Ayana’s eyes wandered across the countryside as she lounged on the balcony. Unyielding clouds entombed the world in their harsh clutches, a thousand shades of gray painted on the heavenly canvas. The pines stood naked and brooding, stripped of their needles by the shredding winds.

Servants milled about the snow covered grounds, some laboring in the orchards, some tending to the stables. A few miles to the west, the Black Citadel rose toward the sky, surrounded by snow covered rooftops that glimmered under the morning sun. Argent, the one city even Isei Ilvi could not make any gloomier.

It was almost four weeks since Lucien had told her about the hunt for Ilirion’s descendants. They had come for her once before, and if not for Lucien… She pushed away the memory, before it brought back more unpleasant ones.

What did the Emperor have to do with her ancestors?

She turned her gaze to the far horizon. Years back, during the winter eves spent sitting by the crackling fires with her tribe-mates, Keîn Záka had often narrated tales of ancient feuds between the Noble Covens of Vanthesia and the Lords of Eitheon. She had not paid them much heed back then. Even if those stories contained any truth, many millenia had passed since then.

Why now?

A sigh parted her lips. Whatever the reason for the Emperor’s hostility, she could not take any chances. She was prepared for the worst, and spent most of her time hardening herself to the bitter fact that she was going to part ways with her beloved very soon.

Ayana drew back from the ornate balustrade as a raging gale battered the castle tower. She shivered in her purple gown as a spiteful breeze pressed against her exposed skin, countless piercing needles of ice and fire. She held no fondness for winters, especially when the colorless snow covered the beautiful orchards, meadows, and gardens, hiding the myriad of colors in their pale embrace.

“Lord Lucien has returned from the Citadel, my lady.”

Ayana glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Thank you, Iezabel.”

She held open the crystal door as Ayana entered her living quarters. “Please, take me to him.”

“No need.” Lucien rose from his seat near the fireplace, the dancing glow reflected by his long hair of purest white.

“Excuse me, my lord, my lady.”

Iezabel bowed and took her leave.

Ayana crossed the distance between them and took his hand.

“How are you feeling?” Lucien asked, his voice layered with concern.

“Better than usual,” Ayana said, even though it was a lie. Her body had started rebelling ever since her third month. Her back was killing her, not to mention the cramped muscles, but he did not need to know that. He had enough on his plate without having to worry about her trivial discomforts.

“I presume things did not go well with your brother?” she asked, noting the distress in his eyes.

“Gregor is reluctant to defy Vorigan. He is no different from my father,” Lucien said, a bitter note in his voice. “He gave us two days.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Eydis has sent her vlarik to the Black Citadel. It cannot be a coincidence.”

Ayana felt a tug in her chest. She took a deep breath. “Alas, our time is short.”

“As long as our child is safe, it matters not, my love.”

Their eyes met, and she saw a churning abyss of despair in those blue orbs. No matter how she had prepared for this moment, the pain of parting drove into her like a corroded blade, numbing her mind and senses. She loathed to leave it all behind, to deny her child a normal and happy life, and most of all, to part with her beloved.

Ayana blinked through the tears. “I am sorry I brought this upon you.”

Lucien lifted her chin. “Do not blame yourself, Ayana. I chose my path with my own free will, and I would do it all over again.”

She looked into his eyes. “I will be waiting.”

A smile flickered on his lips. “I shall come for you as soon as my work here is done. I promise,” he said. “I have to make certain they do not come after you.”

Her brow furrowed in anxiety. “What are you planning to do, Lucien?”

When he did not reply, she exhaled. “Whatever it is, please be careful.”

“I will.” His countenance wavered as he let go of her hand. “Gregor has promised a convoy for your protection. They will be here for you at dawn.”

Ayana wiped her eyes and hardened her resolve. If not for her, then for their child. “No, not a convoy. It will draw too much attention.” The last thing she wanted was to be lugged around like some stuck up high-born while he risked his life in the Imperial Capital. “Iezabel shall accompany me.” Iezabel was the only one she could count on besides Lucien, and she was better than any armed escort.

“But in your condition?” he asked, eying her like a fragile crystal ornament.

Ayana frowned, vexed by his skepticism. “You know I am not as weak as I look.” Even if not for her misplaced pride, taking to the roads was too risky, and she would have a better time evading the Empire without a fancy carriage.

A faint smile played on his lips. “In that case, it is time I returned this blade.” He unbelted his sword along with its scabbard and handed it to her.

A moonstone adorned its pommel, and a blood red sunstone glinted on its cross-guard. Buried memories of clash and conflict flitted through her mind as she clasped the wire bound hilt. “Zivnâr,” she whispered. “But I cannot,” she said, her hand trembling as she looked up at him. “You know why.”

“What happened then will not happen again,” he said, “and you will need it to protect someone.” He moved closer and lightly caressed her swollen belly. His eyes shone with such devout adoration, he would go to any lengths to protect the new life growing within her.

Ayana placed her free hand on top of his, a smile of contentment on her face. How she wished this moment would last longer, but she knew her fate would not deem it so.

Lucien pulled her into a gentle embrace and kissed her hair. “Please, be safe,” he whispered.

“I will.” Ayana did not let go, the sword dropping to the floor as she held him tighter, loath to part. She breathed into his chest, warm tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

~•~•~•~•~

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