Wed to the War King
CHAPTER 7: Of Scars and Sacred Oaths
Queen Aria's POV
The scar on Kael's back was the first thing I noticed
when he removed his shirt that evening.
Not the new wound from the assassin's blade—that one we
tended together, my fingers careful against the healing flesh. No, this was
older. A jagged line cutting diagonally across his shoulder blade, long since
faded to silver.
I traced it without thinking. "This wasn't from
battle."
Kael stilled beneath my touch. The firelight painted his
profile in gold and shadow as he turned to face me. "No."
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken history.
"It was a promise," he said at last, catching
my wrist and pressing my palm flat over the scar. "Made when I was twelve
years old."
The Boy in the Snow
(Kael's Memory)
"The boy's half-dead, Your Majesty."
I woke to unfamiliar voices, my body shaking with fever,
my vision blurred. The last thing I remembered was fleeing my uncle's coup—the
snow turning red beneath my mother's fallen guards.
Then her face swam into view. Queen
Liora of Ravensburn, her dark eyes sharp as the dagger at her belt.
"Kael of Vareen," she murmured, pressing a cool
cloth to my brow. "You look like your father."
I flinched. "He's dead."
"I know." Her hand was warm on my shoulder.
"And my husband with him, in that foolish border skirmish."
The truth settled like ice in my gut. This woman owed me
nothing—less than nothing. Yet when the healers came with their bone saws, she
held my hand. When I screamed, she didn't flinch.
As winter faded, she brought a child to my sickbed—a girl
with wild dark hair and her father's stubborn chin.
"My daughter, Aria," Liora said. "Swear to
me, Kael. Swear you'll protect her when I'm gone."
The branding iron seared my back before I could answer.
The Revelation
(Present Day)
I recoiled from Kael's touch as if burned. "That's
not possible. My mother hated Vareen."
"She hated the men who killed your father,"
Kael corrected softly. "Not the boy bleeding out in her stables."
The fire popped between us. My mother's face swam in my
memory—the way she'd sometimes stare north toward Vareen, her fingers tight
around my shoulders.
"You'll understand one day," she'd
say.
I understood now.
"Why didn't you tell me?" My voice cracked.
Kael's thumb brushed my cheek, coming away wet.
"Would you have believed me? Before all this?"
I thought of our first meeting at the peace talks—how I'd
spat at his feet. How he'd smiled like I'd handed him a gift.
The Test
The attack came at midnight.
Arrows thudded into our bedchamber door as Kael rolled us
both to the floor, his body shielding mine.
"Eliam's supporters?" I gasped, reaching for my
sword.
Kael's grin was feral in the dark. "Let's ask
them."
We fought back-to-back in the corridor, his style
perfectly complementing mine—as if we'd trained together for years instead of
against each other. When the last assassin fell, I turned to find Kael watching
me, chest heaving, his sword dripping onto the marble.
"Still don't trust me?" he challenged.
I pressed my bloodied dagger into his palm. "Prove
me wrong."
His kiss tasted of iron and triumph.
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