The kingdom rejoiced.
The palace courtyard had been transformed into a spectacle of light and music, a celebration fit for the union of a king and his queen.
Dancers twirled, their silken skirts swirling like flames, while jesters leaped and tumbled, drawing laughter from the nobles and common folk alike. Fire-breathers sent streams of golden fire into the night sky, illuminating the festivities with an ethereal glow.
At the heart of it all, Ronan sat at the head of the great feast, a goblet of wine in hand, his face alight with pure ecstasy.
Selene, seated beside him, played her part well—smiling when needed, nodding in amusement. When inwardly she felt like strangling someone.
And then came Travis, standing atop a raised platform, his booming voice commanding the attention of all.
"Gather close, my friends! Tonight, let me tell you the story of a legend—" he grinned, pausing for effect, "the tale of how our mighty King Ronan came to wield his immortal blade—the sword of kings—Valerius."
A hush fell over the crowd.
Travis smirked. "It was a stormy night, the kind where the heavens themselves roared with fury. Our king was but a young warrior, venturing deep into the heart of the Ruined Vale, where the sword lay buried for centuries, waiting for the one it deemed worthy."
Selene tilted her head. Now this was interesting.
"But the sword was no ordinary blade, my friends!" Travis continued. "It was a weapon forged by the gods themselves, imbued with such power that not even a thousand men could lift it. Many had tried before, kings and conquerors, warriors and fools—but all had failed."
The crowd listened with rapt attention.
"And then came Ronan!" Travis pointed toward the king, who smirked into his cup. "With the strength of his bloodline and the will of the gods, he approached the sword—"
"And lifted it with ease." Ronan cut in smoothly, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Laughter rippled through the crowd, but Selene's curiosity was piqued.
She turned to him, arching a brow. "Is it true?"
Ronan leaned toward her, his voice low and teasing. "Would I lie to my beloved wife on our wedding night?"
She smirked. "Care to demonstrate, my love?"
Ronan stilled.
Not because she had challenged him—no, he welcomed challenges—but because she had called him my love.
He would do anything if she called him that again.
The entire court watched as he rose to his feet.
Without hesitation, he unsheathed Valerius.
The sword gleamed under the torchlight—a magnificent weapon, its blade black as midnight with intricate veins of molten gold running through it, as if fire pulsed beneath its surface. The hilt was adorned with a dragon's head, its ruby eyes glowing like embers.
Gasps of awe rippled through the crowd.
Ronan turned, his voice carrying effortlessly. "If any man here doubts the tale, come forward and test your strength."
With that, he tossed the sword to the ground.
A deep, resounding thud echoed as it hit the stone floor.
At first, there was hesitation. Then, one by one, warriors stepped forward. Strong men, knights, even nobles eager to prove themselves.
The first man grasped the hilt, veins bulging as he strained. The sword did not move.
Laughter erupted.
A second man tried—then a third—then six more.
All failed.
Some grunted in frustration. Others looked at Ronan with something close to fear.
Selene leaned forward, intrigued. "Truly only you can lift it?"
Ronan's gaze burned as he turned to her. "Watch me."
He strode forward effortlessly, grasped the hilt in one fluid motion—
—and lifted Valerius as though it weighed nothing.
The crowd erupted. Cheers, gasps, thunderous applause. Awe.
Selene?
She simply smiled.
Because now she knew exactly what kind of man she was dealing with.
-------
The wedding festivities were over, and Selene was expected to retire to the Queen's chambers to prepare for the King. For their wedding night.
The chamber was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the scent of roses and myrrh thick in the air.
Selene sat before the mirror, her wedding gown exchanged for a delicate nightdress of ivory lace, its thin straps exposing her shoulders. A symbol of vulnerability. Of complete surrender to the King.
But she would not surrender.
Behind her, Lila worked in silence, brushing Selene's hair.
"You're very calm," Lila finally said, her voice unreadable.
Selene met her gaze in the mirror, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. "Should I be trembling?"
Lila's hand stilled for a moment before she set the brush down.
"Most women would be."
"I'm not most women."
Lila sighed, stepping around to face her. "You do know what happens between a man and his wife on their wedding night right?"
"I'm well aware, Lila."
"You can't avoid it, Selene."
Selene leaned back in her chair, eyes glinting with something dark. "Actually, I can."
She lifted her hand, fingers grazing the polished armrest.
"Mind's Grasp."
A gift. A curse.
She had discovered when she was little that with the slightest touch, she could slip into a person's mind and bend their will. Make them unlock a door. Reveal a secret. Turn a blade on themselves.
And for King Ronan?
Just enough to make him fall asleep.
"How long do you intend to keep using this trick?" Lila asked, arms crossed.
Selene smirked. "As many times as I need to."
Lila exhaled sharply, her patience thinning. "You know that consummating the marriage is part of your mission. The king must be fully bound to you."
Selene's amusement vanished. "I will not sleep with the enemy."
A long silence stretched between them.
Then, slowly, Selene rose from her seat. She stepped closer to Lila, her fingers trailing across the fruit table beside her. Her gaze fell on the small silver knife resting between the grapes and figs.
"You need to understand something." Her voice was soft. Dangerous.
She reached out, brushing just the tip of her finger against Lila's wrist.
Lila's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before they turned blank.
Selene entered her mind.
"Pick up the knife."
Lila obeyed.
"Hold it to your throat."
The blade trembled against her skin, a sharp kiss of cold metal.
Then Selene released her.
Lila's body stiffened, and she gasped as she came back to herself—only to find her own hand pressing a blade to her throat.
With a sharp intake of breath, she let it fall to the ground.
For a moment, she just stood there, staring at it. Then, slowly, she looked up.
Her voice was quiet.
"Don't ever use your powers on me again."
Selene only smirked, turning away, but before she could take another step—
Lila's voice echoed through her mind.
"Don't. Ever. Use. Your. Powers. On me."
Selene froze.
Her pulse spiking. How—
She spun around, eyes sharp with disbelief.
Lila was the one smirking now.
"The Faction didn't send me here to babysit you," she said smoothly. She took a step closer, eyes gleaming with something new.
"They sent me to keep you in line. To remind you of your place."
Selene's fingers curled into fists.
Because for the first time, she realized—
*Lila had powers too.*