The palace felt different after Lila met Ashkar, the Fire King.
Every breath of wind carried a trace of heat, like the world itself had acknowledged the bond she now shared with flame. The mark on her palm still glowed faintly beneath her skin, a living ember that pulsed when she thought of Cassian—or danger.
And there was danger. She felt it in Isolde's quickened footsteps, in the way the guards checked corners and glanced over their shoulders too often. Whispers stirred among the nobles. Something was coming.
But Lila's focus remained on Cassian.
She found him in the garden that morning, beneath the shade of the arbor. He moved slowly, one hand trailing along the carved wood as he walked. His eyes were still sightless, but his steps were sure.
"You're outside," Lila said, stepping beside him.
"I needed to breathe something other than stone," he replied. "Isolde's finally stopped hovering."
"She worries about you."
"She worries about what I represent. If I die, the Drakaris line dies with me. The kingdom fractures."
"Then you can't die," Lila said simply.
He turned toward her voice. "That confident in your magic already?"
"No," she admitted, "but I have fire now. And I have you."
Cassian let out a short breath that might've been a laugh. "You talk like a knight."
"I feel more like a squire."
They walked in companionable silence. Lila noticed how the garden seemed to respond to him—flowers tilting open as he passed, vines shifting subtly to clear his path.
"You're connected to this place," she said. "Even with the curse."
"I was born here," he said quietly. "My mother used to say the blood of fire runs through the roots of this land. Maybe it still remembers me."
The mark on her palm warmed, as if in agreement.
Suddenly, Cassian stopped. His head lifted. "Someone's watching."
"What?"
A rustle in the hedge.
Before she could move, a dagger sliced through the air—aimed straight at her.
Instinct took over.
Fire erupted from her hand, catching the blade midair. It hissed as it hit the grass, blackened and useless.
Cassian's head turned. "More are coming."
Three cloaked figures emerged from the shadows, faces hidden behind veils. Silent. Armed.
Lila stepped in front of Cassian, her firemark blazing. "Get back."
One assassin lunged.
She raised her palm. A ring of fire surged forward, halting the attackers. The flame spared the garden and Cassian—wild, yet controlled.
But one slipped beneath it.
Lila dodged—barely. The blade sliced her shoulder. Pain flared.
Before she could retaliate, Cassian moved.
Though blind, he stepped into the attack with uncanny speed. He grabbed the assassin's wrist and twisted. The blade fell. Cassian slammed a knee into the figure's chest, knocking them down.
"Second one—right!" he called.
Lila turned, raised her hand, and blasted fire. The remaining two attackers scattered—one fleeing into the hedge, the other vanishing in a cloud of smoke.
Silence returned.
Breathing hard, Lila dropped beside Cassian. "You're hurt."
"I'm fine," he said. A thin line of blood ran down his cheek.
"You can't see—how did you—?"
"I could hear their steps. And feel your fire."
She stared at him. "You used my flame to find them?"
He gave a faint, grim smile. "I told you. Instinct."
Then came the sound of running footsteps. Isolde and the guards burst into the clearing.
Isolde's eyes swept over the scorched path and the fallen attacker.
Her expression darkened. "It's starting."
End of Chapter 7