Kaelis tore into the food like a starved beast. Steam curled from the flaky bread, his hands greasy in seconds as he devoured bite after bite. He didn't even look up when Silas cleared her throat for the second time, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
'This is amazing…!'
"…Are you gonna chew, or just inhale everything like a wild animal?" she muttered.
Kaelis took another violent bite. "Mmmph." Swallowed. "Don't talk to a man when he's eating."
"You're not eating—you're butchering it." She looked mildly disgusted. "You're worse than Arinelle."
He grinned with his mouth full. "Flatter me more, your majesty."
She scoffed, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. "So? I'm asking you questions here, piglet. Where are you from?"
"Earth." He said it between bites like it was the name of some long-forgotten prison.
Silas blinked. "Is that a region? A kingdom? Or a prison?"
Kaelis shrugged. "Little of the first and last one."
"…And what rank did you have there?"
Kaelis froze theatrically, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. Then—a smirk.
'Rank, huh? She doesn't know anything about my world, so she's ignorant. I got this.'
"I was…" He stood tall, raised a hand dramatically to the ceiling, voice booming. "A wealthy business magnate. I ran an empire of dark commerce. Vast machines. Tall towers. A hundred subordinates obeyed my every command. I held stock—stock—in things called portfolios and quarterly dividends."
Silas just stared.
"…What does any of that mean?"
"Exactly," Kaelis said smugly, snapping his fingers. "Only those in power know."
"Mm. I'm in power, and I don't know what those are." She looked down at the floor. "I have a lot to learn."
Outside the cell, muffled voices whispered.
"We shouldn't be doing this." That was Thrain, grumbling like a scolded dad.
"We're just checking," Arinelle whispered. "Might see some freaky magic going on. Maybe he sprouts wings."
"We are not watching them kiss."
"Not yet," Alistair added with a grin. "This could be it. Silas never has had this much alone time with a man. She never even kissed anyone before."
But then—
Silas's head whipped around, eyes sharp.
Thrain immediately snapped upright, looking at Arinelle and Alistair, stammering: "W-What are you two doing?! I told you to come with me to help reconstruct the food court!"
"You liar!" Arinelle gasped.
Alistair patted Thrain on the back. "Traitor. Disgrace. Weak-willed. See how you betrayed us in an instant!"
"You crumbled so fast." Arinelle added.
As the trio bickered down the hallway, their voices fading into laughter and insults, Kaelis raised an eyebrow. "Clingy bunch. They're not bad though."
Silas rolled her eyes, stepping back toward the cell bars. "I've known them since I was little. They've always had my back. When things got bad, they were there. Even if I didn't want them to be."
Kaelis kept eating, a little slower now, listening.
"I hate it sometimes," she said, voice softer. "Being pitied. Treated like a powerless queen. A damsel. But… I'd be dead without them."
He nodded through another bite, swallowing. "You're not dead. So they're doing something right."
Silas didn't answer that.
Kaelis glanced at the chain on his wrist. "There's gotta be a deeper reason you're in my cell."
Silas hesitated. Then nodded.
"I'm not keeping you here," she said. "Not really. The chains are just… a precaution. In case you woke up rampaging again. Half your power's sealed. I just needed time to figure out what the hell happened out there. But if you want out, I'll let you out. Simple as that."
Kaelis looked at her, his expression unreadable.
"You're not scared of me?"
Silas shrugged. "Should I be?"
He didn't answer.
'Even after what happened in that safe room…?'
"What's your world like?" she asked suddenly, genuine curiosity lighting her eyes. "Earth?"
Kaelis leaned back against the wall, chewing slower now. "Loud. Fast. Cold. Sometimes warm. Metal boxes called cars that you drive to get to places faster. People who lie about everything. And food that tastes like nothing unless you burn it."
Silas looked entranced. "So weird. But interesting.."
"Try waking up here," Kaelis muttered. "I thought I got hit by a truck. Twice."
She laughed, and the sound was warm. "So how old are you, businessman?"
"Twenty."
"Really?" Her eyes widened. "I'm twenty-one."
"Great," Kaelis grunted. "Now I feel like a child."
"I'm Queen Silas."
