Page 78 of Unravelled

Mira opened her eyes to silence. Not the hush of a stone chamber, but real silence.

Vast and alive. The ground beneath her was glass, smooth and cold, stretching into infinity.

Beneath it, stars pulsed like the heartbeat of some slumbering giant, their light flickering softly, steadily, as if waiting for her to move.

Above her, only blackness. Not empty. Not dead. But watching. Endless.

She stood barefoot, her breath fogging slightly in the chill that wasn’t air.

The quiet pressed close around her shoulders, familiar now.

Too familiar. Danlea was already there. She stood some paces ahead, robed in starlight that shifted like silk in a current.

Her face was calm, lined not with age but with knowledge.

When she looked at Mira, her milky eyes were clear.

"Torvyn is gone," Mira whispered, her voice barely holding. Tears streamed down her face, hot and unrelenting, as the words hung in the silence like a final breath.

Danlea didn’t flinch. She only nodded once, as if acknowledging not just the death, but the wound it had left behind.

Mira took a staggering step forward. Her feet slid slightly on the glass, and her hands opened helplessly at her sides.

“They took him from me,” she said, voice cracking.

Guilt churned in her chest like broken glass. She had been too late. Always too late. Her hands trembled. The glass beneath her feet seemed to pulse with her grief, each flicker of starlight echoing the tremor in her chest.

“I didn’t get to choose,” she said. “He didn’t get to choose.”

Danlea’s silver gaze softened. “There were many possible choices,” she murmured. A thread of sorrow wove through her voice. “But in all of them, your brother was lost at this point.”

Mira clenched her fists. Her nails dug into her palms as her knees buckled.

Her voice was nothing but breath, the ghost of all the things she couldn’t say.“He died alone.”

Danlea stepped forward. She knelt, her starlit robe pooling across the glass, and lifted a hand, not to touch, but to gesture.

"He did not die alone.” Danlea pointed to a single glowing point in the threads beneath their feet. Danlea’s hand hovered above the tangled strands of gold.

The light pulsed beneath her fingers. In that glow, Mira saw him. Torvyn. A flash of him in the moment just before the end. She saw him being welcomed by celestial hands as the light faded.

“He was welcomed with open arms,” Danlea whispered. “His name is written in the stars. Not as a soldier, or a traitor but as a brother. As your brother.”

Her palms pressed to the stars beneath her. The guilt bled out of her. Mira wept, her shoulders trembling as her breath caught over and over in her throat. The ache in her chest was endless. A hollow cavern too vast to fill.

Danlea rose and extended a hand. “Come,” she said gently. “We’ve lingered here long enough. Even here, I can feel Ren's concern rolling off you."

Mira hesitated, still cradling the ache that would never quite leave her.

But slowly, she reached up, her fingers brushing Danlea’s palm.

The Queen’s hand closed over hers. Threads ignited like dawn, and the black above cracked open, just a sliver, letting something brighter pour through. And the world shifted.

???

Mira surfaced slowly, dragged from the depths of something vast and unknowable.

Her body felt like stone, weighted and cold against the smooth marble floor of the observatory.

The dim candlelight flickered at the edges of her vision, casting long, skeletal shadows that stretched across the walls like watching figures.

Voices drifted around her, muffled, distant. Echoes through water. She lay still, unable to move, her limbs numb, her thoughts sluggish. The weight of the other place pressed down on her, and yet the moment she had lived above the stars was already slipping away, retreating like the tide.

“Truly, I am sorry for the dramatics,” Queen Danlea’s voice wove through the murmurs, smooth as silk. “It appears Mira’s mind could not withstand the intrusion. Some are simply too delicate for such direct sight.”

A lie. Mira’s eyelids fluttered. She had not crumbled. The Queen had not torn through her mind at all.

“She did not know of her brother's death until it occurred. She has done no wrong.” Danlea declared .

A murmur rippled through the council, tension breaking like ice beneath a rising sun. Some sighed in relief. Others shifted uneasily. Ren stood tense, his hands gripping the arms of his chair, white-knuckled, barely breathing, gaze locked on Mira as if willing her to wake fully.

Danlea turned toward her, the soft sweep of her gown whispering against the floor. Her expression remained gentle, her lips curved in a smile that might have seemed motherly.

“Mira?” Danlea whispered, her voice like a caress over the room. “Are you awake?” Mira forced her lips to part, her throat raw.

