Chapter 2: The Palace Without Her
“Seal the doors,” Kael shouted.
No one moved fast enough.
Nobles scrambled from their seats. A glass mask hit the marble and broke. Somewhere above us, the moon glass cracked with a sound like ice under a boot.
Kael reached for me.
I stepped back.
“Do not touch us.”
His hand stopped in the air.
“Elara, you made your point.”
“My point?”
Rowan shook against my side. I wrapped him in my cloak.
“You still think this is about you.”
Seraphine was crying near the moonwell. Two handmaidens held her upright.
“Kael,” she said, “make it stop. I can hear the wards.”
The High Seer’s face had gone gray.
“Your Highness,” she said, “the eastern anchor is failing.”
“Restore it.”
“I cannot.”
“You are High Seer.”
“And Lady Elara was the bonded moon-shield of this palace.”
The words landed hard.
Kael stared at her.
“What did you say?”
I laughed once. It sounded ugly.
“You didn’t know?”
The High Seer lowered her eyes.
Kael turned on me. “You never told me.”
“You never asked why the wards steadied after I married you. You never asked where I went every new moon. You never asked why your campaign maps stopped being wrong.”
Seraphine looked down.
Kael opened his mouth. Closed it.
Rowan tugged my sleeve. “Mother, I want to go.”
That was the only command I cared about.
“Yes,” I said. “We’re going.”
Kael moved. “Elara.”
The guards crossed their spears at the western doors.
I looked at them. “Move.”
One swallowed. “My lady, the prince ordered the hall sealed.”
I lifted my bleeding hand.
“Under old law, a severed consort may leave before moonset with her child, personal effects, and any dependent not acknowledged by the royal line.”
The High Seer closed her eyes.
Kael said, “He is my son.”
“Then name his favorite story.”
Silence.
The court watched.
“His favorite breakfast,” I said.
“Elara.”
“The name of the stuffed hare he sleeps with.”
Rowan pressed into my side.
Kael’s jaw worked. “I have been busy keeping this kingdom alive.”
“No,” the High Seer said quietly. “She has.”
That silence was worse.
Seraphine whispered, “Kael, please. I’m getting worse.”
He looked at her.
Of course he did.
I walked past him.
One guard lowered his spear.
Then another.
Kael caught my wrist in the doorway. The bond was gone, but his skin still knew mine. Once, that touch would have ruined me.
Now it only made me tired.
“You’re angry,” he said. “Take one night.”
“We took seven years.”
“Where will you go?”
“Away.”
“With what name? What escort? What money?”
I looked at his hand until he let go.
“With my son.”
In the nursery, I packed badly. Rowan’s spell slate. Two shirts. His cloud-hare. The tin of sugared violets he saved for good days.
He sat on the rug, watching.
“Did I ruin it?” he asked.
I stopped.
“No.”
“My wings were wrong.”
“Your wings were beautiful.”
“Father looked angry.”
“Your father is often angry at things he doesn’t understand.”
He thought about that.
“Will he come after us?”
I tied the bag shut.
“If he does, he’ll have to learn how to ask.”
A knock came.
I pulled Rowan behind me. “Who is it?”
The High Seer’s voice answered, low and urgent.
“Open, child. I brought the old gate key.”
Morwen stood outside with a black iron key in one hand.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked.
She looked at Rowan’s silver-black wings.
“Because I served his grandmother,” she said. “And because if you stay, they will use him next.”
A crash shook the palace.
Far below, something ancient split open.
Morwen shoved the key into my hand.
“Run before the prince understands what he lost.”
