After their kiss, everything changes—but nothing does, too. Elira and Kael remain composed in public, but the air between them is charged. A glance. A brush of hands. A quiet moment by the hearth. Everyone notices, but no one dares to ask.
Soon, a letter arrives from the capital: The King is dying.
He summons Elira to name her as his heir, but she refuses.
"I've never wanted a throne. I want peace, and I want to build it in the North. With Kael."
The court explodes with rumors. Nobles call her ungrateful, foolish. But Kael stands beside her during the audience, his hand on his sword.
"She doesn't need a crown to lead," he says. "She already commands the loyalty of every element—and every soul who matters."
The King, weary but proud, grants Elira autonomy over the Northern Territories. "Build your kingdom, Daughter."
And with that, Elira becomes queen in all but name.