“Yes.” The word was jagged, like glass against her tongue.

“There now,” Danlea soothed, stepping closer. “You gave us quite a fright. I hope you do not mind my little intrusion. It was necessary, you see, to clear your name.” She turned slightly, addressing the council. “And it is clear.”

Silence.

“This is a farce.” Asric’s voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

Mira flinched, her body still weak, still aching, but her pulse spiked. Ren’s head snapped toward him sharply, his dark eyes flashing with a warning.

“This is an outrage.” Asric continued as he took a step forward.Toward the Queen, toward Mira.

“You expect us to believe this? That in all her time near the resistance, in the company of known conspirators, she knew nothing? That she never whispered secrets in the dark?” His teeth bared in something that was not quite a sneer, not quite a snarl.

Mira’s stomach turned. He was cornering her, framing her as both too weak to be useful, but too dangerous to be free.

“She knows nothing,” Danlea repeated, her voice even.

“She is a liability,” Asric pressed, stepping closer. “I demand her resignation from this council.”

Danlea’s voice was quiet. Lethal. “Are you questioning my loyalty or my ability, Lord Asric?”

Asric stilled.

Mira glanced at Ren and saw the edges of him cracking. Saw the regret in his gaze, the apology he did not speak. His lips parted, as if to say something, as if he wanted to reach for her. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

The Queen inclined her head slightly, her voice once more filling the room. “The council extends its sincerest apologies to Mira. For both the loss of your brother and the accusations today.”

Mira did not feel relief. She rose, slow, deliberate, and returned to her seat. The chair beneath her was solid, grounding, but the council chamber itself seemed distant, the voices around her blurring into something detached, something irrelevant.

Ren’s voice cut through the room. “The King of Kharador has sent word this morning”, each word sharp with purpose. “He is insisting on diplomatic talks in a few days time”

The effect was immediate. More than one noble stiffened in their seat. Lord Edric’s mouth parted slightly before he caught himself, his frown deepening. Brenna Helmard sat back, calculating. Even Danlea’s brow lifted a fraction.

Ren leaned forward, his hands braced against the polished wood.

“We cannot refuse him, the guard will be split, half will remain stationed here for the peace talks, the other half deployed to reinforce the cities most vulnerable to attack. A standing force in the outer regions will not only deter Kharador, but it will remind the people that we have not abandoned them.”

Edric frowned. “That will spread our forces thin.”

“Less so than if we continue trying to fight a war against our own people and an invading army at the same time,” Ren countered.

Danlea spoke, “My army will continue to defend Bharalyn, doubling our forces.” The murmurs quieted.

The Queen’s milky eyes shone as she regarded the council. “You argue over how to end this insurgence. But what the Regent has recognized is the greater truth, it is not over. And it will not be, until Bharalyn is united again, from its capital to its farthest villages.”

Danlea's gaze swept over the council. “If you crush the resistance, another will rise. If you leave your people to suffer, they will look to Kharador for salvation.”

Silence hung in the air. Ren straightened. “Then let us decide.” His voice was clear, firm. “If we are to move forward, we must do so together. We vote now, on a plan that does not simply continue this war, but seeks to end it before Bharalyn collapses from within.”

His gaze swept the room. “All those in favor of bolstering our defenses while also rebuilding the lands we have left to ruin, of ensuring Bharalyn is worth fighting for, raise your hand. ”

A beat. Then, one by one, hands lifted. First Danlea, calm and assured. Then Brenna Helmard, her sharp gaze flicking toward Ren before she raised her hand. More followed. The murmurs of uncertainty had faded, replaced by grim resolve. They cast their votes, one after another.

Mira’s hand rose. She glanced at Ren across the room. His eyes met hers, steady and waiting. The knot in her chest, wound tight from grief and silence, loosened. She raised her hand higher. Clear. Unshaking. Her voice wasn’t needed, her vote was enough.

All but two. Lord Asric’s arms remained folded, his jaw tight with disapproval. Lord Edric hesitated but ultimately kept his hand down, glancing between Ren and the others.

Ren’s eyes met Asric’s. “Dissent is your right,” he said evenly. “But the council has spoken.”

The Queen nodded once. “Then it is decided.”

???

Council matters had dragged on until dusk, the weight of debate around supplies and allocations pressing down on Mira.