The palace glittered with lanterns as night settled, but for Aelion, the glow only deepened the shadows that coiled in the corners of his mind. Ever since the attack on the palace gates, whispers had grown louder. Treachery was no longer a possibility—it was a certainty. Someone within their walls had betrayed them.
Kealen had been by his side constantly, his presence both a shield and an anchor. Yet, even Kealen's sharp eyes and steady hand couldn't quiet the storm brewing around them.
That evening, in the prince's private study, Aelion paced while Kealen leaned against the carved doorframe, arms crossed, gaze fixed on him.
"You're wearing a hole in the floor," Kealen murmured, voice steady.
"I don't care about the floor," Aelion snapped before catching himself. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I care about the people I'm supposed to protect. How am I meant to lead when I can't even trust my own court?"
Kealen pushed off the door, closing the distance between them. "You don't need to trust everyone. You just need to know who will stand and fight when it matters." His eyes softened. "And you already know one."
Their gazes locked. For a moment, the world shrank to nothing but the flickering candlelight and the unspoken words between them.
But before Aelion could reply, the door burst open. Nimrel—the prince's cousin—stumbled inside, clutching a scroll. His face was pale, his hands shaking.
"They know," he whispered, thrusting the parchment forward. "The Council has discovered your relationship."
Silence fell like a blade. Aelion's chest tightened, his fingers curling into fists. He hadn't even confessed to the Council that he had chosen Kealen—not just as a guard, but as his heart. And now, that secret was in the wrong hands.
Kealen's jaw clenched, but his voice remained calm. "How much do they know?"
"Enough to destroy you both," Nimrel said. "They will use this against you, Aelion. They'll say you're unfit to rule. They'll strip you of the throne."
Aelion's breath came shallow. He looked at Kealen—his strength, his shadow, the one he had come to love—and realized the depth of the danger. This wasn't only about the throne anymore. It was about survival.
Kealen stepped closer, gripping Aelion's shoulder with quiet conviction. "Then we fight. Whatever storm comes, I'll be at your side. Even if the whole kingdom turns against you."
Aelion's throat tightened. He wanted to believe that love was strong enough to withstand betrayal, lies, and crowns—but as the candle flickered low, he could only whisper the question that haunted him:
"Will love be enough to save us?"