The council chamber smelled of ink, parchment, and restrained hostility.
The knight stood at his usual position behind the prince's chair, armor muted for court, blade peace-bound. From here, he could see everything: the way nobles leaned forward when they wanted favor, the way they avoided the queen's eyes when succession was mentioned, the way Captain Rhael stood too straight at the far end of the table, refusing to soften himself for anyone.
The prince spoke, voice measured. Too measured.
"We will reinforce the eastern garrisons," he said. "Quietly. I will not have rumors of weakness spreading."
A murmur of assent followed.
Rhael stepped forward. "With respect, Your Majesty, quiet reinforcement will not be enough. The border clans test silence. They respond to strength."
The prince's fingers tightened on the armrest. "I did not ask for a lecture."
"I offered strategy," Rhael replied evenly. "One that saves lives."
The knight felt it then—the shift. The sharp spike of alpha dominance, sudden and uncontrolled. The prince did not like being challenged. He liked it even less when the challenge came from someone who did not look away.
"You speak freely for a man who owes his position to my favor," the prince said.
Rhael met his gaze without flinching. "I owe it to results."
Silence slammed down on the chamber.
The knight kept his eyes forward. He had learned long ago that watching too closely could be mistaken for choosing sides.
The prince exhaled through his nose. "Leave us."
The council hesitated.
"Everyone," the prince added.
Chairs scraped. Robes whispered. One by one, they filed out until only four remained: the prince, the queen, Captain Rhael—and the knight.
The queen's hands were folded tightly in her lap. She had not spoken once.
"Captain," the prince said, "you overstep."
Rhael inclined his head. "If that is the charge, I accept it."
The prince's gaze slid—inevitably—to the knight.
"And you," he said. "You stand very still."
The knight answered calmly. "I stand where I am placed."
"That has always been your answer," the prince said. His tone was almost amused. Almost.
The queen rose abruptly. "I will return to my chambers."
The prince did not stop her.
When the door closed, the air changed.
Rhael glanced once at the knight, then back to the prince. "You summoned me here to discuss borders. Not—this."
"Everything in this kingdom is this," the prince snapped. He stood, pacing. "You hover. You whisper. You look at what is not yours."
Rhael's jaw tightened. "He is not a possession."
The words hit like a blade.
The knight felt the prince's attention slam into him, hot and furious.
"Leave," the prince ordered Rhael.
Rhael did not move immediately. "If you break him," he said quietly, "you will not like what's left."
The prince smiled without warmth. "That will be my concern."
Rhael left.
The door shut.
The lock turned.
The knight became very aware of the space between them. Too small. Too enclosed.
"You've grown bold," the prince said.
"I have spoken no differently than before."
The prince stopped pacing. "You allow him closeness."
"He is my commander."
"And I am your king."
"Yes."
"And yet," the prince said softly, "you smell like restraint. Like refusal."
The knight's control tightened. "I am disciplined."
The prince stepped closer. "You were trained to endure."
"Yes."
"To obey."
"Yes."
The prince's voice dropped. "To belong."
Silence stretched. The knight could feel his own pulse, traitorous and fast.
"If you have an order," the knight said carefully, "give it."
The prince's breath stuttered. Just once.
"Dismissed," he said sharply.
The knight bowed and turned to leave.
"Stop."
He stopped.
The prince stood very still, hands clenched. "You would leave that easily."
"I was dismissed."
The prince laughed under his breath. "Always so precise."
He crossed the distance in three strides. Stood close enough that the knight could feel the heat of him, the raw alpha presence straining against control.
"You don't look at me anymore," the prince said.
The knight kept his gaze forward. "You are not addressing me."
Silence cracked.
The prince reached out—then stopped himself, hand hovering in the air between them.
"Go," he said hoarsely.
The knight left.
That night, the knight found Captain Rhael waiting outside the barracks.
"You shouldn't be here," the knight said.
Rhael studied his face. "You shouldn't be where you are."
A pause.
"Come with me," Rhael said. "Just tonight. Away from stone and eyes."
"I cannot."
"Because of duty," Rhael said. Not a question.
"Yes."
Rhael exhaled sharply. "One day, that word will be used to kill you."
The knight did not respond.
As Rhael turned away, the knight felt it—the prince's gaze from a high window, unseen but unmistakable.
Watching.
Weighing.
And something inside the palace finally began to crack.