Kaelis responded. "Kaelis. That's my name. Anything else you can tell me about this kingdom?"
Silas sat near the bars, resting the basket beside her. Her tone shifted, more somber now. "This kingdom… my parents carved it from war and famine. It stands for survival. For rebuilding. It's not just a title—being queen. The soul of the ruler feeds the land. Literally. Physically. The king and queen, together, nourish the land with their strength. That's how the divine crown works. It amplifies our lives into the earth."
Kaelis looked at her sideways. "You saying you need a king to keep the grass green?"
"…Something like that."
"So…" He took a last bite. "You come in here to ask for my hand in marriage or what?"
Silas's face went bright red. "N-No—!" She lunged at him with a punch, but Kaelis leaned back casually, dodging while still chewing.
"You're lucky those chains are on you. I only came to apologize for stabbing you."
"I told you to stab me," he growled.
"I've never stabbed anyone before!" she snapped, looking away. "Not like that. I don't even see you as an enemy. I'm not afraid of you. I just…"
She trailed off. The silence fell again.
"…You can leave. If you want to," she said. "The gates are open."
Kaelis sat back down, finishing the last crumbs.
He stared at the floor.
"…Where would I go?"
Silas shrugged, brushing a lock of her black hair behind her ear as she leaned back against the windowsill, arms crossed. "Oh, I don't know. Only the entire world."
She didn't wait for permission. Her voice took on a sharp but charming rhythm, like someone who was used to commanding a room—but still didn't take it too seriously.
"Kingdom of Elu's the continent of Thrones—everyone there's obsessed with power, crowns, and statues that bleed divine residue if you sneeze near them wrong. You'd love Kalendreth. Ember-streaked mountains, golden plains, and divine statues that might kill you if you stare too long. Also, there's the Redlight Zones—yeah, areas that glitch out time. Real casual stuff."
Kaelis' eye twitched, saying, "You're explaining this to me like it's a vacation commercial…"
She started walking around him, hands fluttering in emphasis. "And then there's Thoraad Kingdom. All rock and ruin. Clans there eat powdered fossils and crystals and shit. Oh! And Drelvareth—rain-drenched brass cities and heretics. Soul forges. Semi-mechanical underworlds they have. And it's occupied by dwarves. She didn't pause for air."
"Then there's Velkareth—the Moonlands. You can literally fall up if you're not careful." She twirled once for dramatic flair before pacing again.
"Or, if you're into trees that remember when they were gods, there's Myrrenhal. Elves there sell time. Time is currency. Want another year to live? Hope you're rich. And then there's Ashvale—flaming siege forests full of angry rebels riding beasts made of bark and vengeance."
Kaelis blinked.
Silas flicked his shoulder. "And then there's Aetherdael—hidden in dream, full of cities that shouldn't exist. One of them sells your future back to you. The other loops through six versions of itself. That place gives even me a headache."
Kaelis stared, arms crossed now, brows slightly raised.
Silas shrugged. "Oh, and there's Vaegmorra. A kingdom that only speaks through mirrors. No one's even sure if it's real. Their laws only work if you're being watched. I'm not making that up."
She dropped her arms and let the words settle. "There are more out there. That was just the surface."
Kaelis exhaled, a long, slow breath. Then:
"They all sound cool, I've made my decision."
"Oh? Which is?"
"I don't wanna go to any of them."
Silas tilted her head, mouth open. "Excuse me?"
He looked away. "I've got a chaos god jammed into my soul, right? Like, I'm already tangled in whatever this is. If I stay here, maybe I can figure out why I'm in this world. What I'm really supposed to do. If I wanna get rid of this power or… maybe use it."
Silas watched him in silence, a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze.
"I spoke with the council," she said at last, more guarded now. "And with my advisor, Vaerlin. They're going to fight until the kingdom is safe. With the gods hunting me, with…" She trailed off, then sighed. "Everything."
Kaelis looked up. "Where does that leave me? The council wants me dead too, don't they?"
She hesitated.
"…Yeah," she admitted. "They do. But I came up with something."
He waited.
She looked away, crossing her arms again. "The only way you'll ever fit in here is if you become king."
Kaelis blinked. "You want to marry me?"
