The palace halls had never felt so heavy with silence. Aelion moved through them as though the very walls pressed closer with every step, gilded pillars casting long shadows that swallowed him whole. Behind him, steady as ever, was Kealen—his presence less of a shadow and more of a shield. The bond between them had grown stronger with every trial, but with strength came vulnerability. They both knew it: the closer they became, the greater the risk of discovery.
Tonight, there was no comfort in the familiar marble floors or the tapestries depicting old victories. Tonight, whispers slithered in the corners. Spies, informants, and traitors seemed to breed in the dark like moths to fire.
"They're watching you," Kealen murmured, his voice so low it could have been mistaken for the wind.
Aelion turned slightly, eyes narrowing. "Do you know who?"
Kealen's amber gaze darted to the far end of the corridor, where two figures lingered too long before bowing and vanishing behind a pillar. "Not yet. But they're everywhere."
Aelion's lips tightened. He had always known the court was a nest of serpents, but now he felt them circling with fangs bared. And in the center of it all stood the forbidden affection he shared with Kealen. If revealed, it could shatter not only his claim to the throne but Kealen's very life.
Yet even knowing this, he could not bring himself to step away.
They reached his chamber, its golden doors tall and polished, reflecting the flicker of torchlight. Kealen pushed them open and scanned the room as he always did, methodical and sharp. Only when he was certain it was safe did he nod for Aelion to enter.
The prince walked past, pausing at the balcony. The night air carried the scent of rain and iron, a storm brewing on the horizon. He stared at it, chest tight, before speaking.
"Do you ever regret it?" he asked softly.
Behind him, Kealen closed the door. "Regret what?"
"This… us." Aelion didn't turn. "Every time I look at you, I know I'm risking everything. My crown. My name. Your life. Sometimes I wonder if I'm being selfish."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, as tense as a drawn bowstring. Then Kealen crossed the room, stopping only when he was close enough that Aelion could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
"You're not selfish," Kealen said, his voice steady. "You're human. You want. You feel. And so do I."
Finally, Aelion looked at him, and in the flickering lamplight, Kealen's face was more striking than ever—sharp angles softened by loyalty, eyes burning with an emotion he tried to mask but never could.
"But if they discover us…" Aelion's words faltered, choked with fear.
"Then let them," Kealen interrupted, his hand brushing against Aelion's arm, hesitant but firm. "I swore to protect you. Not just as my prince, but as the man I—" He cut himself short, the rest caught in his throat.
Aelion's heart thundered. The unspoken words hung between them, louder than any oath.
Before he could reply, a sharp knock rattled the door.
Both froze.
Kealen's hand moved instinctively to the hilt of his blade, his posture shifting into one of defense. Aelion steadied his breath, masking the panic rising in his chest.
"My prince," a voice called from outside. It was Chancellor Serath, cold and precise, the kind of man who never arrived without reason. "There is an urgent matter requiring your attention."
Kealen's eyes flicked to Aelion, a silent question. Should I open it?
Aelion nodded, though unease pooled in his stomach.
The door creaked open to reveal Serath, tall and draped in velvet robes that seemed to swallow the light. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on Kealen for just a fraction too long before settling on Aelion.
"My prince," Serath said with a thin smile, "an envoy from the northern provinces has arrived unexpectedly. They claim urgent news. Your council awaits you in the war chamber."
"Now?" Aelion asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Yes. Time is… delicate."
Something in his tone twisted like a knife. Aelion felt Kealen shift subtly closer, protective instinct burning through him.
"Very well," Aelion said. "Lead the way."
As Serath turned, Kealen leaned toward Aelion and whispered, "This feels wrong."
"I know," Aelion murmured back. "Stay close."
---
The war chamber was dim, lit by torches that flickered against maps and scrolls pinned to the long table. Figures of the council sat in stiff silence, their expressions unreadable. At the far end stood a cloaked envoy, face obscured, posture rigid.
Serath gestured. "The envoy brings troubling tidings. Speak."
The figure lowered their hood, revealing a young man with pale hair and haunted eyes. "The northern provinces… they burn. Raiders stormed the villages. They carried banners not of any kingdom we know but of… shadows." His voice shook. "They slaughtered without mercy."
Gasps rippled through the council. Aelion's chest tightened. Shadows?
"What do you mean?" Aelion asked, stepping forward.
The envoy's gaze darted to him, then to the council. "They weren't men. Not fully. They moved like smoke, weapons of black steel. Their leader wore a mask carved with teeth."
The chamber erupted in murmurs. Some scoffed, others whispered in fear.
Serath raised a hand, silencing them. His eyes gleamed, sharp and calculating. "These are strange times, my prince. Perhaps too strange for one of your age to navigate alone."
Aelion bristled at the subtle insult. "I will not abandon my people to fear. If shadows rise against us, then I will face them."
"Brave words," Serath said smoothly, "but rash. Perhaps it is time the council took greater control, for the stability of the crown."
Kealen tensed at Aelion's side, recognizing the trap woven in Serath's words.
"They want to weaken you," Kealen whispered under his breath.
Aelion clenched his fists. He could feel the eyes of every council member on him, weighing him, waiting for him to falter. His heart pounded, but when he looked at Kealen, he found strength.
Straightening, he met Serath's gaze. "The council advises. But the throne rules. And I am the throne."
The chamber went still. Serath's smile faded, replaced by a glint of something darker.
The meeting ended soon after, but the unease lingered like poison in Aelion's veins. As he and Kealen walked back through the halls, Aelion finally spoke.
"They're circling me like vultures."
"Yes," Kealen said grimly. "And one wrong move, they'll tear you apart."
Aelion stopped, grabbing Kealen's wrist. The touch was desperate, grounding. "Then don't let me fall. If I falter, remind me of who I am. Not just as a prince—but as a man who—" His voice caught.
Kealen turned, their eyes locking in the dim light. For a moment, the world shrank until it was only the two of them.
"You'll never fall," Kealen whispered.
And though they didn't kiss, though no words of love escaped, the fire between them burned hotter than ever, silent but undeniable.