The fire died down. The vision vanished.
Solomon turned to his soldiers. They were looking at him with confusion. They hadn't seen the dragon. They only saw their lord walking into the fire like a madman until they pulled him back.
Solomon looked at the charred remains.
Do gods exist? In the world of Ice and Fire, the answer is yes.
He had just triggered a ritual. Burning a mountain of heads was a massive offering of "King's Blood" in a way—hundreds of souls released at once.
The God of Flame and Shadow. R'hllor. The Lord of Light.
Solomon had never heard of R'hllor showing his true form. But that dragon... it felt like the essence of fire itself.
The air smelled of ozone and ancient heat.
Solomon took a deep breath, his heart racing. That connection was real.
Why did it look at him? Was it the scale of the sacrifice? Or was it him?
His reincarnation... his strength... his adaptability. Was he R'hllor's champion?
The thought chilled him to the bone.
The Lord of Light was terrifying. His followers burned people alive. He existed solely to fight the Great Other—the god of ice and death. He didn't care about human morality.
Solomon didn't want to be a pawn in a cosmic war. Gods don't give gifts for free. The price would be unbearable.
"Render unto mortals that which is mortal," Solomon muttered to himself.
I need to stay away from fire rituals.
Lady Rona woke with a start.
The room was empty.
Panic seized her heart. She felt safe only when Solomon was near. Without him, the terror of the last few days rushed back.
"Lord Solomon?" she called out, her voice raspy.
No answer.
She threw off the covers and ran barefoot to the door.
Two strange soldiers stood guard. They stared straight ahead, ignoring her.
"Where is Lord Solomon?" she asked desperately.
One soldier stepped aside to let her pass but said nothing.
Rona ran down the hallway. Every few paces, another strange soldier stood guard. The castle felt different. Cold. Alien.
It wasn't her home anymore.
Where were her servants? Where were the faces she knew? Gone. All gone.
Doubt crept in. Did he do this? Is he taking my castle too?
She stumbled, scraping her foot, but didn't feel the pain. Tears blurred her vision. She knew the truth, but she didn't want to believe it.
"My Lady, you are awake."
A warm, cheerful voice came from behind her.
Rona spun around.
Solomon stood there, bathed in the morning light, smiling. He held a tray with steaming porridge and bread.
"Lord Solomon!"
The doubt vanished instantly. The fear evaporated. She didn't care about the truth anymore. She just needed him.
She threw herself into his arms, trembling.
Solomon caught her easily, letting her bury her face in his chest.
"It's alright, My Lady," he said, stroking her hair like a pet. "It's all over."
He led her to a chair and sat beside her.
"Those soldiers... I don't know them..." Rona sobbed, pointing at the guards.
"They are my men," Solomon explained gently. "I have purged the traitors from the castle. You are safe now."
He looked into her pale face. "As long as I am here, no one can hurt you."
Except me.
Rona stared at him. She knew, deep down, what had happened. But she pushed the thought away.
"I have brought grain into the storehouse," Solomon said, pointing out the window. "Enough to last you through the winter."
Don't ask where it came from.
"Really?" Her eyes lit up.
"Of course." Solomon smiled. "And I will share half of my own spoils with you. Your lands will recover."
Rona felt like she had been lifted from hell to heaven.
She stood up, cupped Solomon's face in her hands, and planted a soft, wet kiss on his cheek.
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