Silas groaned and rubbed her temples. "No, not want. Gods, no. I'm just tired of interviewing and holding royal selections for Hunters, nobles, Adventurers, trying to fake interest or make them think I care about their swords or their sad orphan backstories. I don't get attached easily. I never have. Sometimes I wonder if something's wrong with me but—whatever. The council will only listen to you if you're king. So… yeah. That's the idea. If we get married, it's strictly for the kingdom's purpose. That's it."
Kaelis sat in stunned silence.
"So… you'd only want to marry me just to keep the kingdom standing?"
She didn't look away this time. "Yes."
He appreciated her honesty. A lot, actually.
His thoughts spiraled. He thought about his ex-wife, the betrayal, the fact he was done with love. He wasn't sure he could ever feel it again. But this… this felt useful. Tactical. Honest. Stay in this kingdom. Stay close to the chaos. Find out the truth. Maybe survive long enough to decide what he really wants. Go back to Earth? Maybe. But… dying here felt stupid. Like dying before the story ended.
He stood up.
Stuck his hand out.
"I'll do it," he said. "What do I need to do?"
Silas stared at the offered hand like it was cursed. "Absolutely not. Rule number one—no touching. No holding hands, no surprise hugs, no kissing, And definitely no foot massages. I don't like feet."
"I hate feet too. Guess we're a match made in heaven
And then, from the shadowed archway, a voice rang out—smooth, amused, with just a flicker of menace.
"Hmm."
Silas and Kaelis squealed in pure startled panic, literally grabbing onto each other.
A tall, composed man with a faint smirk and a single eyepatch stepped into the candle light, arms folded like he'd been watching for a while.
Vaerlin.
Silas instantly shoved Kaelis away the moment she realized they were still holding onto each other.
"Ew! Why are you touching me?!" she snapped, brushing herself off like she had just been slimed.
Kaelis threw his hands up in mock offense. "Yougrabbed me too!"
"I was startled! Reflex! You're lucky I didn't stab you again."
"I'm starting to see a pattern here with you and stabbing."
Before Silas could retort, a smooth voice cut through the banter.
"You two seem to be enjoying each other's company."
"…Vaerlin," Silas said, her voice suddenly unsure, her bravado flickering. "I was only here to apologize for… stabbing him. And to make it clear he can leave any time he wants."
Vaerlin chuckled. "Precisely."
He approached Kaelis, examining him with a curious glint beneath his one good eye. "You're the outsider. The summon. Strange… Silas doesn't draw herself to men easily. In fact, never. That's a first."
Kaelis blinked, glancing over at Silas. She crossed her arms tightly and looked away, muttering, "Can we not do this?"
"I'm just observing. It's fascinating."
Vaerlin turned fully to Kaelis. "I've seen what happened. Fought with you. But I'd rather ask you myself. That moment—the one where the chaos took over… What did it feel like?"
Kaelis's expression sobered. He took a breath, the memory already clawing at his mind.
'Out of all questions he could ask me first, he asks me that?'
"It felt… right. Like everything made sense. Like I wasn't weak anymore. I loved it—how strong I felt. How unstoppable. But… I hated it too." His eyes dimmed. "It was like watching myself from the outside. And that thing—whatever it is—that god? I saw it. I don't know how, but I saw it, inside me. Falling with me. And I didn't feel human anymore."
Silas quietly listened, her gaze lingering on him with a subtle flicker of concern.
Vaerlin nodded slowly, taking mental note. "The chaos within you—its presence is loud. We don't know what it fully wants, but Silas has probably told you what we do know."
Kaelis thought back to everything she said—the gods, the kingdom, the offer. He nodded. "Yeah. I know enough to know I'm not walking away. I chose to stay… and become king."
Vaerlin raised an eyebrow, then gave a short laugh. "Huh. You don't seem like king material."
Kaelis shrugged. "I'm not surprised."
"But," Vaerlin continued, "a few things could change that. Being a king here isn't some crown and parade. It means bleeding for people who hate you, being blamed for everything, and standing firm when the gods themselves try to break your walls down." He started pacing. "You'll face politics, nobility backlash, the church's hypocrisy, neighboring kingdoms seeking advantage, trade routes slipping, civil unrest… and worst of all, them. The gods that want the Crown. But now, with a dead god's echo festering inside you, they'll act smarter. They'll move quieter."
