The Hollow Palace breathed around her like a creature waiting to devour its prey.
Aelia hadn't moved from the edge of her bed in hours. The blankets were still twisted from when Kael had thrown her down like a shattered relic. Her hands were scraped from fighting. Her knees bruised. Her heart — cracked in places she hadn't known existed.
It was her first night back.
And it already felt like a prison sentence.
> "You weren't supposed to matter."
"You're just here to save the realm."
She whispered his words over and over again, like curses meant to numb her mind.
They didn't.
---
The room was dim, lit only by the faint silver runes in the walls — symbols carved into the stone to keep the Hollow Realm stable. But they glowed tonight like they were watching her. Judging her.
She thought of escaping again. Of throwing herself into the fire. Of fading completely.
But then—
A knock.
So gentle she almost thought she imagined it.
Another knock, then a voice. Low, male, calm.
> "Aelia?"
She stiffened.
The voice wasn't Kael's. It didn't carry that sharp edge of control or the iron-cold authority she'd come to dread.
It was…
Softer.
Measured.
"I know it's late," the voice continued, muffled through the door. "But I thought you might want someone to talk to. Even if it's not him."
---
She hesitated.
Then rose slowly, dragging her cloak around her, bare feet silent on the marble. She opened the door just slightly.
The man at the threshold stood tall, wrapped in sapphire robes trimmed with silver. He had night-dark hair pulled back loosely, and a scar across one brow. His eyes were storm-gray, unreadable, but not unkind.
"You," she said.
He smiled faintly. "I suppose Kael never bothered to introduce us properly."
"You're… Lord Thorian."
He gave a slight bow. "Kael's oldest advisor. And, depending on the hour, his most annoying critic."
Aelia didn't open the door any further. "Why are you here?"
Thorian's expression shifted — the smile fading, his voice turning serious.
"Because I saw how he brought you back tonight. And someone should ask if you're still breathing."
---
She opened the door all the way.
He entered slowly, taking in the room like it was sacred ground. His eyes lingered not on the bed or her disheveled state, but on the blood at her wrist, the bruises half-hidden by her sleeves.
He didn't comment.
Didn't ask.
Just saw.
---
"I've known Kael for more than a century," he said after a long silence, "but tonight… I barely recognized him."
Aelia sat on the far side of the bed again. "Maybe he was finally being honest."
Thorian leaned against the windowsill. "He's never been honest. Not with himself. Not with anyone."
Aelia scoffed. "You sound like you pity him."
"I don't," he said quickly. "But I understand him. Which is worse."
---
They sat in stillness for a while.
The palace creaked around them, wind brushing through cracks in the tower stones. Somewhere far below, a bell chimed — one of the ancient alarms Kael rarely used anymore.
Thorian's gaze slid to her face.
"Do you know why he really brought you here?"
She stiffened. "To save the realm."
"Partly," he said. "But not the whole reason."
She looked up sharply.
"Lysara told him, before she died, that the realm would fall not because of enemies from without—but from within. From betrayal. From blindness."
He stepped toward her, careful, slow.
"And Kael believed that prophecy was about you."
---
Aelia's throat tightened.
"So he never trusted me," she whispered.
Thorian sat beside her, leaving a respectful gap. "He doesn't trust anyone. But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel."
She turned to him, brows furrowed. "He told me he regretted the kiss."
"He lied."
A beat of silence.
"How do you know?"
Thorian met her eyes. "Because I've known Kael long enough to recognize the one thing he's never been able to control — his guilt. And his heart."
He stood.
She rose too, slowly, uncertain.
"And you?" she asked. "Why are you here, really?"
He paused. A long moment. His voice was quieter this time.
> "Because I've spent a century watching Kael destroy everything good that ever tried to love him."
His eyes were on her now.
> "And I couldn't stand by and let him do it again."
---
Aelia's breath caught in her throat.
There was something in Thorian's gaze — gentle, but not weak. Wounded, but not broken.
"You don't even know me," she whispered.
"I've watched enough to want to," he said.
---
She turned away quickly, heart pounding, unsure why.
A thousand emotions collided in her chest. Shame. Longing. Fear. The echo of Kael's touch. The ache of Thorian's kindness.
And somewhere in the mix, something dangerous bloomed.
Hope.
---
Thorian moved to the door.
"If you ever need to speak truth," he said, "come to the garden near the east tower. I'll wait."
Aelia opened her mouth. But no words came.
He paused once more.
Then said softly:
> "You deserve more than chains, Aelia."
And he left.
---
She didn't sleep that night.
But she didn't cry either.
Instead, she stood by the window as the Hollow sun never rose, and wondered:
> What if the one who sees you in silence is more dangerous than the one who kissed you in fire?
---