The palace did not sleep.
It pretended to.
Lights dimmed, corridors quieted, servants whispered instead of spoke — but beneath it all, the building hummed with tension like a storm trapped inside stone.
Tomorrow, the King of Aqura would be married.
Not to the woman he loved.
But to the woman who had claimed him.
Aerin sat on the edge of his bed staring at his boots.
He had been staring at them for a very long time.
They were polished. Formal. Ridiculous. They looked like something worn by a king who knew where he was going.
Aerin did not.
"Elira," he said quietly.
Elira, perched upside-down on a beam in the ceiling, stopped sharpening her blade.
"Yes?"
"Please don't kill anyone tonight."
Elira frowned. "That is unreasonable."
"Please," Aerin added weakly.
Elira considered this with the seriousness of someone weighing the ethics of murder.
"…I will not kill anyone important."
"That's worse."
"I will only scare."
"Also worse."
Elira sighed. "You are emotionally fragile."
"I am emotionally doomed."
From the doorway, Mira watched them with the calm expression of someone who refused to be pulled into chaos.
"Aerin," she said gently.
He looked up instantly.
"Hi."
"May I come in?"
"Yes. Please. Always."
Elira dropped from the beam and immediately walked toward the door.
"I will guard outside," she announced. "No assassinations. Only emotional warfare."
Mira nodded. "Thank you."
Elira paused.
"…You are welcome."
Then she closed the door softly behind her.
Aerin and Mira stood in the quiet of the room.
It was strange how quiet felt louder than noise.
"You don't look terrified," Aerin said.
Mira folded her hands. "I am."
"You're hiding it very well."
"I'm choosing not to show it."
He smiled faintly. "That's… brave."
Mira stepped closer.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
"I know."
They sat on the edge of the bed together.
Not touching.
Close enough to feel warmth.
"They're forcing this through," Aerin said quietly. "The council. Thryndel. Everyone."
Mira nodded. "Yes."
"I don't know how to stop it."
Mira looked at him.
"I do."
He turned toward her.
"The law," she said. "They think it belongs to them. It doesn't. It belongs to you."
Aerin swallowed.
"You're planning something."
"Yes."
"Does it involve explosions?"
"No."
Elira's voice from outside the door: "I can make it involve explosions."
"No," Aerin and Mira said together.
Mira smiled slightly.
Aerin stared at her.
"You're so calm."
"I have to be," she replied. "If I break, she wins."
He nodded.
"I don't want to lose you."
Mira's gaze softened.
"You won't," she said. "Not really."
Aerin's breath hitched.
"Even if I marry her?"
"Yes."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because love isn't a contract," Mira replied. "And she doesn't own what she didn't earn."
Aerin closed his eyes.
That almost hurt more than comfort.
Outside, Elira sharpened her knife louder.
Valessara stood on the balcony overlooking the city, silk robes flowing like a banner of conquest.
One of her advisors approached carefully.
"The palace is tense," he said. "They are watching."
"Good," Valessara replied. "Let them."
"You are pushing too hard."
Valessara smiled thinly. "I am asserting dominance."
"You are creating enemies."
Valessara turned slowly.
"I am marrying a kingdom," she said. "Enemies are inevitable."
"Even the King?"
"He will learn."
Her gaze drifted toward the east wing where Aerin's chambers lay.
"He will kneel," she murmured.
In the council hall, Merrowin and Halbrecht stood locked in an argument.
"We cannot allow this to continue," Halbrecht hissed.
"She has Thryndel's armies behind her," Merrowin replied. "We need a legal opening."
"And if there isn't one?"
Merrowin's eyes sharpened. "Then we create one."
Elira crouched outside Aerin's door.
Cassian approached quietly.
"You're guarding?"
"Yes."
"From what?"
"Marriage."
Cassian nodded. "Fair."
Elira looked at him. "Do you love Mira?"
Cassian hesitated.
"Not like that."
Elira considered. "Good. If you did, I would have a conflict."
Cassian blinked. "That's not comforting."
Elira tilted her head. "It is honest."
Later, Mira left Aerin's room.
They did not kiss.
They did not cry.
They simply looked at each other one last time before the storm.
"I will see you tomorrow," Mira said.
"Yes," Aerin whispered.
And the palace held its breath.
Because tomorrow, everything would break.
The bells of Aqura rang like the city itself was holding its breath.
Wedding bells.
Not gentle ones.
Not romantic ones.
These were loud, dramatic, slightly panicked bells—exactly the kind that suggested a kingdom about to make a terrible mistake.
Aerin stood in the antechamber of the Grand Cathedral staring at his reflection.
He looked… presentable.
Which somehow felt worse than if he looked like a disaster.
Gold-trimmed ceremonial coat. Royal sash. A crown that sat too heavily on his head. He looked like a king.
He didn't feel like one.
He felt like a man about to be politely swallowed alive.
"Elira, please stop sharpening things," Aerin muttered.
Elira crouched on a bench, polishing a dagger with a cloth that had once been white.
"It calms me," she replied. "Marriage is a violent concept."
"That is not how anyone else experiences it."
"That is because they are wrong."
Cassian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, dressed in formal military wear. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes, I do," Aerin said quietly. "The kingdom—"
"—will survive," Cassian said. "You might not."
Aerin smiled weakly. "You're comforting."
