The dukes exchanged glances before, one by one, they accepted the agreement. They warned one another not to betray the pact before the meeting adjourned. Kaela rose from her seat, followed by her brother, Vaelvalis. The two walked toward their guest chambers, their steps slow but certain. Before they left the hall, Kaelric looked toward Kaela. “Don’t forget—attend the dinner tonight before you return to Thalasson tomorrow.” Kaela offered a thin smile. “Of course.”

  With that, the meeting ended. The air in the hall felt lighter, yet beneath the spoken words the seeds of caution lingered in each party’s chest. Once inside their rooms, Princess Kaela stood by the window, letting the cool late-afternoon breeze caress her face. The waning sun cast her silhouette on the glass, creating a shadow that seemed deeper than usual. The chamber smelled of distinctive ebony wood, mingled with the scent of autumn flowers carried in from the palace gardens. Vaelvalis sat in a chair in the corner, his back slightly hunched, jaw set as though holding something in. His bright eyes watched Kaela with an unease that had not fully eased.

  “You must control your temper, Vael,” Kaela’s voice was soft but firm. “If you keep letting anger rule you, all of this will fail.” Vaelvalis exhaled slowly, his clenched fingers loosening bit by bit. “But this is a major decision, Kaela. Is this truly in line with your plan?” Kaela turned; the sunlight framing her face made her expression hard to read. “Politics, brother. Not every problem is solved with violence.” She stepped closer, her voice lower now. “Trading with Aurelion is important—they are our chief supplier of food. But their prices and quality don’t match Valterion’s. Now, we gain supplies that are cheaper and of better quality.”

  Vaelvalis continued to regard her, unconvinced. Kaela drew a slow breath and walked to the table, letting her fingers rest on the cool wood. “Besides, how long can they hold open sea lanes? Their fleet not only defends Aurelion but battles other threats as well.” She lifted her gaze back to Vaelvalis, her tone lowered as if for their ears alone. “If that prophecy of ruin is true, we must ensure our kingdom has enough stores before everything changes. The world will be thrown into chaos, and those unprepared will fall.”

  Vaelvalis pondered, but Kaela gave him no room to reply. She patted his shoulder and offered a faint smile. “Prepare yourself, then. We leave tomorrow.” Kaela stepped out of the chamber, letting the evening breeze flow in. The corridor air felt cooler, carrying the scent of dew settling in the palace gardens. The guards on duty tried to fall in step, but she raised one hand with a graceful motion. “I’m only walking the palace grounds—rest for now.”

  Passing through the garden, her steps stalled when she saw a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall: Prince Alaric. “Princess Kaela,” he called, his voice calmer than before. “I wish to apologize for earlier.” Kaela regarded him for a moment, then inclined her head. “I understand. War tires not only the body but the mind as well.”

  Alaric moved closer, measured in his motions, like one accustomed to bearing pressure. “Let me accompany you for a walk,” he offered. Kaela at first refused, but Alaric persisted. At last they strolled together toward a small garden near the palace. The dimming sunlight gilded the leaves in amber; the air carried the scent of earth beginning to dry. “It seems we share the same fate,” Alaric said suddenly, softer than before. “I may fight as fiercely as I can, yet my destiny remains—to be a prince. My brother will be king.”

  Princess Kaela turned to him, her eyes sparkling in the evening light. “Title is not everything, Prince Alaric. I can still do much for my people even if I will not be queen. Prince, princess, king, or counselor—each has a role in shaping a kingdom.” Alaric exhaled and looked at Kaela with new regard. “You are wise, Princess Kaela. I see you think far ahead.”

  He fell silent for a moment, then resumed in a sterner tone. “I am no fool, Kaela. I have long been immersed in politics, as my brother has. So tell me plainly—what is your principal aim with this agreement?” Kaela studied him, weighing his earnest expression. “It’s about trade, Alaric. I want to ensure my kingdom’s economy remains stable, that my people prosper. Nothing more.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Alaric’s gaze sharpened. “Is that so?” Kaela nodded and rose from the garden bench. As she began to leave, Alaric suddenly caught her wrist. “Do you think I don’t know?” he said in a low voice. “With this pact you gain cheaper, higher-quality supplies. But when Valterion begins to exhaust its own resources while blockading Aurelion’s trade routes, we will divert supplies to support our fleet and armies. What then? You will accuse us of breaking our word, won’t you?”

