—Later, After Court—
Kaelion stormed into the war chamber the moment court ended. Elira followed, calmly behind him like a shadow that refused to be shaken.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he snapped, spinning around.
Elira shut the door gently. "And yet you didn't stop me. Why?"
He stared at her, jaw clenched.
"You want power," he said.
"I want purpose," she replied. "There's a difference."
He stepped closer. "Purpose gets people killed."
"So does silence."
His breath hitched, just slightly.
"I don't need a clever wife with opinions."
"Then you should have married a mirror."
He stopped short, blinked at her. Then—unexpectedly—he laughed. Just once. Dry and sharp. Like a blade drawn across old stone.
"You don't know when to hold your tongue, do you?"
"No," Elira said. "And you don't know when to listen."
He turned away, pacing. "You think you can win the court? That you'll soften this empire with smiles and pretty speeches?"
"No," she said softly. "But maybe… I can soften you."
His head snapped back toward her, eyes storm-dark.
"You are not here to fix me."
"I'm not here to fix anyone," she said. "Only to survive."
They stood in silence. The tension between them crackled—not just anger. Something deeper. Something rising between cold steel and warm flame.
Then Kaelion crossed the room in a few long strides. He stopped just inches from her, gaze boring into hers.
"If you ever try to manipulate me again in front of my council…"
"What?" she whispered, chin high. "You'll kill me?"
His eyes narrowed. "No."
He leaned in, his breath brushing her ear.
"I'll make you beg for mercy you don't deserve."
Her breath caught.
She didn't back away.
And for a moment—just a single, dangerous heartbeat—they stood on the edge of something neither of them could name.
Then he pulled back, as cold as ever.
"Stay out of my affairs, Elira," he said before walking away.
But behind him, he didn't see the way her fingers trembled. Not in fear.
In something else.
Something that whispered, He can be broken.
And maybe… so can I.