Chapter 14: The Thread That Glows
The palace was restless.
Since the test, since the glow, since Thalion's defense—Alaida had become more than a curiosity. She was a question. A possibility. A threat.
But she didn't change.
She still walked barefoot through the garden. Still knelt by the fountain. Still whispered to the vines as if they could answer. And slowly, the palace began to respond.
The silver-leaved tree bloomed again—this time with blossoms that pulsed faintly at night, like stars caught in petals. The fountain's water ran clearer. The air smelled of lavender and rain.
Servants lingered near her, not to serve, but to listen.
She didn't cast spells.
She didn't command.
She simply… was.
---
Thalion watched from the balcony.
He had dreamed of her again.
This time, she stood in the throne hall, her hands glowing, her eyes filled with light. The lion statues bowed. The crown cracked.
He woke with sweat on his brow and silence in his throat.
He didn't know what she was becoming.
He only knew he couldn't look away.
---
That evening, Alaida found a wounded bird in the garden.
Its wing was bent, its breath shallow. She cradled it gently, whispering words she didn't remember learning. Her hands glowed faintly—just for a moment. The bird stirred. Then flew.
Thalion saw it.
He stepped from the shadows, his voice low. "You healed it."
Alaida looked up. "I didn't mean to."
Thalion's gaze was unreadable. "You're changing everything."
She stood, her white lashes catching the moonlight. "Then let everything change."
He reached for her hand.
And this time, it glowed beneath his touch.