The great hall was alive with chatter, nobles dressed in shimmering silks and heavy jewels filling the space like restless peacocks. Aelion sat at the long table beside his father, the King, his posture straight but his mind elsewhere. His heart still carried the echo of Kealen's touch, the warmth of that first kiss they had shared in secrecy, hidden beneath the lantern-lit garden.
Now, surrounded by watchful eyes, he felt the heavy weight of expectation pressing on his shoulders. His father's voice rang with authority as he addressed the gathered lords, but Aelion barely heard the words. His gaze kept drifting toward the tall figure standing at the edge of the hall, vigilant as always.
Kealen.
The bodyguard's expression was unreadable, but his stance was alert, every movement precise. To the court, he was merely a protector, but to Aelion he was something more—something he dared not name in public.
The crown prince clenched his fist under the table. How long can we keep this hidden?
The King's words broke into his thoughts.
"The prince's future must be secured. Talks of an alliance with the eastern kingdom will resume. Their princess is of fine breeding—her hand in marriage would strengthen us all."
Aelion's chest tightened. The murmurs in the hall grew louder, approving, expectant. His eyes darted toward Kealen instinctively, but the bodyguard's face remained carved from stone.
Later, as the nobles feasted and music swirled through the air, Aelion slipped away, his steps hurried down the quiet corridor that led to the gardens. He needed space, air—anything to escape the suffocating weight of duty.
But Kealen was already there, as though he had sensed Aelion's turmoil.
"My prince," Kealen murmured, bowing slightly, though his eyes betrayed the storm within.
"Don't call me that," Aelion whispered sharply, glancing around to ensure they were alone. "Not when it's just us."
Kealen hesitated, then nodded. "Aelion."
The name rolled off his tongue like a forbidden prayer.
Aelion's chest ached. "They would have me marry her—a woman I do not know, cannot love. How can they decide my life as though I am a pawn on a board?"
Kealen's jaw tightened. He wanted to comfort him, to take Aelion into his arms, but he forced himself to remain still. "Because that is the way of kings and princes. Your duty comes before your heart."
"My heart belongs to you," Aelion confessed, voice breaking as he took a step closer.
Kealen's breath caught. For a moment, the walls he had built threatened to crumble. "You shouldn't say such things."
"But I already have," Aelion insisted, reaching out to grip his arm. "And I won't take them back."
Their eyes locked, tension hanging between them like a drawn bowstring. Kealen's hand lifted almost unconsciously, brushing along Aelion's cheek. "Do you have any idea what danger you place us in? If they discover—"
"I don't care," Aelion interrupted, leaning into the touch. "Let them watch. Let them whisper. I cannot—will not—pretend anymore."
Before Kealen could stop himself, he pulled Aelion close, their foreheads pressing together, breaths mingling. It wasn't a kiss, not yet, but the promise of one burned between them.
And then—
A shadow flickered at the edge of the garden. A spy? A courtier? Someone was watching.
Kealen stiffened instantly, his hand flying to the hilt of his blade as he turned, eyes scanning the darkness. Whoever it was vanished into the night, leaving only the echo of footsteps.
The fragile moment between them shattered.
"We've been seen," Kealen muttered, his voice low and urgent. "This changes everything."
Aelion's blood ran cold. "Then it begins," he whispered.
The prince and the bodyguard stood in silence, aware that their secret was no longer theirs alone—and the war between love and duty had just begun.
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