Mira stood near the door, calm, elegant, composed as ever.
Not dressed for a wedding.
Dressed for dignity.
She met Aerin's eyes.
No tears.
No desperation.
Just truth.
"You look ridiculous," she said gently.
Aerin laughed despite himself. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all morning."
The cathedral doors boomed open.
"It's time," Merrowin called.
The music began.
And so did the worst decision of Aerin's life.
The Grand Cathedral of Aqura was overflowing.
Nobles in velvet.
Foreign envoys in stiff robes.
Merchants who smelled faintly of money.
Common citizens in the balconies watching history like it was theater.
Valessara stood at the altar, flawless and cold.
Aerin walked down the aisle alone.
Every step felt like walking deeper into a story he didn't want to be in.
The Harem Alarm hung near the ceiling, oddly silent, like it was waiting for something.
Valessara turned and smiled when she saw him.
Not warmly.
Possessively.
"You made it," she murmured. "Try not to trip."
"I usually save that for oil," Aerin whispered back.
The officiant raised his hands.
"Today," he began, "we join two sovereign powers—"
"—one of which is currently terrified," Cassian muttered loudly from the audience.
Aerin shot him a look.
Cassian gave a thumbs-up.
The ceremony continued.
Words about unity.
Power.
Legacy.
Oil, probably, in spirit if not in text.
Then came the moment.
"If anyone objects to this union," the officiant intoned, "speak now, or forever hold their peace."
Silence.
One second.
Two.
Three—
A voice rang out.
"I OBJECT!"
Everyone gasped.
A man leapt to his feet in the back row—a wild-eyed noble with hair too big for his head.
"This marriage is WRONG!" he shouted.
Guards immediately rushed him.
Valessara rolled her eyes. "Drag him out."
The man was lifted bodily.
"You can't silence LOVE!" he screamed as he was hauled away.
The doors slammed.
The room exhaled.
The officiant cleared his throat.
"As I was—"
"I OBJECT."
This time, the voice came from somewhere much closer.
All eyes turned.
Elira was standing in the aisle.
Holding a knife.
Not threateningly.
Just… holding it.
"I object," she said calmly.
Cassian face-palmed.
Aerin groaned. "Elira, please."
Valessara stared. "Who let the murder girl in?"
"I am part of the court," Elira replied. "I am emotionally invested."
The guards approached her cautiously.
Elira looked at them.
They stopped.
"I have prepared a statement," Elira continued, pulling out a folded piece of paper with bloodstains on the corner.
Mira closed her eyes.
"This marriage is illegitimate," Elira read, "because she is terrible."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"That's not—" the officiant began.
Elira held up a finger. "I am not finished."
Valessara's face darkened. "Remove her."
Two guards tried.
Elira dodged them like smoke.
Cassian sighed. "She trained for this."
Elira leapt onto a pew.
"This woman," she declared, pointing at Valessara, "is cruel. She insults servants. She threatens children. She said plants should obey."
Gasps.
Valessara snapped, "She's insane!"
Elira nodded. "Yes. But I am also accurate."
The guards finally grabbed her.
Elira allowed it.
Because she was done.
As she was dragged away, she called out:
"I will still try later!"
Aerin buried his face in his hands.
The officiant, sweating, tried again.
"Does anyone else object?"
A calm voice answered.
"Yes."
Mira stepped forward.
The entire cathedral went still.
Valessara turned slowly. "You?"
Mira met her gaze without flinching.
"I object on legal grounds."
Merrowin straightened.
The council leaned forward.
The officiant blinked. "What grounds?"
Mira lifted a scroll.
"The Charter of Aquran Sovereignty," she said, "clearly states that the King may take multiple consorts or wives if political necessity demands it."
A ripple went through the room.
Valessara's eyes widened.
Mira continued calmly, "You are not marrying him for love. You are marrying him for power. Therefore this is a political union."
"Yes," Valessara said smugly. "And?"
"And therefore," Mira said, "he is legally permitted to marry another."
A hush fell.
Aerin stared at her.
"You mean—"
"I mean," Mira said softly, "you don't have to choose."
The Harem Alarm exploded into light.
DING DING DING DING
Valessara's smile twisted. "So I still get him."
"Yes," Mira said.
Valessara smirked.
"And he gets me," Mira finished.
Valessara's smirk faltered.
Aerin's heart nearly stopped.
The officiant dropped his book.
Cassian whispered, "Oh this is going to be chaos."
Valessara glared. "I will not share."
"The law doesn't care," Merrowin said smoothly.
The council murmured.
The people whispered.
Valessara clenched her fists.
But she wanted the crown too badly.
"Fine," she hissed. "I still marry him."
Aerin looked at Mira.
She smiled gently.
"Your move," she said.
Aerin straightened.
"I choose Mira," he said clearly.
Valessara snapped her head toward him. "You WHAT?"
"I'll marry you for politics," Aerin continued, voice steady for the first time in his life. "But I marry Mira for love."
The cathedral erupted.
Valessara's face turned red with rage.
Elira, being dragged outside, cheered.
"YES!"
Cassian pumped a fist.
The officiant wiped sweat from his brow.
"…Do I… do both ceremonies?"
Merrowin smiled serenely.
"Yes."
And for the first time, Aerin felt like a king who had finally chosen something.
Not a crown.
Not oil.
But a person.