CHAPTER 28: THE HATED QUEEN

SOREN

I was still holding her when the fire finally died.

It wasn’t sudden, not like flames snuffed by water. It was slower, like watching a storm pull away after tearing a village apart.

Her heat pressed into me until the very last moment, and then it was gone, leaving her skin warm but not burning.

My own breath misted in the frozen air, and I realized I’d gone too far. My hair grew longer than before, strands of pale frost sticking to my cheek. My hands trembled, streaked with veins that glowed faintly blue beneath the skin. My eyes... I could feel it in them too. Colder. Brighter. Mine.

The crowd had gathered, whispering, some clutching children, others hiding their faces.

"Oh fire god, what did we ever do to deserve monsters as rulers?"

"First her father now her."

"Maybe she’s been taken by the fire god at last."

"Her own flames turned on her."

"She deserves it."

"Have our prayers finally been answered?"

I heard them all. Every word slid like a knife under my ribs, sharp and undeserved. I had no right to feel angry, but I did.

Then Caelen pushed through the wreckage, sword in hand, his face ashen with both fury and confusion. "Is the monster still breathing?" he demanded, his voice carrying like a whip crack.

I only looked at him, Eris still heavy in my arms. I didn’t trust myself to answer.

"Hand her over," he said calmly. His knights, stepped forward at his command.

"No." My voice was soft, but the word froze them where they stood.

Caelen’s eyes narrowed. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean exactly what I said."

"Listen Soren you’re my friend but-" He tried to reason.

"I will not hand her over." I said firmly.

"You think you can walk into Solmire and.."

"I said no." I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to. The air around me was still frostbitten, and the fire knights hesitated, their eyes flicking between the dragon mark of their queen scorched into the ground and the ice crawling at their boots.

For a long moment, Caelen looked ready to strike me down where I stood. But he didn’t. He only clenched his jaw, sheathed his sword, and turned away with a sharp, "Take her back to the palace. Guard the gates."

I carried her myself.

The walk back through the capital should have felt endless but it didn’t. Not while I felt her warmth dwindling. People parted in silence, staring, whispering behind their hands. Their eyes followed me, some with gratitude, some even with fear, others with suspicion, and relief that the queen they hated might be gone.

"Has the god finally claimed her?"

"Will the Ice Emperor finish what her own fire began?"

"Good riddance."

I kept walking, my grip tightening on her. I had no right to care. But every word made me hold her closer.

When we reached the palace, the gates opened without question. Soldiers bowed their heads, though not for me. Not even for her. They bowed out of duty. Nothing more.

We walked past the large towers, down east towards her wing of the fire palace.

I didn’t stop until I reached her chambers myself.

Her room was not what I expected. I don’t know what I thought a queen’s chamber should look like, gold, jewels, some ostentatious display of power.

But this... her room was crowded with maps, half-unrolled scrolls, ink bottles left open, papers with circles and markings scattered across the floor. Plans. Routes. Records. It looked more like a war council than a bedchamber. The bed itself was neatly made, though she had collapsed across it many times, judging by the creased sheets. There was no softness here. Only work. Only weight.

I laid her down carefully, as if she might break.

The maids rushed forward at once, bowing, wringing their hands, promising me they would take care of her, that I could go. I shook my head.

"I’ll stay," I said.

"But, Your Majesty, please, "

"I’ll stay until she wakes."

They didn’t argue again. They only whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear.

Hours passed. I sat by her bed, unmoving, her slow breaths the only sound I cared for. The whispers carried through the walls. Knights, servants, even lords.

Fast.

Predictable.

I could practically hear it.

Why was the Ice Emperor watching over Solmire’s queen? What was going on behind those doors?

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t leave her side either.

And then, finally, the door opened, soft as a sigh.

Ophelia stepped inside. Her eyes widened when she saw me there, still at Eris’s side. Her surprise was clear, because the maids had been right.

The Ice Emperor had not left her chamber.

Not once.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Ophelia stood just inside, her hands folded neatly in front of her, her head tilted ever so slightly as her eyes moved from Eris’s still body to me. She didn’t speak at once. She let the silence work first.

"I heard," she said finally, her voice smooth, "that you’ve been here since the moment you returned from the market square."

I didn’t deny it. "I have."

Her lips pressed together, though not unkindly. "You must be very tired. The maids can manage. Eris is..." she glanced at the bed, her face softening in a way that almost looked like pity, "she is in capable hands I’m sure..."

"I’ll stay," I said simply.

Her eyes flicked back to me, narrowing the smallest fraction. "You’ve already said that."

I nodded. "And I meant it."

For a heartbeat, she only looked at me, as though weighing my words against her own thoughts. Then she took a step closer, her skirts whispering across the floor. "It’s strange, isn’t it? The Ice Emperor watching over Solmire’s queen. People are already whispering."

"They can talk."

"That doesn’t concern you?"

I glanced down at Eris. Her lashes rested against her cheek, pale as frost, her skin still faintly warm under the cooling cloths the maids had left. "No."

Ophelia’s voice lowered. "It concerns me."

There it was, not accusation, not anger, but something closer to curiosity. Or perhaps irritation. A flicker of something she couldn’t name.

I leaned back slightly, letting out a slow breath. "If I leave her, and she wakes to no one, what do you think she’ll believe? That her enemies dragged her back here? That Caelen delivered her in chains? No. I won’t have her waking to suspicion and loneliness."

Her brow furrowed. "You sound as though you... care."

I didn’t answer at once. I didn’t have the words for it myself. "I sound as though I’ve seen her."

Ophelia’s lips parted at that, confusion shadowing her expression. "Seen her?"

"Yes." I let my gaze settle on the sleeping queen again. "Not the monster people call her. Not the tyrant in their stories. Just... her."

The silence stretched again. Ophelia shifted, her hands tightening in her skirts, her eyes flicking between us, me beside the bed, Eris still as stone upon it.

At last, she said quietly, "Be careful, Soren. Eris burns everything she touches."

I almost smiled at that. Almost. "So do I."

Another silence followed, thick with unspoken tension. Then I noticed it. A slight movement from Eris. Her lashes fluttered. A faint shift in her breathing. Then her eyes opened.

Both Ophelia and I froze.

"Eris!"

Ophelia whispered, stepping quickly to her side, her voice all sweetness now. "You’re awake, thank the gods. How are you feeling?"

Eris didn’t answer her. Her gaze slid past her hand, past her concern, straight to me. Those fiery eyes locked onto mine as though I were the only one in the room.

Relief struck me in the chest. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. "I’m glad to see you awake."

She blinked once, then spoke, her voice rough. "What happened?"

Ophelia gave a startled little laugh, almost sharp. "You don’t remember? After everything, after the market, "

Eris’s eyes flickered. Whatever she had forgotten, she understood now. Her face hardened into that familiar mask of ice. Without sparing Ophelia another glance, she turned back to me. "Why are you in my room?"

"Ah..." The corner of my mouth lifted despite myself. "You’re a mean woman your Majesty."

Her brows drew together faintly, confusion breaking through her coldness for just a moment. I stood, turning away before I gave too much away.

"You didn’t answer my question," she said behind me, sharper now.

I paused at the door but didn’t look back. "You should recover first. Then we’ll have a long discussion."

And I left her there, with Ophelia still at her side, and the weight of her stare burning between my shoulders all the way into the hall.