The night sky bled into a thick curtain of silence, stars veiled by restless clouds that seemed to mirror the unrest in the kingdom. Within the marble halls of the royal palace, whispers spread like wildfire—whispers of treachery, of enemies within the very walls sworn to protect the crown.
Kealen moved like a shadow through the corridors, every sense heightened. His hand rested close to the hilt of his blade, but his heart was far heavier than steel. Ever since Aelion's confession, every look between them carried a dangerous weight. Love had bound them, but love had also painted targets on their backs.
Tonight, he could not think of stolen glances or secret kisses. Tonight, he had to protect Aelion from a storm no blade could fully deflect.
"Kealen," Aelion's voice called softly from behind him, breaking through the stillness.
Kealen turned, his chest tightening as he met the prince's gaze. Aelion stood draped in a long cloak of midnight blue, his golden crown absent, making him look less like a ruler and more like the vulnerable boy Kealen had sworn to protect.
"You shouldn't be wandering the halls," Kealen whispered, stepping closer. "Not with the rumors spreading."
"And should I cower in my chambers while my kingdom fractures beneath me?" Aelion's eyes gleamed with defiance, but beneath it lay fear—fear only Kealen could see. "No, Kealen. If there are enemies among us, I will not hide."
Kealen clenched his fists. Protecting Aelion meant shielding him from blades and arrows, but how could he shield him from his own unshakable resolve?
The prince reached for him, fingers brushing against Kealen's arm in the dim glow of torchlight. "Stay by my side. If betrayal comes, I want your strength to be the last thing I see."
Before Kealen could answer, the echo of hurried footsteps broke their fragile moment. A soldier stumbled into view, pale with dread.
"My Prince! Sir Kealen! The council chamber—it's been attacked!"
The words sent ice through Kealen's veins. Without hesitation, he pulled Aelion behind him, his protective instincts igniting like wildfire.
"Stay close," he ordered.
They raced through the labyrinth of corridors until the chamber doors came into view—splintered, blood staining the marble floor beneath them. The air reeked of betrayal. Inside, several councilmen lay wounded, and others whispered frantic prayers.
But at the center of it all stood a figure Kealen knew too well. A trusted knight. A brother-in-arms.
His blade dripped crimson. His eyes flickered with a loyalty not to crown or country, but to something far darker.
"Aelion," Kealen whispered, stepping forward as the truth of betrayal finally revealed itself. "It's someone we trusted."
The prince's voice trembled, not with fear, but with fury. "Then tonight, trust will be broken… and blood will answer for it."