Chapter 3) Whispers Beneath Silk
Morning arrived with a golden hush, the kind that blanketed the world in quiet warmth before the noise of life stirred again. Caelum awoke earlier than usual, not because of nerves or excitement, but because his thoughts refused to leave him in peace. The banquet had passed, but the weight of what had happened still lingered like the scent of wine on his collar.
He had spoken with royalty. Danced around their games. Felt their stares as if they were threads wrapping around him — invisible, yet pulling.
And Elira's final words? They hadn't left him all night.
"Admiration is not affection. Attention is not loyalty."
He repeated the phrase under his breath, letting it settle.
The wind outside his small home carried the sounds of early merchants setting up again. Though the festival's peak had passed, nobles still remained in Rivelan. Political meetings, trade discussions, performances—it wasn't over yet.
"Going out again?" Taren asked from the workshop, hammering a sole back onto an old boot.
Caelum buttoned his vest in the mirror. "Just walking."
"Just be careful. You're not invisible anymore, you know."
He smiled faintly. "Was I ever?"
Taren looked at him from under heavy brows. "Yes. You were. And you seemed happier that way."
Caelum said nothing. He stepped out into the street, the air cool against his skin.
---
At first, he simply wandered—past old stone houses, ivy-wrapped gates, and chatter-filled bakeries. But eventually, his feet led him to the Governor's Garden again. It was quiet, and only those with invitation could enter, but the guards recognized him now. Word traveled fast when princesses noticed someone.
"Back again?" the guard asked.
Caelum nodded. "Just walking."
Inside, the garden bloomed with controlled chaos: vines spiraled around marble columns, and wildflowers danced between carefully carved hedges. A small fountain gurgled in the center, birds splashing in its basin.
He wasn't alone.
Maribelle sat on a bench, cradling a stack of pastries on a napkin-covered tray. When she saw him, her eyes lit up like sunrise through glass.
"Oh!" She wiped her fingers quickly. "You're early. Or I'm late. Not sure which."
"I wasn't planning to meet anyone," Caelum said, stepping closer.
"That's the best kind of meeting," she grinned.
Maribelle looked different outside the ballroom. Her layered dress was simpler today—cream and soft yellow—with a braid of caramel-colored hair falling loosely over her shoulder. She had a small smudge of chocolate near her lip.
"You've got…" Caelum gestured.
"Where?"
He pointed. She wiped the wrong cheek.
He stepped forward and wiped the smudge gently with a handkerchief. She froze, her breath catching.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then she coughed, nervously laughing. "Well! That's one way to start the day."
He chuckled softly. "Sorry."
"No, no. Thank you." She looked down at her tray. "Want one?"
He took a pastry and sat beside her. "Why are you out here alone?"
"Too many forks and rules inside. Gardens don't mind crumbs."
They sat in silence for a while, the kind that felt comfortable rather than awkward.
"Did you always want to be a princess?" he asked suddenly.
Maribelle blinked. "That's a funny question."
"Sorry—"
"No, it's good." She leaned back, looking at the sky through the trees. "I think I always wanted to be… safe. Being a princess seemed like safety. Castles. Guards. No hunger. But turns out, you still get hurt. Just differently."
He glanced at her. "You seem… happier than the others."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Because someone has to be."
Before he could reply, a voice called from behind the hedges.
"There you are!"
Rhiannon burst through the garden path, fire in her steps as always. Her red cloak swung behind her like a war banner.
Maribelle groaned. "I told you I was resting."
"You're feeding a boy in a royal garden. That's not resting, that's starting rumors."
Caelum stood, brushing crumbs off his vest. "I should go—"
"No," Rhiannon said. "Stay. I need you."
He blinked. "For what?"
She grinned wickedly. "Archery."
---
Half an hour later, Caelum found himself standing in a small training field just behind the Governor's estate, staring at a line of targets. Rhiannon handed him a bow and smirked.
"Don't tell me you've never shot one of these."
"I've never shot one of these."
She laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Then today's your first battle, pretty boy."
Maribelle sat off to the side, cheering between bites of fruit. Several guards watched from a distance, clearly unsure what to make of the sight.
Rhiannon loosed her arrow first. It struck near the center of the target with a satisfying thunk. She turned to Caelum, handing him another arrow.
"Just pull and breathe. Think about something that pisses you off."
He nocked the arrow, pulled, and—
Thump.
It struck the edge of the target, barely.
Rhiannon whistled. "You've got potential."
Caelum lowered the bow. "That's generous."
"No, really. You didn't hit a tree or a bystander. That's progress."
They spent another hour shooting, laughing, and trying increasingly ridiculous poses. At one point, Maribelle tried to shoot blindfolded and knocked over a water barrel. Even the guards smiled.
It was the first time Caelum forgot where he was.
Forgot the weight of royal gazes.
Forgot Elira's cold words or Selene's shadowed glances.
For a while, he just… existed.
---
But peace never lasted.
Later that day, as the sun began to sink, Caelum returned to the edge of town, only to find a letter waiting for him on the doorstep.
Black wax. No crest.
He opened it with cautious fingers.
> "You don't belong where you're walking.
You will be reminded of that soon."
No name. No signature.
Just silence.
---
That evening, Caelum sat alone in his room, the candlelight flickering across the paper as he read the message again and again. He had expected whispers. Maybe jealousy. But a direct threat?
He turned the page over. Blank.
No clue who had sent it.
And no idea what "soon" meant.
He didn't sleep that night. Not truly. His thoughts spun too fast. Between princesses who watched him like a puzzle, and shadows who warned him like prey, Caelum began to wonder—
What game had he been dragged into?
And why did it feel like the whole world was watching?