Chapter 4: The First Storm
The tension in the air had been building all day. Ilyana could feel it, like the charge before a storm. The servants moved hurriedly through the halls of the palace, eyes downcast, as whispers of unease spread like wildfire. The Kingdom of Fire was bracing for something—though no one dared to speak of what it could be.
Ilyana found herself alone again, sitting in the grand hall, staring at the empty throne that her father had occupied mere days ago. King Rhys was in counsel with Draelen and his advisors, no doubt discussing matters of great importance. She, of course, had been excluded. The thought gnawed at her, deepening the feeling that she was an outsider in her own kingdom, a pawn being moved across a board she couldn't yet see.
The sound of the heavy oak doors creaking open caught her attention. She looked up to see Valeria, Draelen's younger sister, stride into the hall. Dressed in pale blue and silver, Valeria moved with the quiet grace of someone accustomed to observing rather than acting. Ilyana had barely spoken to her since the Frost Kingdom delegation had arrived, but something about her presence now felt different—like the calm before a tempest.
"Princess Ilyana," Valeria greeted, her voice cool and polite, but not unfriendly.
Ilyana inclined her head in return. "Lady Valeria. I didn't expect to see you here."
Valeria offered a small smile. "I didn't expect to find myself here, either. But it seems we are both... out of place at the moment."
Ilyana couldn't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with Valeria. In many ways, the Frost princess must feel as alien in the Fire Kingdom as Draelen did. But while Draelen's discomfort was masked by his icy demeanor, Valeria seemed to carry hers with more subtlety.
"You've noticed it too, haven't you?" Ilyana said, gesturing toward the restless palace. "Something is happening."
Valeria's smile faded, her expression growing more serious. "I'm afraid so. My brother wouldn't tell me everything, but I overheard some of their conversation before being dismissed. There's a threat coming. Not just to your kingdom—but to ours as well."
Ilyana stiffened. "What kind of threat?"
Valeria hesitated, glancing around as if ensuring they were truly alone. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, "The Kingdom of Storms is moving. They've been sending envoys to nearby territories, gathering support. Rumors say their leader, Prince Kaelen, has his sights set on more than just political alliances. He wants power. Real power."
Ilyana's heart skipped a beat. The Kingdom of Storms—known for its fierce warriors and unpredictable weather magic—was not a kingdom to be trifled with. Their prince, Kaelen, was a figure of legend, a storm in human form, as wild and untamed as the winds he commanded.
"Does Draelen know?" she asked.
Valeria nodded. "He does. But it's not just the Kingdom of Storms we should be worried about. Draelen fears something darker is at play. Something that's been moving in the shadows for longer than any of us realize."
Ilyana's mind raced. This alliance with the Frost Kingdom had seemed like a simple political maneuver at first—a way to prevent war between their lands. But now it was clear that there were deeper forces at work, and their marriage was only one piece of a much larger puzzle.
"Why are you telling me this?" Ilyana asked, studying Valeria closely. The Frost princess had no reason to trust her, not yet.
Valeria met her gaze, her pale blue eyes steady. "Because I believe you're more important to this than my brother realizes. I see the way he looks at you, the way he's begun to rely on you. Draelen may not admit it, but you've already become a part of his world—and whether he wants to or not, he will need you."
Ilyana swallowed, unsure of how to respond. She hadn't yet come to terms with her own role in this alliance, let alone the idea that Draelen might actually need her. It seemed impossible—he was the powerful one, the mage of frost who held the fate of his kingdom in his hands. What could she, a princess with no magic, possibly offer him?
"I don't even know what my place in all of this is," Ilyana said quietly, her voice tinged with frustration. "I've been kept in the dark, expected to play the obedient princess while others make decisions about my life."
Valeria stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Perhaps it's time you stopped letting others make those decisions for you."
Ilyana blinked, taken aback by the sudden force behind Valeria's words. It was true—she had been passive, waiting for someone to tell her what to do, what her role should be. But she was a princess, just like Valeria. She had power, even if it wasn't the kind that came from magic.
"What do you suggest?" Ilyana asked, her curiosity piqued.
Valeria smiled again, but this time it was sharper, more knowing. "There's a meeting later today. My brother, your father, and their advisors. They won't expect us to be there. Which is exactly why we should be."
A thrill of excitement ran through Ilyana. The idea of sneaking into a council meeting was dangerous—if they were caught, the consequences could be severe. But she also felt a strange sense of purpose rising within her. For the first time in days, she wasn't just reacting to the situation around her; she was taking control.
"Do you know where it will be?" Ilyana asked, already beginning to plan.
Valeria nodded. "The war room, just beyond the eastern wing. I can get us in. Draelen has shared... certain secrets with me."
Ilyana raised an eyebrow at that, but she didn't question it. If Valeria had a way to gain access, that was all that mattered. They needed answers—answers that wouldn't come unless they sought them out for themselves.
"Then let's do it," Ilyana said, feeling a newfound resolve.
The war room was a place Ilyana had never seen, though she had passed by it many times in the palace. Hidden behind thick stone walls and reinforced with magic, it was where her father and his most trusted advisors met to discuss matters of great importance. As she and Valeria approached the entrance, Ilyana's heart raced, her palms slick with nerves.
Valeria moved swiftly, producing a small silver key from beneath her cloak. She slid it into the lock with practiced ease, and with a soft click, the door creaked open. Ilyana couldn't help but admire her boldness—there was more to Valeria than she had initially thought.
The two of them slipped inside, moving quietly through the dimly lit hallway that led to the main chamber. As they neared the large oak doors, the sound of voices reached them—low and serious, the tone unmistakable.
"... Kaelen won't stop until he has what he wants," Draelen's voice said, hard and cold. "He's already secured alliances with the southern isles. If we don't act soon, we'll be facing a storm unlike anything we've seen."
"Kaelen is a fool," came her father's voice, equally as stern. "But a dangerous one. He's no longer just seeking alliances—he's consolidating power. If he succeeds, both our kingdoms will fall."
Ilyana's breath caught in her throat. So it was true—the Kingdom of Storms was on the move, and Kaelen was preparing for war. A cold dread settled over her as the reality of the situation sank in. Her marriage to Draelen wasn't just about peace anymore—it was about survival.
She glanced at Valeria, who gave her a brief nod. They had heard enough. It was time to leave before anyone discovered them. But as they turned to go, the voices inside the room shifted, and what Draelen said next made Ilyana freeze in place.
"And what of the princess?"
Her father's voice lowered. "She must not know."
Ilyana's heart clenched. They were hiding something from her—something important. She exchanged a look with Valeria, both of them knowing that whatever was being kept from her could change everything.