The rain fell hard that night, drumming against the palace windows like a warning from the heavens. Aelion stood in his chambers, his hands gripping the windowsill as he watched the storm rage. His reflection in the glass was pale, weary, yet sharpened with a resolve that had not been there before.
Behind him, Kealen stood silently, his presence as steady as the sword at his side. The prince had noticed—ever since their first kiss, Kealen's watchfulness had changed. It wasn't just duty anymore. His eyes followed Aelion with something more dangerous: devotion.
"Do you trust them?" Aelion asked suddenly, turning away from the storm.
Kealen didn't have to ask who he meant. The council, the nobles, the very blood that claimed to protect the throne—all were suspect. His jaw tightened. "No. They are waiting for the right moment to strike. You've seen it too."
Aelion nodded, stepping closer until only a breath separated them. "Then who do I trust, Kealen? Who stands with me when the walls begin to fall?"
The bodyguard's hand lifted, hesitated, then cupped Aelion's cheek with a tenderness he usually kept hidden behind steel and armor. "Me. Always me."
For a heartbeat, the storm outside faded into silence. Aelion's pulse raced, not from fear, but from the dangerous comfort he felt in those words. He wanted to believe them, to lean into them. But before he could answer, the doors to his chamber slammed open.
Both men turned instantly—Aelion startled, Kealen already reaching for his sword. A drenched messenger stumbled in, bowing hastily. "Your Highness—! Forgive me for the intrusion, but the council has gathered without you. There are whispers… they speak of declaring you unfit to rule."
Aelion's face hardened. The betrayal he had sensed was no longer shadow—it was real, breathing down his neck.
Kealen stepped in front of him instinctively, shielding him as though the messenger's words were arrows. "They move too soon," he muttered. "But this means they fear you, Aelion. That is your strength."
The prince exhaled, his eyes locking on Kealen's. "Then we move before they can. If they want war in the shadows, I will meet them in the light."
Kealen gave a fierce, rare smile. "That's the prince I swore my life to."
But beneath the storm and the plotting, a new current pulsed between them—unspoken but undeniable. In this palace of lies, perhaps the only truth left was what they had found in each other.
And neither betrayal nor crown could steal that away.