Silas added, "And let's not forget Ys'Viruna and her coven. Still out there, still watching."
Kaelis exhaled. "If this all helps me understand what's inside me—fine. I don't care how ugly it gets. I just… don't wanna die without knowing why I was even brought here, when I'm supposed to be some kind of mistake."
"But you don't want to die," Vaerlin said, voice suddenly serious.
Kaelis glanced at him, surprised by the raw insight, but said nothing.
Vaerlin continued, "The truth is, we don't know what happens if you lose control again. You may lash out. Burn this place to the ground. So we have to test you somewhere controlled. Somewhere rage and power must be balanced."
He looked Kaelis in the eye. "You'll go to the Dungeons."
Kaelis gasped, "No!" Dramatically. Then deadpanned, "What's that?"
Silas tried not to laugh. "It's a prison. Far from here. The worst of the worst are sent there. Jethro himself passed judgment on them. Every inmate's committed something horrible."
"Most don't survive long," Vaerlin said. "Magic's suppressed halfway. The wardens are brutal. And you will be there for two weeks."
Kaelis scoffed. "How is sitting in prison supposed to turn me into a king?"
"Because royalty will always be in hostile environments. You'll learn to hold power, not just release it. You'll learn who you are when no one's looking to protect you. You'll feel fear, desperation, maybe anger—but if you can reign in chaos there, you'll learn control."
"And," Silas added, "the wardens sometimes send inmates on suicide hunts—tracking beasts warped by the Black Sphere. Those who perform well… earn things. Not freedom, but favor."
Kaelis groaned. "I'm only doing a week."
Vaerlin grinned. "You're doing two."
Silas rolled her eyes. "I'll send the knight captains to check in. You'll be evaluated. Progress matters. We're not putting a loose cannon on the throne. And I wanna know…what kind of man you are under all that chaos…"
Kaelis let out a long breath and rubbed his face. "Fine. Whatever. Dungeon vacation. Great."
"To test the king beneath the chaos," Vaerlin said, voice grim.
Silas looked at Kaelis, still unsure, still figuring him out. And Kaelis, deep down, realized something…
He wasn't sure if he could survive this. But he had to try.
Vaerlin's voice came cool and final. "The prisoner transport carriages leave at sunset."
Kaelis blinked. "Sunset? That's—soon."
"They're waiting below," Vaerlin added, gesturing to the level beneath the tower. "The ones in the holding cells. Same destination. But you're different, so let me give you a warning: Don't speak of your power. Don't speak of your connection to Silas. And do not speak of your future in this kingdom."
Kaelis nodded, taking that in with unexpected solemnity. "Got it."
A brief pause passed. "So… what happens after this whole dungeon thing? I survive two weeks in a glorified monster pit, then what?"
Silas answered, standing straighter. "If you pass, you'll meet with the staff of the kingdom. Get acquainted with what it means to rule. At the same time…" she hesitated, but only for a second, "we'll begin preparing for the wedding. You and I will be married. The entire kingdom will be invited. And… all that shit."
Kaelis stared at her. "Married. Right." He drifted into silence, before the look on his face turned strangely noble. Regal, even.
Then he began daydreaming dramatically—his mind painting scenes of him seated on an obsidian throne, wearing a jagged royal crown and a deep crimson cloak that dragged behind him like spilled blood. People bowed before him, trembling. Gods cowered and scattered like rats. He waved his hand and decreed that bars stay open past midnight. And somewhere behind him, Silas rolled her eyes while handing him documents to sign.
"Kaelis," Silas snapped, snapping her fingers. "We're still here."
"Sorry," Kaelis mumbled. "Got lost in the dream."
They stared at each other. A beat passed. Their eyes locked.
And then Silas looked away, her expression tight. Her heart thumped once—heavier than before.
'Why the hell do I feel drawn to him?' she thought to herself, face tightening. 'I don't even have any type of feelings for him. He's arrogant. A pain. He's reckless.' She rubbed her temple. Is it because I straddled him? Accidentally. When he was naked?! Her face flushed a deep red, heat rising to her cheeks as she shook her head furiously. "Stupid," she muttered to herself.
