Chapter 181: The Weight of Return
The Hollow was alive with the hum of industry when Kael, Fenrik, and Rogan rode through its gates. Sunlight spilled over the timber walls and stone watchtowers, gilding the town in a golden glow. Farmers were returning from the fields, miners trailed dust-covered from their shifts, and merchants shouted from their stalls in the market square.
But for Kael, none of it reached him. The weeks away had been heavy, full of shadows and choices that would linger in his memory far longer than he wished. He shifted on Umbra's back, feeling the direwolf's steady gait beneath him as he rode toward the heart of the Hollow.
She was waiting there.
Lyria broke from the crowd before anyone else could reach him, her dark hair catching the sun, her steps quick and urgent. The moment Kael dismounted, she was on him, her arms wrapping tight around his chest.
"You're late," she said, but her voice was thick with relief.
Kael let out a low chuckle, though the sound was worn. He held her close, burying his face in her hair. "I had to make sure the king didn't lose his head before I could come back."
She leaned back, eyes narrowing, studying him as though searching for cracks beneath the armor, the skin, the mask of command. Her thumb brushed against his jaw. "And you didn't lose yours?"
"Not this time."
The words were simple, but the weight in his voice made her exhale slowly, her forehead pressing against his. The noise of the Hollow faded around them, the moment stretched thin and fragile.
"You don't always have to come back in pieces for me to put together," she murmured.
"I'm trying," Kael admitted. His hand settled against her waist, grounding himself in her presence. "But sometimes… the choices don't leave room for clean hands."
Her lips curved into the faintest smile, though her eyes still glistened. "Then let me be the one to remind you you're more than your choices."
For a long moment, they simply stood there, clinging to one another, Kael drawing strength from the warmth of her embrace. Rogan and Fenrik, respectful of the moment, busied themselves with tending the wolves, though Rogan gave a dry smirk that Kael caught out of the corner of his eye.
But peace never lingered long.
"Kael." A voice broke the moment, clipped and formal. One of the younger council aides stood at the edge of the square, bowing stiffly. "The council requests your presence immediately. They… wish to hear of what transpired in the Ocean Kingdom."
Kael sighed, pressing one last kiss to Lyria's temple. "Of course they do."
She caught his hand as he pulled away, squeezing it tight. "Don't let them strip this moment from you. You came back. That matters more than anything."
He nodded, then forced himself toward the council chamber, the shadows of Varenth's beheading still clinging to his thoughts.
The chamber was already filled when Kael entered. Lyria had slipped in behind him, choosing to stand rather than sit, her eyes sharp and watchful. The rest of the council — Thalos, Fenrik, Saekaros, Rogan, Varik, and the others — all turned their attention to him.
"You've returned," Saekaros said, voice smooth, though his expression was lined with caution. "And with news, I suspect."
Kael took his seat, resting his gauntlets on the table. "The traitor has been dealt with."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
"Dealt with how?" Thalos pressed, his brows furrowed.
Kael's jaw tightened. "King Thalren carried out the execution himself. Varenth is dead. His loyalists were rooted out, and the threat to the king's life has been removed — for now."
"Execution…" Saekaros leaned back, his tone unreadable. "Swift. Brutal. Perhaps necessary."
Fenrik broke in, blunt as ever. "Necessary, aye. The man nearly had his king killed. Better to see it done and finished than let the rot fester."
"But such blood only deepens shadows," Saekaros countered.
The arguments began to spark, but Kael raised a hand, silencing them. His gaze was steady, cold, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it.
"The Ocean Kingdom is still our ally. Thalren made his choice as a king should — without hesitation, without weakness. That's what matters. The alliance is intact. Trade continues. The Hollow is secure."
Silence followed. They all knew his words were true, but unease lingered. The reality of kings, traitors, and execution sat heavily on those unaccustomed to such politics.
Kael leaned forward, his voice dropping lower, meant for them alone. "I won't lie. What I saw there was ugly. But it was also honest. Thalren proved himself. Now it's on us to prove we can stand beside him without faltering."
Lyria watched him closely, pride flickering in her gaze at the certainty in his tone. She could see the cracks still beneath his armor, the weariness in his shoulders, but here in the chamber he was their leader — steady, resolute, unshakable.
The council shifted, some nodding, some still doubtful, but no one spoke against him.
Kael had made his report. Now the weight of it belonged to them all.