The banquet hall had emptied hours ago, yet Aelion remained restless. The laughter and music still echoed in his head, along with the sting of every false smile from the nobles who had pretended to support him. He stood alone at the balcony, overlooking the quiet gardens bathed in moonlight.
The air was cool, carrying the fragrance of roses. But Aelion's chest felt heavy, tight with the weight of expectation. He was no longer just the sheltered prince—he was heir to a throne balanced on fragile trust.
"Your Highness."
The familiar voice was low, steady. Aelion turned, his heart already knowing who it was.
Kealen.
The bodyguard stepped onto the balcony, silent as always, but tonight his presence was different—more human, less soldier. The moonlight traced the sharp lines of his face, softening the usual steel in his eyes.
"You should be resting," Kealen said, though his voice carried concern rather than command.
"I couldn't," Aelion admitted. His hands tightened against the cold marble railing. "Everywhere I look, I see eyes waiting for me to fail. Even the stars feel like judges."
Kealen moved closer, just enough for Aelion to feel his warmth. "Then don't look at them. Look at me."
The words struck deeper than Aelion expected. He turned slowly, meeting Kealen's gaze. There was no judgment there—only quiet devotion, steady as the earth.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The world around them seemed to hush, the night holding its breath.
"Kealen," Aelion whispered, the name trembling on his lips. "Do you ever… wish you weren't bound by duty? That you could simply be… you?"
Kealen's jaw tightened. His silence spoke of battles he had fought within himself for years. Finally, he said softly, "Every time I'm near you, I wish that."
The confession shattered something inside Aelion. His chest ached with both relief and longing.
"I don't want you to be just my shield," Aelion murmured, stepping closer. His hand lifted before he could stop it, brushing against Kealen's arm, lingering on the rough fabric of his uniform. "I want… you."
Kealen's breath hitched, his composure faltering. He reached up, hesitating, then cupped Aelion's face with a tenderness that contradicted his strength.
"Are you certain?" His voice was husky, almost pleading. "Because once I cross this line, I can't go back."
Aelion leaned into the touch, eyes glistening beneath the starlight. "Then don't go back."
Their lips met, hesitant at first, like testing forbidden waters. But the moment stretched, deepened—turning into something fierce, hungry, and desperate. Aelion clung to Kealen's tunic, pulling him closer, while Kealen's hand pressed against the small of his back, grounding him as their kiss grew more passionate.
It was not just desire—it was years of suppressed longing, of words unsaid, of gazes stolen in shadows. Their world might crumble tomorrow, but tonight, beneath the stars, they belonged only to each other.
When they finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, Aelion was breathless, his voice breaking.
"Promise me… no matter what comes, you'll stay."
Kealen's hand trembled slightly against his cheek, but his voice was unwavering.
"Until my last breath, I am yours."
And for the first time, Aelion felt that maybe—just maybe—he was not facing the throne alone.