Rain slicked the palace rooftops by morning, turning stone paths into glass and soaking banners into colorless rags. But Elara didn't mind the storm.
She walked through it.
Unhooded. Calm.
Every drop of rain that struck her skin hissed and evaporated, steam curling around her like a second veil.
"You're becoming a rumor," M said, matching her pace under the eastern balcony. "Some say you're not human. Others think you were born of the Stone itself."
"What do you think?" she asked, without turning.
"I think you haven't even begun to burn."
Down in the city, markets stirred. Word of the Flamebearer's trial and Kael's arrival had rippled through the streets like wind in dry grass.
And through it all, one question spread faster than the gossip:
Would the stone choose again?
In the Temple of Embers, whispers filled the sacred halls. A second Choosing Ceremony was being planned. Not by the royals but by the High Priests.
"The flame has never chosen twice," one elder muttered.
"It may be tradition," another said, "but what if the fire still holds secrets?"
And quietly, behind closed doors, the Empress began to listen.
Kael found Elara again that afternoon, not in the gardens or training courts but in the old library, where even the windows were too proud to let in full light.
"I thought you preferred storms," he said.
"I prefer quiet." She didn't look up from the scroll. "And books don't ask questions they already know the answer to."
He approached slowly. "Do you think the fire will choose again?"
She closed the scroll. "I think it already has. Everyone else is just catching up."
"You keep saying things that sound like riddles."
"Maybe I'm a riddle."
Kael smiled. "I like riddles."
Elara finally looked at him. "Then you'll enjoy being wrong."
They stood there, surrounded by the scent of ink and parchment and old magic, as something sharp and strange passed between them.
Not romance.
Not rivalry.
Recognition.
Later that evening, a feast was announced.
Not in Elara's honor.
Not in Kael's.
But to celebrate the beginning of a new Choosing Ritual.
The hall buzzed with excitement. The Empress gave a carefully worded speech about unity and tradition. Isla preened beside her, glittering in red and garnet.
Elara remained silent.
Until her name was called.
"Elara of the Flame," the High Priest announced"Will you stand as witness to the next Choosing?"
The room hushed.
Kael's gaze found her instantly.
The Empress waited, masked in diplomacy.
Elara rose slowly. Her voice was calm, clear.
"I will stand. But I will not kneel."
And the room ripped with more than applause.
It stirred with fear.