Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Weight of Intentions
Snow drifted quietly outside the Hollow's walls, flakes spinning like silver dust in the pale light of dawn. Inside Kael's chamber, the fire had burned low, leaving only glowing embers that pulsed softly with warmth. He sat at the table, the carved bracelet laid before him.
Lyria entered without knocking, her hair damp from the snow, bow resting against her shoulder. She closed the door with her hip, her eyes immediately landing on the object that seemed to hold his attention.
Her voice was careful, yet edged. "That's not yours."
Kael looked up slowly, his golden eyes steady. "No. It was left at my door yesterday morning." He tapped the bracelet with a fingertip, the bone cool and smooth beneath his hand. "Druaka made it."
For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Lyria set her bow aside, folding her arms across her chest. Her lips pressed into a thin line, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of something she rarely showed him: jealousy.
"I suppose she didn't make that for just anyone," Lyria said, her tone flat. "An ogre doesn't craft something like this unless she means it."
Kael leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. "I know."
"You sound calm about it."
"And you don't," Kael countered softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
Her frown deepened, though she moved closer, pulling out the chair across from him. When she sat, her leg brushed his beneath the table, almost as though to anchor herself. "I don't like it," she admitted finally. "I know what she's been through. I respect her strength. But if this means what I think it does… she's putting herself between us."
Kael reached across the table, his hand finding hers. "Lyria. You've stood at my side since the beginning. You've bled with me, fought with me, seen the worst of me and stayed. There's no one else who knows me the way you do. Not even Druaka."
Her eyes softened, but the edge of insecurity lingered. "You're the Hollow's leader. You're strong, you're respected, you're—" she hesitated, her cheeks warming faintly, "—not hard to look at. If you think others won't try to win your favor, you're a fool."
Kael chuckled quietly. "So I've been told." His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, steady and grounding. "That's why I need to look at this carefully. If Druaka's intentions are romantic, we'll have to revisit it. I won't deny her honesty, if that's what this is. But if this is about politics, about earning her place through me…" His expression hardened, shadows flickering briefly around his shoulders. "Then that's another conversation entirely."
Lyria exhaled, tension easing from her frame as his words settled between them. She squeezed his hand, her voice quieter now. "I don't want to cage you, Kael. I just don't want to lose what we've found."
"You won't," Kael said firmly. "Not to her. Not to anyone."
The embers in the hearth popped softly, filling the silence that followed. For the first time since she'd entered, Lyria allowed herself a small smile. She reached forward, sliding the bracelet toward him.
"Then wear it," she said. "If nothing else, it reminds you that people are watching. And that I'll be watching too."
Kael slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, its weight familiar now. He stood, leaning over the table to press his forehead to hers.
"Let them watch," he murmured. "I only see you."