Chapter 3

I packed the picnic basket myself, filling it with spiced manticore cuts and honeyed figs. I wanted this trip. I needed to see him at the Starlight Waterfall, the exact place he put the ring on my finger.

Kaelen only agreed to come because a High Mage needed to be seen with his fiancée in public circles. It maintained his perfect, devoted image.

The waterfall roared, spraying cold mist against my face. The starlight flowers bloomed in massive, glowing clusters along the rocky banks. I grabbed Kaelen’s sleeve, forcing him to stop walking.

"Say it again," I demanded, looking up at his handsome face. "The vows you made five years ago. Right here."

He let out a harsh, impatient breath. He recited the words. Every single syllable perfectly matched the memory. But his tone was entirely flat. His eyes darted toward the forest canopy, and his right hand constantly brushed the fabric over his pocket, checking for his communicator.

I laid out the blanket and arranged his favorite dishes. Kaelen sat on the edge of the fabric, his posture rigid. He ignored the food. He stared at the treeline, his fingers drumming a frantic rhythm on his knee. I forced a bright smile, forcing myself to eat. The food tasted like ash. My stomach knotted with a furious, burning pain. Every second I sat there playing the happy fiancée felt like I was swallowing razor blades.

Then, the crystal in his pocket chimed.

Kaelen snatched it. He read the screen, and his face instantly morphed into an expression of grave concern. "Elara, I'm sorry. The council just signaled an emergency."

He didn't wait for my response. He turned and marched down the trail.

I threw down my fork. I didn't stay behind to clean up. I pulled my dark hood over my hair and ran after him, keeping a safe distance. He was too distracted to check for followers. At the forest edge, he hired a private carriage. I tossed a gold coin to another driver and pointed at Kaelen’s departing wheels.

We rode out of the city limits, deep into the southern countryside. The carriage stopped near a dense thicket. I slipped out and crept through the woods. A shimmering magical barrier pulsed between the trees, hiding a sprawling, sunlit manor.

I pushed my way through the heavy bushes. Thick, sharp thorns snagged my dress and sliced into my bare hands. I ignored the sting, pressing my face close to the barrier.

The heavy oak door of the manor swung open. Lyra stepped onto the porch.

Kaelen rushed up the stone steps. The heavy, exhausted posture he carried around me vanished completely. He looked vibrant. Alive. He kissed the little boy’s forehead, then the girl’s, and finally leaned in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to Lyra’s lips.

"Sorry I'm late," Kaelen’s voice carried through the barrier, clear and relieved. "Keeping her company is exhausting."

Lyra laughed, a bright, musical sound, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Thanks for your hard work. Just endure a bit longer."

I dropped to my knees in the damp dirt. I grabbed the thorny branches, my fingers crushing the spikes. The thorns tore deep into my flesh. Hot blood ran down my wrists, but the physical pain was absolutely nothing compared to the violent tearing in my chest. I gasped for air, sobbing into the dirt. Tears streamed down my face, burning my cold skin. I watched my fiancé hold his secret family. I stayed in the mud, letting the thorns shred my hands, letting the absolute cruelty of his words fracture my heart into unfixable pieces.

It was dark when I finally returned to the Mage Tower. Kaelen wasn't back.

I climbed the narrow wooden stairs to the dusty attic. I dragged my heavy iron trunk to the center of the room and threw open the lid. I pulled out the faded photographs. The parchment love letters. The dried flowers from our first anniversary. I touched every single item, smearing my blood across the edges of the paper.

He loved me once. We were real once. The realization didn't bring closure; it made me want to scream. I clutched a photo of us to my chest, letting the tears fall freely.

A floorboard creaked behind me. A young maid stood in the doorway, holding a stack of fresh towels. Her eyes widened at the sight of my bloody hands and tear-streaked face.

"Madam?" she whispered, taking a hesitant step forward. "Do you need any help?"

I wiped my face with the back of my bloody hand. "No. Leave me alone."

She bowed frantically and ran down the stairs.

I pulled my leather-bound journal from my pocket. I grabbed a pen. My hand shook so violently I could barely hold the metal barrel, but I forced the nib onto the paper.

I don't hate him. I am just... so tired. If love needs to be shared, I'd rather have none. Tomorrow, I will talk to him properly.

I pressed the pen down so hard the nib snapped, tearing a hole straight through the page.