Was it a coincidence, or could he truly sense everything about me?
His gesture, seemingly able to pierce through my soul's essence with uncanny precision, rendered Elarek's painstaking care clumsy and ineffective. Half of me was filled with anger and vigilance at having my secrets exposed. The other half, beyond my control, brimmed with an indescribable longing born from being understood.
Waving for Lina to leave, I was left alone in the vast room.
I placed the two items side by side on the table.
On the left was Elarek's Snowpeak Flower Tea, still steaming, exuding its familiar, comforting fragrance. It represented our warm, five-year bond, a symbol of reason, companionship, and painstakingly maintained happiness.
On the right was Kairo's Bone Flute—cold, hard, and brimming with primal, dangerous allure. It represented mystery, instinct, and an irresistible destiny.
My gaze shifted back and forth between the two. I knew what I should choose, what I must choose. I was Selene, the queen, Elarek's partner.
But my hand, as if it had a will of its own, slowly, uncontrollably reached for the right. My fingertips yearned to touch that cold, unfamiliar bone.
Just before contact, I abruptly withdrew my hand, as if burned by fire, my fingertips trembling slightly.
I stared at my hand in horror, then at the Bone Flute lying silently before me.
For the first time, I realized that the unyielding boundaries I had drawn for my kingdom were so fragile. Because the true enemy wasn't external—it had quietly taken root deep within my heart.