The grand corridors of the royal palace echoed with the rhythm of hurried footsteps and muffled whispers. Aelion had not spoken to Kealen in two days, and the silence between them weighed heavier than any blade. It was not anger alone that kept his lips sealed—it was hurt, confusion, and the sting of betrayal.
Kealen, ever dutiful, walked three paces behind him as they moved through the halls, but he could feel the prince's resentment like a cold wind on his skin. His hand hovered near his sword, not from fear of danger, but from the need to cling to something steady while the distance between them grew.
---
The Rift Between Them
"Aelion…" Kealen's voice was quiet, as if testing whether the silence would crack.
The prince stopped in his tracks but did not turn. His golden hair caught the light from the tall windows, glimmering like a halo that seemed untouchable.
"Do not speak unless necessary," Aelion said, his tone colder than the marble beneath their feet.
The words sliced through Kealen, sharper than steel. He had endured wounds, scars, and torture before, but never the wound of being shut out by the one he swore to protect—and the one he had come to love.
Kealen clenched his jaw. "As you command, Your Highness."
The formal address made Aelion's shoulders stiffen, but he kept walking.
---
Whispers in the Court
That evening, the banquet hall overflowed with lords, ladies, and foreign envoys. Aelion sat at the head of the long gilded table, his crown shining under the torchlight, but his smile was only for show. His eyes never once sought Kealen's at the edge of the room.
Lady Mirethe, a court noble, leaned closer to the prince with a honeyed smile. "Your Highness, it must be tiring, keeping such a solemn bodyguard always at your side. Perhaps you might find lighter company tonight?"
Her words were dripping with venom meant for Kealen. The bodyguard heard them clearly but did not flinch.
Aelion's jaw tightened. "Kealen is my protector. His presence is not for your amusement."
Lady Mirethe blinked, then laughed softly to cover her embarrassment, but Kealen's chest burned—not with pride, but with sorrow. Even in defending him, Aelion's voice lacked the warmth it once held.
---
Behind Closed Doors
When the banquet ended, Kealen escorted Aelion back to his chambers. The silence pressed on them again, thicker than ever. Once the heavy doors closed, Kealen spoke.
"Are you going to keep treating me as if I have wronged you beyond forgiveness?" His voice was controlled, but his hands trembled at his sides.
Aelion spun around, his eyes blazing. "You have wronged me. You kept secrets. You chose silence when I needed truth. Do you know what it feels like, Kealen, to be surrounded by liars, and then find even the one I trust most… hiding from me?"
Kealen stepped forward, his heart twisting. "I never lied to you. What I withheld—I withheld to protect you."
Aelion scoffed, his hurt spilling out as anger. "Protection? Or mistrust? Which was it? Am I a child to be shielded, or a prince who deserves honesty?"
The words struck Kealen harder than a sword's blow. "You are more than a prince to me," he confessed hoarsely. "But if I had spoken, the danger would have doubled. Your enemies listen in the shadows, Aelion. My silence was my way of keeping you safe."
Aelion's lips parted, his breath caught, but he turned his face away. "Safety without trust is nothing but a gilded cage."
---
The Breaking Point
The silence stretched long until Aelion's shoulders slumped, his anger giving way to weariness. "Leave me tonight. I need to think."
Kealen's throat constricted. Every instinct screamed at him to stay, to kneel before the prince and beg forgiveness, to explain again and again until he understood. But a bodyguard obeys.
He bowed stiffly. "As you wish, Your Highness."
When Kealen left, the door closing behind him, Aelion pressed a hand to his chest. His heart ached with longing, but pride and pain kept him still.
---
The Choice of Loyalty
Outside in the darkened corridors, Kealen leaned against the cold stone wall, his eyes closing. For the first time, he considered walking away—not from duty, but from the unbearable torment of being both needed and rejected. Yet his oath bound him.
Even if he hates me, I will not abandon him.
The thought steadied him, but the weight of his unspoken love threatened to crush his resolve.
---
The Shadow Moves
Unbeknownst to both prince and bodyguard, their enemies watched closely. In the depths of the palace, a masked figure smirked as a spy whispered of the rift between Aelion and his protector.
"Good," the masked figure murmured. "Divide the heart, and the kingdom will follow."
The stage for betrayal was being set, and the bond between prince and guard would soon be tested beyond silence and pride.