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The palace had quieted, but the air still thrummed with the echo of what had been said.
Far below, the city glowed in patches — lanterns burning late, taverns murmuring, hearts restless with the aftershock of something wondrous and strange.
High above, behind the carved oak doors of the council chamber, the King sat in silence.
King Daran Skybloom was a man of command and constancy — broad-shouldered, deliberate, with eyes that missed little and revealed less. Yet tonight, his posture sagged, his crown set aside on the table beside a half-finished glass of spiced wine.
Queen Elaris entered without ceremony, her silks trailing soft as breath. The firelight caught in the silver threads of her hair.
“She did it,” she said quietly.
Daran’s mouth twitched — not a smile, not quite. “The whole kingdom’s talking.”
“They would be,” Elaris replied, settling beside him. “A princess proposing to a gardener tends to make a fine tale for the taverns.”
He grunted. “A scandal, more like.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “A scandal that made the people cheer.”
Silence stretched between them, filled with the crackle of the fire.
At last, Daran sighed. “She could have warned us.”
Elaris’s lips curved gently. “Would you have stopped her?”
He hesitated. “No. But I’d have liked to brace for the avalanche.”
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing his. “She spoke truth, Daran. The kind we spend our lives hoping our children will have the courage to speak.”
His gaze dropped to their joined hands. “She’s too much like you,” he muttered.
Elaris smiled — soft, proud. “That’s the finest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He huffed a low laugh, shaking his head. “She’s reckless.”
“She’s brave.”
“Both can be true.”
The Queen’s eyes softened. “You watched her, didn’t you? From the east balcony.”
He said nothing, but the faintest flush rose in his cheeks.
“I saw your face,” Elaris went on gently. “You looked proud.”
He lifted his glass to hide his expression. “The Goddesses know I’ll never admit that out loud.”
Her laughter was quiet and fond. “Of course not. It would ruin your reputation for stoicism.”
He glanced at her, and this time the smile came easier. “You’ll tell her, won’t you?”
“I will,” Elaris said. “She needs to hear it — from someone whose pride doesn’t hide behind a goblet.”
Daran’s voice softened. “Tell her I trust her. That’s the best I can offer for now.”
Elaris nodded, rising to go. “That will be enough.”
As she turned to leave, he spoke again — low, almost to himself. “She looked happy.”
“She is,” Elaris said, pausing in the doorway. “You should be too.”
And then she slipped away, the scent of her perfume and the sound of the fire the only traces left behind.
-_-_-_-_-_-_--_-_-_-_-_-_--_-_-_-_-_-_-
The royal library lay in half-shadow, its candles burned low to stubs. Rain still clung to the windows, blurring the moonlight into soft halos.
Princess Rania sat curled in the window seat, a book closed on her lap, though she had not turned a page in an hour. The night’s words still echoed in her mind — the speech, the cheers, the shock. Her pulse had not quite slowed.
When the door opened, she startled slightly.
“Little bird,” said her mother, voice gentle as warm milk.
“Mother.” Rania straightened, smoothing her shift.
Elaris crossed the room, her expression touched with both amusement and tenderness. “You’ve caused quite the stir.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Oh, you did,” Elaris interrupted softly, a smile glimmering. “And it was beautiful.”
Rania blinked. “You’re not angry?”
“Angry?” The Queen shook her head. “My heart nearly burst watching you. You stood before them all and spoke what so many are afraid to whisper. How could I be angry?”
Rania’s throat tightened. “I thought… maybe you’d be disappointed. Or that Father would be.”
Elaris brushed a strand of hair from her daughter’s face. “Your father watched from the east balcony. He’ll never say it — the Goddesses know he’s too stubborn — but I saw it in his eyes. He’s proud of you, Rania. We both are.”
Rania’s eyes filled. “I just wanted to do what felt right. But what if I’ve made it harder for the kingdom?”
“You’ve made it truer,” Elaris murmured. “The people will remember this day as the one their princess gave them permission to love without fear. That is no small gift.”
Rania’s voice trembled. “Mama… I was so afraid.”
Elaris smiled, hearing the shift in her daughter’s voice. “I know, little bird.”
She reached out and drew Rania into her arms, holding her close — a mother’s embrace, soft and sure. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s doing the right thing even while you tremble.”
For a long while, neither spoke. The fire crackled softly; the night hummed.
When at last they pulled apart, Elaris leaned down and kissed her daughter’s head, a gesture both blessing and promise.
“The world will ask questions in the morning,” she said quietly. “But tonight, be only my daughter.”
Rania rested her head against her shoulder. “Yes, Mama.”
Outside, the rain had stopped. The first light of dawn brushed the library’s high windows — pale gold spilling across the shelves, across mother and daughter.
And for that moment, the palace felt less like a fortress, and more like a home.