The immortal's bride

The palace was quieter at night, but not still. In the Hollow Realm, silence had a heartbeat.

Aelia sat on the edge of the stone balcony just outside her chamber, her knees drawn to her chest, her cloak wrapped tight around her. The sky was black again, but not empty. Wisps of magic—greenish, silver-blue—floated above the spires like haunted lanterns. She watched them dance without meaning, like her thoughts.

She could still feel Kael's hands on her wrists from when he dragged her back. The sharpness in his voice. The cold finality in his eyes.

"You were never brought here to be loved."

"You were only meant to save the realm."

"I never said I loved you."

The words echoed, each one a blade. But what hurt more was the silence that followed them. No apology. No hesitation. Nothing but that familiar hollowness in his gaze.

She didn't realize someone was standing behind her until a soft cough interrupted the quiet.

Aelia turned sharply. Her fingers instinctively curled, though she held no weapon.

Thorian.

He stepped into the moonlight, dressed in robes darker than midnight, his expression unreadable. Not unkind—never unkind—but cautious, like a man approaching a wounded creature.

"I thought I might find you here," he said softly. "The light likes you. Or perhaps it remembers you."

Aelia blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

He leaned against the carved stone pillar, crossing his arms. "In the time before... when the Hollow Realm still had seasons, the queens used to come here. To this exact spot. The balcony overlooks the chamber of beginnings. You… stood here once before."

Aelia's heart skipped. "As Lysara?"

Thorian didn't flinch. "Yes."

She turned away, gripping the cold stone tighter. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why does no one speak her name around me?"

"Because Kael forbade it," Thorian answered quietly. "He wanted a fresh start. For himself. For you."

"Is that what he calls this?" she whispered bitterly. "Dragging me back like a prisoner? Treating me like I'm some tool to fix his broken kingdom?"

Thorian was silent for a long time. Then, gently: "No, that is what he calls fear."

Aelia looked at him.

"He is afraid," Thorian said, his voice barely more than breath. "Not just of losing the realm… but of losing you. Again."

Her chest tightened. "He said he never loved me."

Thorian looked at her then — truly looked — and his eyes held something she hadn't seen in a long time.

Not pity. Not fear.

Longing.

"He may not know what love is," Thorian said. "But you do. And that… makes you powerful."

Aelia swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "Do you know what it's like, Thorian? To feel like you're living in someone else's body? I remember things I didn't live. I feel things I can't explain. And no one tells me the truth. Not Kael. Not even you."

Thorian stepped closer. Close enough that she could see the faint scar that cut through his brow, the way his hands trembled slightly as he rested them on the rail beside hers.

"You want the truth?" he asked.

She nodded.

He looked away for a moment, as if choosing carefully. "The truth is… you were once a queen who wanted peace. Who tried to stop Kael from going to war with the East. You stood in front of him, not against him, but the council… they turned him anyway. The war broke everything. You left, and when you did, something inside him—something vital—died."

Aelia's eyes blurred. "So I ran away."

"No," Thorian said gently. "You sacrificed yourself. For him. For this realm."

"And he doesn't remember?"

Thorian gave a sad smile. "He remembers. But it's easier to pretend he doesn't."

They were quiet for a while, only the faint shimmer of the magical sky dancing between them.

Then Thorian added, softer, "If I were him, I would not have let you go the first time."

Aelia's breath hitched. She turned her head to him.

He was staring at her now. No veil, no diplomacy. Just raw, aching honesty.

"I know I'm not him," he said, "but if you ever need someone to stand with you, not above you… I'm here. I always have been."

And just for a moment, the tension faded.

Just for a moment, she saw a future that didn't hurt.

A hand brushed hers. Not Kael's—Thorian's. Gentle. Real. Warm.

But then, from deep within the palace, a sound echoed.

A scream.

Aelia stood instantly. "What was that?"

Thorian's calm broke. "Stay here."

"No," she said, fire rising in her chest. "I won't wait in the dark anymore."

She pushed past him and ran inside.

Something was wrong in the Hollow Realm again.

Something was moving in the shadows — something old.

And it was coming for her.