Then, without a word, she stood abruptly.
"Good luck," she said quickly, and spun on her heel, walking away so fast her cloak fluttered like a fleeing shadow.
Kaelis watched her leave. The room suddenly felt colder.
Vaerlin remained still beside him. After a moment, he slowly turned to face Kaelis, his one visible eye sharpening with ice.
"I'll say this only once," he said, his voice calm but edged like a sword. "If you do anything—anything—that puts her in danger or threatens this kingdom, I won't hesitate to kill you."
Kaelis looked at him, brows lowering.
"That's not a threat. It's a promise." Vaerlin's tone didn't change. "And it's not hostility. It's duty."
He paced slowly, hands behind his back.
"Every member of this castle staff, every knight, every servant—they all honor Silas to the highest degree. She's… unique. Since she was a girl, she dreamed of being queen. Not for the power—but for the hope. She used to draw a picture of her future husband every night, this blurry, idealistic version of someone who'd stand beside her through everything. And now…"
He looked at Kaelis, not accusingly, but with quiet weight. "She's a young queen. She's exhausted. Dealing with divine politics, with war, with witches, and a Crown the gods are clawing to possess. And she has no king. She's kind, yes—but she's also brutal with honesty. She's thought about running away before."
He turned toward the window.
"But she can't. Not with who her parents were. Not with the hopes people placed in her. She's carrying more than anyone her age should. I probably shouldn't be telling you all this… but you need to know."
Kaelis didn't speak. He didn't joke. He just stood there, absorbing it all.
—
Outside, the shattered castle grounds were slowly reforming. The Divine Architects, robed in shimmering geometric fabrics, floated above the debris, reconstructing shattered stone and obliterated halls with weaving lines of radiant golden sigils. Every piece reattached with artful precision, like a cathedral being built in reverse.
Near the sidelines, Thalia—a small, nervous maid with long white braids and a broom gripped like a weapon—hovered awkwardly among a group of other maids helping with the mess.
Beside her stood Thorn, the lead maid. She was tall, athletic, with short windblown black hair, rolled-up sleeves, calloused hands, and a cocky half-smile that could crack a noble's ego in half. Her boots were muddied, her collar was slightly crooked, and her voice—sharp and unapologetic—cut through the buzz of divine magic as she barked orders.
"If another rock drops on my linens, I swear to the gods I'm cursing this tower myself."
A group of knights approached, trying to act like they weren't all smitten fools.
"Doing this work is for the men, why don't you let us take over? You guys can go relax and freshen up." A knight said.
Thorn replied, "No thanks. Why do you try to romance us every week?"
One of them—young, awkward, and undeniably brave—stepped forward. His name was Ser Calden, a fresh knight from Alistair's squad, with a crooked nose, wide blue eyes, and a habit of gripping his belt when nervous.
He looked directly at Thalia. "Um, if… if you want, you could help me rethread the containment lines around the eastern courtyard? It would really help the Divine Architects reset their frames."
Thalia's eyes widened. "Oh, I—uh—I don't know if I'm allowed to—"
Before she could finish, the other knights tackled Calden in a dramatic pile, throwing arms around his shoulders, pushing him aside.
"Don't make it weird, Calden!"
"He's just flirting, Thalia! Don't trust him!"
"We're all rethreading frames!"
Thalia blinked, overwhelmed, while Thorn sighed so hard it looked like she exhaled her soul. "Idiots," she muttered, tugging Thalia away. "Come on. Before they ask you to marry one of them."
—
High above them all, on a ledge overlooking the castle ruins, Silas sat alone.
She held in her lap a strange, curved instrument—its body crafted of silverwood, strings of dark iron silk pulled taut across a crescent-moon shell. A single rune glowed faintly on its back. It was called a Venyhra. A one-of-a-kind instrument her mother and father made for her on her eighth birthday. It sang like a lullaby and echoed like a dream.
She plucked its strings gently.
The sound drifted down over the castle like mist—haunting, calming, beautiful. Notes that sounded like memory and melancholy danced on the wind.
And for the first time in what felt like weeks, Silas let herself breathe.