  Kaela remained silent. Alaric let out a short laugh. “You do not know our kingdom, Kaela. We can provision a long war—centuries if need be. If your plan was to stockpile supplies to resell them to Aurelion later, you are gravely mistaken. Our fleet will not stand down.” Kaela met Alaric’s eyes, then slowly freed her wrist from his hold. “You’re right, Alaric,” she said softly. “I know your kingdom’s capacity. And you know I am not one to decide lightly.”

  She turned and walked away, leaving Alaric standing to mull over her words. Kaela smiled to herself. “If the prophecy is true, even Valterion will struggle. Let time and nature answer that, Alaric.”

  Prince Alaric remained where he was, eyes fixed on the garden swallowed by the orange of dusk. His thoughts spun with Kaela’s words and deeds—what did Thalasson truly intend? Why did everything feel like part of some far larger design? He drew a long breath; the cooling evening air touched his skin, smelling of dry leaves and loam. A thin smile formed on his face—either because he had finally found a flaw in Kaela’s strategy, or because he’d underestimated her. “Perhaps Princess Kaela underestimates Valterion… or perhaps it is I who have misjudged her,” he murmured before turning and walking away, his mind still wandering.

  That night the Great Hall of Valterion glowed with candlelight, golden reflections dancing on silver goblets and neatly set porcelain plates. The scent of roasted meat spiced from central Chalentos mingled with the deep bouquet of red wine poured into crystal, filling the air with a warmth almost soothing. This banquet was a farewell for the Thalasson delegation before their departure from Valterion—a moment marking an unofficial alliance between the two kingdoms. In agreeing to cut trade with Aurelion, Thalasson had, in effect, become Valterion’s ally in this conflict.

  Princess Kaela sat composed, slender fingers curled around a goblet of wine, eyes fixed on the liquid as if contemplating some unspoken thought. Opposite her, Prince Alaric stole glances now and then, his mind still occupied by their earlier conversation. He also watched Vaelvalis and the other elves in the room, as he always did—measuring the surroundings. His gaze was sharp and discerning. In another corner, Queen Lythienne sat with regal poise beside King Kaelric, her expression controlled. Yet Alaric’s glances toward her suggested avoidance—rumors of their improper liaison had long circulated, and the more they tried to evade them, the harder the gossip clung.

  The dinner proceeded without incident. Courtly conversation flowed politely; the clink of silver punctuated occasional laughter. But beneath the veneer of courtesy, a faint tension lingered. This was not merely a farewell banquet—this was the opening move in a reshaping of power across Chalentos.

  When the meal ended, the elves of Thalasson excused themselves and returned to their guest chambers. A cool night breeze greeted them along the palace’s stone corridors, carrying the distant salt tang of sea and the lingering perfume of garden blooms. They passed the evening in relative peace, each mind turning over its own private concerns.

  Tyrdahn, Lumithar 20, 528 EK

  At dawn, when the sun first painted the horizon in soft gold, the Thalasson delegation stood ready in the palace courtyard, arrayed in neat lines as the morning breeze blew cool from the east. Princess Kaela inclined her head slightly in a gesture of thanks. “We are grateful for the hospitality and the feast Valterion has offered,” she said, voice calm but weighty.

  King Kaelric nodded; something inscrutable flickered in his sharp gaze. “Your journey is long, and Draemoria will be a fitting rest before you proceed to Seabright.”

  Prince Vaelvalis received a letter from King Kaelric—an assurance that they would be well hosted in Draemoria, Valterion’s largest port city. Their route would lead them north through Draemoria for two to three days, then onward to Seabright, another one to two days’ travel.

  The king’s voice carried meaning as he continued, “We hope Thalasson will remember Valterion’s kindness in the days to come.”

  Princess Kaela smiled faintly. “History will decide everything.”

  With that, they mounted their horses and departed the palace yard with steady strides. Behind the courteous farewell lay something far greater set into motion. This agreement—this decision—might well be the beginning of Thalasson’s rise to become the strongest trading center in Chalentos in years to come.

  If you'd like to light one little light for me:

  ??https://ko-fi.com/barunamarch

  But simply reading and enjoying this tale is more than enough—I am already deeply grateful.