The night after Aerion had spent time with his mother passed more peacefully than the nights before it.
For the first time in several days, the palace did not feel suffocated by tension. The guards still patrolled the walls with careful eyes, and the comet still burned faintly in the sky above the kingdom, but the atmosphere inside the palace had softened slightly.
Morning arrived with gentle sunlight pouring across the marble courtyards of Valencrest.
Birds circled above the palace towers, and the sound of fountains echoed softly through the gardens.
Aerion woke early, as he often did now.
Not because he was restless, but because his mind had grown used to waking before the rest of the world.
He stepped out onto the balcony of his chamber.
The kingdom spread far below him.
Market stalls were beginning to open. Farmers guided carts through the outer gates. Children ran across the streets with the careless joy only peaceful mornings allowed.
From above, it almost looked like nothing was wrong.
But Aerion knew better.
The prophecy had awakened.
The shadows had already appeared once.
And the comet above the world was still growing brighter each night.
He rested his arms on the stone railing and exhaled slowly.
"Thinking again?"
The familiar voice made him smile.
Aerion turned slightly.
Lyria stood at the balcony doorway, holding two small cups of warm tea.
Her silver hair moved softly with the morning breeze.
"You really need to stop sneaking up on people," Aerion said.
"I knocked."
"You knocked very quietly."
She stepped beside him and handed him the tea.
"You're the one with warrior senses," she teased. "If I can sneak up on you, that sounds like your problem."
Aerion chuckled softly.
They stood side by side, looking down at the waking city.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Lyria leaned slightly against the railing.
"The city looks peaceful today," she said.
"It does."
"But you don't believe it will stay that way."
Aerion glanced at her.
"You know me too well."
Lyria smiled faintly.
"That tends to happen when you spend four years growing up together."
Aerion nodded.
Four years.
It felt both long and short at the same time.
Four years of training.
Four years of arguments, laughter, mistakes, victories.
Four years that had slowly turned two teenagers into the people they were now.
And now they were preparing to rule a kingdom.
And face a prophecy.
Lyria took a sip of tea and looked toward the mountains far beyond the kingdom walls.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "when we were thirteen, the biggest problem we had was whether the training instructor would make us run ten laps or twenty."
Aerion smirked.
"Don't remind me. I'm still convinced he enjoyed watching us suffer."
"Oh he definitely did."
They both laughed.
Then the laughter faded into a quieter moment.
Aerion's gaze drifted toward the horizon again.
"The shadows are quiet right now."
"That doesn't mean they're gone."
"I know."
The wind moved softly around them.
Lyria suddenly straightened slightly.
"Come with me."
Aerion raised an eyebrow.
"Where?"
"You'll see."
"That sounds suspicious."
"It's not."
She grabbed his wrist and began pulling him toward the door.
"Lyria—"
"Just trust me."
Moments later, they were walking through the palace corridors.
Servants bowed politely as they passed, but Lyria moved quickly, clearly focused on something.
Eventually they stepped outside into the palace gardens.
Morning sunlight filled the garden paths, and the fountains sparkled beautifully.
But Lyria didn't stop there.
She led him toward a quieter section of the garden near a small training field.
Aerion looked around curiously.
"Okay… what are we doing here?"
Lyria stepped away from him and turned around.
"Training."
He blinked.
"Training?"
"Yes."
"Aren't we already doing that later with the knights?"
"That's different."
"How?"
She crossed her arms.
"That's official training."
"And this?"
"This is just us."
Aerion tilted his head.
"You dragged me out here for a private spar?"
Lyria smiled.
"You're welcome."
Aerion sighed dramatically.
"You know, most future queens probably spend their mornings doing royal things."
"Like what?"
"Planning weddings."
"I already did that yesterday."
"And today?"
"Today I want to see if you've gotten rusty."
Aerion laughed.
"Rusty? After everything happening lately?"
"Exactly," she said, stepping back and raising her stance slightly. "Prove it."
Aerion slowly set his tea on a nearby stone bench.
"Fine."
He stepped onto the grass opposite her.
The distance between them wasn't large.
But it carried the quiet intensity of two people who knew each other's fighting styles better than anyone else.
Lyria raised one hand slightly.
A faint glow of magic formed around her fingers.
Aerion shook his head with a smile.
"You're starting with magic already?"
"You said prove it."
Without warning, she sent a small burst of light energy toward him.
Aerion moved instantly.
He sidestepped the attack smoothly, the energy passing harmlessly beside him.
Then he dashed forward.
Lyria quickly formed a barrier, but Aerion stopped just before striking.
Instead, he lightly tapped her shoulder.
"Too slow."
She stared at him.
"Too slow?"
"Yes."
"That was one move!"
"And I already won."
"That's not how this works."
Aerion stepped back, clearly amused.
Lyria narrowed her eyes.
"Fine."
This time, she moved first.
The next few moments turned into a fast-paced exchange.
Light magic flashed.
Aerion dodged and countered.
They moved across the grass with incredible speed, each anticipating the other's actions.
But despite the intensity, there was laughter between strikes.
At one point Aerion almost slipped on the grass.
Lyria pointed immediately.
"I saw that."
"You saw nothing."
"I definitely saw that."
"That was strategic footing."
"That was you almost falling."
Eventually they both stopped, slightly out of breath.
Not exhausted.
Just warmed up.
Aerion rubbed the back of his neck.
"You've gotten stronger."
Lyria grinned proudly.
"I had a good teacher."
He looked at her curiously.
"Who?"
She pointed at him.
Aerion groaned.
"Oh no."
"What?"
"You're getting confident."
"I've always been confident."
"Not this confident."
She walked over and sat on the stone bench.
Aerion sat beside her.
The garden was quiet again.
After a moment, Lyria leaned back slightly and looked up at the sky.
"Aerion."
"Hmm?"
"No matter what happens with the prophecy… we're ready, right?"
He looked at her carefully.
"Yes."
"You're not just saying that?"
"No."
She studied his expression.
And believed him.
Because over the past four years, Aerion had never lied to her about something important.
"Good," she said quietly.
Aerion followed her gaze toward the sky.
The comet was faintly visible even in daylight now.
A reminder that time was moving forward.
The wedding was getting closer.
And something ancient was beginning to wake.
But for now—
They sat together in the quiet garden.
Two warriors.
Two partners.
Two people who had grown stronger side by side.
The storm was coming.
But they were not afraid.
Because whatever fate had prepared for them—
They would face it together.