CHAPTER 167: MEETING

Aelin

Killian’s answer came after a pause.

"For reputation." But it was an answer that was quite obvious if anyone thinks about it,

I clenched my fists. My nails dug into my palms as something ugly and deep twisted in my chest.

"And with the current progress, where you seem to possess such a unique power." He pointed at his forehead, "I think-" He brought his hand down and chose to not say anything further.

...

"Did Raya and Reagen know too?" I asked. Unsure what to do about the information. Because the truth was, even I didn’t know how I had this power of mine.

"No," Killain said, "They still don’t"

So they kept bullying their sister who they knew as their own blood...

But why would mother cheat? I don’t want to believe she did that. But it’s true that I am part of the Solwyn people... who seemed to have disappeared centuries ago.

But so then why?

And another question that lingered was, "Being born like that wasn’t my fault, right?"

!!!

Killian was surprised by my question, but he nodded, "It wasn’t,"

As the silence settled once more between us, I found my voice again. "How long will your work here take?"

Killian set his cup down with a quiet clink. "Since I came unannounced," he said, straightening his cuffs, "I still need to speak with the king. Sort out the logistics. Might take a day or two."

"I hope you can leave fast," I said bluntly, standing.

He didn’t flinch. His gaze dropped to his hands, and he murmured, "I intend to."

There was no bitterness in his voice. Just quiet resignation.

I said nothing else. I turned and walked toward the door, each step steady despite the hollowness blooming in my chest. The doors opened at my approach, and the light from the corridor spilled in like a promise.

As I stepped outside, I found Ariston leaning against the wall beside the doorway, hands folded behind his back, the ever-watchful look in his eyes softening when he saw me.

"Princess," he said gently, pushing off the wall to walk beside me. "Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," I replied, the words automatic.

But Ariston was not easily dismissed. He didn’t press, though. He simply kept walking alongside me in quiet companionship

I walked a lot, randomly moving through the corridors, trying to calm myself down and as my guard Ariston kept me company.

After a while, when I felt a little better in the space that I had grown used to, I let out a soft sigh.

That’s when he spoke again, "Princess," More deliberately this time. "Would you... spare some time for me?"

!?!?

"Spare some time for you?" I was a little taken aback by his request.

"Yes,"

I slowed, eyebrows lifting slightly as I turned toward him. "That’s the first time you’ve asked me for anything."

He nodded once, the corners of his lips twitching in the barest of smiles. "It is."

I tilted my head. "What do you want?"

"I want you to meet someone," he said, voice even but with a weight behind it.

***

Ariston

I wore my most ordinary clothes. No armor. No blades strapped. Just a simple dark clothes and a worn cloak that hung heavy around my shoulders. Not exactly the picture of a royal guard, but that was the point.

I was waiting for the princess at the back of the garden wall, near the stone arch half-covered in ivy and she arrived a few minutes later. She wore a soft linen dress, hair tied in a simple knot. No crown. No silks.

"You ready?" I asked quietly.

She nodded, looking more curious than cautious. "Where are we going?"

"To a temple"

She raised a brow but didn’t press. She trusted me, which was both a comfort and a weight I didn’t take lightly.

We slipped through the back gate, the one the palace servants used to toss waste and sometimes smuggle in sweets from the city market. It was narrow, crooked, and perfect.

Or it should’ve been.

"Ariston."

The voice was too familiar, too sharp.

!!!

I froze.

We both turned to see Drakkar standing there, arms crossed over his chest, his long coat sweeping the gravel.

"Where are you taking the Queen?" he asked coolly, eyes flicking between me and Aelin.

I looked at him and said nothing. Just turned slightly, shielding Aelin with my body in that subtle, instinctual way I always did.

Drakkar’s jaw tightened. "You’re just going to walk past me like that?"

"I just want to take her to meet someone," I said, voice flat, refusing to give him more than that.

His eyes narrowed. "Your father?"

The words cut through the space between us like a thrown knife.

I didn’t answer.

I just stared at him. Hard.

"Don’t worry Drakkar," Aelin said, "We’re not running away or anything. Draegon already knows too but we don’t want to attract any attention so we’re leaving quietly."

He didn’t flinch, but he didn’t move either.

I stepped past him, Aelin at my side. He didn’t follow. Didn’t stop us

***

The temple stood like a skeleton of something forgotten — half-built, half-erased. We had walked in silence for most of the way, winding through narrow backstreets and broken alleys until the stonework began to change beneath our feet. The noise of the city grew distant behind us, muted by the morning mist and the quiet echo of old stone.

This wasn’t the kind of place most people wandered into. It was nestled in the bones of the city, surrounded by overgrown buildings and the shell of what had once been a grand district before the city’s structure changed

It had rained the night before. The ground was soft, the air heavy and cool, thick with the smell of wet stone and moss. Puddles clung to the broken flagstones, reflecting the dim gray sky overhead. The clouds hadn’t lifted. If anything, they hung even lower now, the morning light diffused and hazy.

When we stepped through the arched threshold of the temple’s outer wall, the courtyard opened before us like something out of memory.

It was vast — a wide expanse of cracked and unfinished stone framed by towering black pillars, some still wrapped in scaffolding that had long since rusted through. The architecture was demon in origin, unmistakably so: sharp, sweeping lines, surfaces polished in places that now lay fractured and worn.

And in the center of it all, catching the eye like a mirror to another world, was the rain catcher.

A wide, circular basin carved into the stone — too perfect, too deliberate to be anything but sacred. It was full from the night’s rain, the water still and glassy, reflecting the shifting sky and the jagged remains of the temple around it. A few white petals floated across its surface, blown in from the bushes that had crept in from the city’s edge.

Aelin stepped forward before I could say anything.

She crossed the courtyard slowly, her eyes drawn to the pool as if it was calling to her. And then she knelt at the edge, brushing her fingers over the surface of the water.

"It’s beautiful," she whispered, almost to herself.

I stayed back, letting her have the moment. Watching her there — framed by stone and sky and silence — it felt like something was being remembered.

She looked back at me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You come here often?"