Chapter 36 Threads of Fire and Starlight

Aurelia

I made it exactly seven steps before my spine remembered I was supposed to be Aurelia Vael Taranis, heir of House Taranis, not some half-trained first-year who forgets how to speak when a boy teases her. Seven steps.

I should have just asked him to coffee. Something simple and harmless.

Would you like to meet at the East Quad café? I know a table by the window where no one will eavesdrop.

That should have been easy. That should have been manageable.

Instead, I froze. Flushed crimson. And walked away like I was retreating from a skirmish I’d accidentally lost.

Again.

What the hell is wrong with me that I have such a hard time communicating with this boy??

I have stared down the High Council without blinking. Negotiated with generals who smelled blood in the water. Dueled the disciples of legendary masters who could turn an opening into a killing stroke in the space of a heartbeat. But one sarcastic comment from Zane Myles, and I stood there like a stunned academy initiate, cheeks burning, mind blank.

And what exactly am I going to say to him when I have him alone and cornered?

Yes, I know I proposed to you in front of half the Capital…

…and my grandfather is now actively plotting to bring you into our House for political leverage…

…but also, my family is complicated and I am currently engaged…

…oh, and by the way, I think I might like you.

…and I’m also your friend from the Crucible Realms — PrincessFlyer — which means we’ve been sparring, bantering, and flirting for months without you realizing it…

…and yeah, so, we should make out, get married, and have three children with terrifying sword skills, and you can be the head of the House because I am pretty sure you’re going to be the most powerful person of the next generation.

And I don’t want you to talk to Serephina because she isn’t worthy of you.

And it pisses me off.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Even thinking that list made me want to step into the nearest Rift and pray it was one-way. Saints above, how do I manage statecraft if I can’t manage a normal conversation with him?

No, it was better this way. Too many ears in the yard, too many eyes tracking every move I made. Approaching him in that moment would have been handing the Capital another round of “Aurelia Vael Taranis and Her Poorly Hidden Obsession” headlines.

Still.

Now he has the upper hand. He’ll remember me walking away. He’ll remember I didn’t have a retort ready, that I let him see me flustered. Again.

“My Lady,” Dara said, appearing out of nowhere.

I could tell she was trying to hide her amusement.

I turned to glare at her, but that didn’t stop her from continuing.

“Uh, why didn’t you just ask him to go somewhere right now—like we talked about, like we planned?”

I waved her off. “It wasn’t time.”

Dara raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, just followed.

The crowd swallowed us as we reached the far archway, the murmur of their gossip fading into the hum of the ward lines overhead. My cheeks had cooled by then, but the memory still burned—and so did the realization that the next time I saw him, I’d have to recover ground.

Privately.

And this time, I wouldn’t walk away.

The academy was in full churn—students streaming between towers, spells flickering across open courtyards, voices tangling in a hundred conversations. But it was all tinted with a single current. I could feel it in the way groups leaned together, in the way their eyes shifted toward the dueling grounds.

Toward him.

A knot of first-years clustered around a glowing rune-board mounted on the wall, the public dueling roster updating in real time. I didn’t mean to stop, but my gaze caught on the scroll of names.

There it was: Zane Myles. He had more than 180 requests, and they were still piling on.

Unbelievable.

Fame had caught up to the man. His anonymity was gone. And with it came the inevitable swarm—recruiters, challengers, dreamers. Everyone would want a piece.

I moved on, weaving through a tide of upperclassmen with the quiet authority that made them step aside. A group of first-years’ whispers trailed after me:

“Did you see the way he moved? Like he was dancing—”

“I heard he’s a secret Sword Saint—”

“So mysterious… so intense…”

I rolled my eyes. Already, the myth was taking shape. They were writing their own version of him before they’d even spoken a word to the boy himself. He would hate it.

Past the club row, banners fluttered—Inscription Guild, Alchemy Society, Manaweavers. Then something new.

A hastily painted sign: Zane Myles Fan Club.

A ring of students—mostly girls—were crowded around a mana-crystal, replaying his match against Vane Trellian frame by painstaking frame. They spoke about his fight with the Death Knight like they would a historical event—debating his stance, his posture, his individual moves. They argued about his preferences, his likely motivations, and whether he would be swept up by the Kingdom, her allies, or her enemies.

It was incredible how animated the debate was.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t tell them he was just a boy trying to keep his family above water. The story they wanted was louder.

Even here, the air felt charged. Not for me. For him.

By the time I reached my suite, my cheeks were still warm. The door clicked shut behind me, sealing off the noise. I crossed to the balcony and gripped the silverleaf railing, the city of New Liora glittering beneath a pale sky.

I thought of his smile—small, infuriating, just enough to make me flush. Of the way he moved in the ring, each strike stripped to necessity, no waste. Of his eyes on me—wary, but with something else underneath.

I thought about his mana, its purity, how it seemed to shine like a beacon.

Then I thought of myself. Of the heiress mask I’ve worn so long it’s nearly become my skin. Today, for the briefest moment, it had slipped. And he’d seen the girl beneath.

I should have said something. Coffee. A stroll. Anything.

Instead, I let him see me flustered—and walked away.

What was I going to say, anyway?

I thought again about what I wanted to say.

Hello, my House wants to claim you for politics, I’m engaged, I’m your sparring partner from the Crucible Realms, and I also might want to kiss you.

Saints help me. It didn’t sound any better the second time.

No. The timing wasn’t right. Not with all those eyes, all those questions. But soon.

Very soon.

I turned from the railing, my resolve settling like steel. Next time, I wouldn’t walk away. Not until I understood exactly what he was… and why he felt like the most dangerous, real thing I’d ever met.