Chapter 112: A Regret So Deep (I)

Lorien:

I was halfway across the academy grounds when I saw Elara running out of the library building.

At first, I barely paid attention. The snowfall had begun again earlier that evening. Soft flakes drifted lazily through the courtyard beneath the silver glow of the lamps, and my thoughts were still trapped in the dinner party I had just escaped from. I had been looking forward to nothing more than reaching my apartment, changing out of the formal clothes I had been forced to wear for the evening, and enjoying a few hours of peace before work began again coming morning. But then a familiar figure burst through the library doors, and my feet slowed instinctively.

Even from several dozen feet away, I recognized her immediately. There were very few people in Starfall who moved with the kind of restless determination Elara possessed, as though every step was fueled by some internal argument she refused to lose.

Yet tonight there was something different in the way she hurried across the courtyard toward the path leading to the dormitories. Her shoulders were tense, her steps almost frantic, and even beneath the cold night air I could see that her cheeks were flushed. Her long black hair, streaked naturally with silver, swayed behind her as she walked quickly enough to look almost like she was trying to outrun something.

Concern tightened something inside my chest before I could stop it. My body moved on its own, one foot already stepping forward as I instinctively prepared to follow her and find out what had happened, but I froze before I could take another step.

Kairo stepped out of the library.

He stopped at the top of the stone staircase, his gaze fixed on Elara’s retreating back. There was something about the way he stood there that immediately caught my attention. His usual careless expression was nowhere to be seen. Even from where I stood, I could make out the tension in his posture and the way his gray eyes remained trained on her until she disappeared beyond the trees.

A frown slowly settled over my face. Why was Kairo in the library with Elara this late? I knew he spent more time around her than any of the others, often finding some excuse to tease her or help her with magic, but seeing her flee the building looking so troubled made an uncomfortable suspicion crawl through my mind.

Had Kairo done something? Had he joined Reign’s foolish campaign after all? I had expected better from him. Reign’s decision to teach Elara a lesson had already created enough problems, and Alaric had been more than willing to participate in it, along with several other noble heirs who seemed to believe that humiliating a girl they considered powerless was somehow an acceptable demonstration of superiority. I had thought Kairo possessed enough sense to stay out of it just like Esme. Perhaps I had given the young Greymark far more credit than he deserved.

My jaw tightened as I stared toward the path where Elara had disappeared, and for one irrational moment I considered walking back to the library and demanding an explanation from Kairo. But before I could act, the snowfall suddenly intensified. Thick white flakes swept across the courtyard in a sudden curtain, obscuring the distant buildings and swallowing the academy grounds in pale mist.

I spared another glance toward the library steps, only to find them empty. Kairo was gone. Elara was gone as well. Whatever had happened, I had already missed it.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, I forced myself to turn away and continued toward the teachers’ quarters.

The cold should have cleared my thoughts, but it only gave me more room to think. Tonight’s dinner party had been another carefully orchestrated attempt by the Regents to find me a suitable partner, and as usual, I had endured it because refusing to attend was apparently no longer considered an option.

I was turning twenty-seven next month, and being the only living descendant of the Moonveil bloodline had apparently transformed my nonexistent love life into a matter of national concern.

There was a time when my lack of a partner had been nothing more than a source of amusement among the Regents. Now it had become a problem they were determined to solve. They wanted me married. They wanted a Moonveil heir. They wanted the bloodline secured before anything happened to me, and preferably with a woman whose family, status, magical ability, and political connections could be carefully evaluated beforehand. Apparently, somewhere along the way, my personal life had become another matter for the ruling council to manage.

I had always hated blind dates, but I had at least tried to be courteous to the women they brought before me. I listened, asked questions, smiled when appropriate, and endured conversations about families, estates, magical specialties, and political alliances without showing how desperately I wanted to leave. But lately, even my carefully maintained patience had begun to fail me. ℯℯ𝑙.

Tonight, the woman sitting across from me had eventually excused herself with tears threatening to spill from her eyes, and the moment she left, I had been subjected to nearly an hour of lectures from the Regents about my behavior. They told me I was being unreasonable. They told me that I couldn’t continue rejecting every woman they introduced. They reminded me that my position demanded responsibility. And then they asked what exactly I was waiting for.

I hadn’t known how to answer them. Because the truth was embarrassingly simple. I was comparing every single woman they placed in front of me to Elara.

And none of them came close. Not even remotely.

No one had her silver eyes that seemed capable of challenging an entire room without her saying a word. No one had her stubbornness, that infuriating refusal to bend simply because someone expected her to. No one possessed her strange combination of fierceness and softness, the way she could look ready to tear someone’s throat out one moment and then become unexpectedly gentle the next. No one was as intelligent, observant, resilient, or fiercely independent. No one had her sharp tongue, her dry little expressions when someone annoyed her, or the way she sometimes tried to hide amusement by pressing her lips together.

No one had the courage to walk into a world that had stripped away almost everything familiar to her and still refuse to surrender. She had lost her family, her home, her identity, and her magic was sealed, yet somehow she continued standing. Even when frightened, she fought. Even when hurt, she pushed herself forward. Even when surrounded by people who wanted her to bow, she lifted her chin higher. And beneath all that strength was a vulnerability she rarely allowed anyone to see, one that made me want to protect her even when I knew better than to let myself feel that way.