Night had swallowed the palace whole, pressing its weight against the tall windows of the royal chambers until the glass reflected only darkness and candlelight.
Lucas did not bother announcing himself.
The guards outside the King's chambers stiffened as he approached, but none dared to bar his path. They had seen the look in his eyes before, a storm barely leashed.
He pushed the doors open without knocking.
Kaelvryn stood near the window, his back turned, a goblet of untouched wine resting on the carved table beside him. Moonlight traced the sharp line of his shoulders, outlining a tension that had not left him since the corridor incident.
"I was wondering how long it would take you," Kael said quietly, though he did not turn.
Lucas shut the doors behind him with deliberate care.
"You flung your own commander across a stone hall," he replied evenly. "Did you expect me to send a thank-you note instead?"
Kael exhaled through his nose, "I already apologized."
"You lost control."
"And you overstepped."
Lucas laughed under his breath, though there was no humor in it. "If protecting someone is overstepping, then I suppose I shall continue to offend you."
At last, Kael turned.
There was something darker in his gaze tonight not merely anger, but something tangled beneath it.
Something dangerously close to jealousy, "You grow bold," the King said.
"I grow tired," Lucas corrected.
The silence stretched thin between them, vibrating with words neither had yet spoken then Kael said it.
"You want him."
Lucas blinked once, caught not by the accusation but by the certainty in Kael's voice.
"…Excuse me?"
"Do not insult my intelligence by pretending otherwise," Kael continued, his tone sharpening. "The way you shielded him, the way you looked at me as though I were the enemy… you want Valen."
Lucas folded his arms slowly, "and if I did?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop, Kael's jaw tightened. "He belongs to me."
"Belongs to you?" His golden eyes hardened. "Valen is not a sword you hang at your hip, nor a territory you claim on a map. He is not an object, Kael."
"You misunderstand."
"No," Lucas said, stepping closer, "you misunderstand what it means to care for someone."
A flicker of power rippled through the air, making the candle flames bow. "You tread dangerous ground," Kael warned.
"And you," Lucas shot back, "are behaving like a jealous fool when an entire council plots your execution."
That landed.
Kael's gaze flashed, "do not presume to lecture me about my enemies."
"Then stop creating new ones!" Lucas snapped. "The festival is days away, assassins circle you like vultures, your curse threatens to expose itself before the entire realm, and yet you choose to pick fights over who stands too close to your commander."
"He is more than a commander."
Lucas tilted his head slightly there it was. "Ah," he murmured. "So we speak truths tonight."
Kael's voice dropped, "you will not touch him."
Lucas' patience snapped, in two long strides, he closed the distance between them. "You do not get to dictate who I touch, who I protect, or who I might come to care for."
The air thickened, "careful," Kael said softly.
"Or what?"
The punch came without warning. Kael's fist collided with Lucas's cheek, snapping his head sideways. Lucas staggered once, tasted blood, then smiled slowly as he straightened.
"Well," he muttered, rolling his jaw, "at least this time you hit the intended target."
He struck back just as fast.
Kael absorbed the blow with a grunt, then drove forward, grabbing Lucas by the collar and shoving him against a column hard enough to rattle the stone.
"You forget yourself."
"And you forget who has dragged you out of death's path more times than you know," Lucas growled.
They broke apart only to collide again, fists, shoulders, raw strength meeting raw strength in a clash that felt less like a fight and more like years of unspoken tension finally tearing free.
A goblet shattered.
Wine bled across the marble like spilled rubies. Kael wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You think I do not see it? The way he trusts you?"
"Trust is earned," Lucas shot back. "Not claimed."
Rage flickered across the King's face, shadows curled at his feet.
Lucas saw it, the curse was stirring.
"Enough," he said sharply.
Kael froze, the word had cut through something deeper than anger. Lucas lowered his fists but did not step back.
"If you unleash that power in here, you prove every councilman right about you."
Kael inhaled slowly, visibly forcing the darkness down. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse.
"…You would choose him over me."
The accusation stunned Lucas into stillness, "is that truly what you believe?"
"You did not deny it."
Lucas dragged a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his posture. "You are impossible."
"But yet you remain the same."
Then Lucas spoke again, calmer now. "You are focusing on the wrong battle, Kael. I am not your rival. The council is preparing to turn the festival into your grave and we both know that."
Kael looked away.
"I cannot cancel it without confirming their suspicions."
"I know," Lucas said.
Silence settled.
Then something shifted in Lucas's expression, a thought taking shape.
Slowly, he began to smile, the kind of smile that usually meant trouble.
"What?" Kael asked warily.
"I just realized something," Lucas said. "We have been approaching this entirely wrong."
"Oh?"
"You do not hide from predators by running," Lucas continued. "You disappear into the herd."
Kael frowned faintly, "speak plainly."
Lucas began pacing, energy returning to him. "Tell me, in all your years as king, has this realm ever held a masquerade?"
"A… masquerade?"
"A grand one," Lucas said, gesturing broadly. "Masks for every noble, every courtier, every servant permitted inside the outer halls. Music, lanterns, excess...the sort of spectacle that would make the council believe you arrogant enough to celebrate despite
the red moon."
"You intend for me to vanish among them."
"Not vanish," Lucas corrected, his grin widening. "Exchange places."
Kael stared, "you refused to shape-shift though, how would this help?"
"I refused to do so plainly," Lucas said. "But behind a mask? Surrounded by a hundred others? No one would dare question it."
Kael considered this, tension easing slightly from his shoulders, "you would risk it."
"I would rather risk myself than attend your execution."
The words hung heavy between them, kael studied him for a long moment.
"Why?"
Lucas snorted softly, "do not force me into sentiment. It does not suit either of us."
"Answer me."
Their gazes locked, at last, Lucas sighed.
"Because you are my king… and crazily my best friend and despite your talent for infuriating me, the realm is better with you breathing."
Kael nodded slowly then faked a barf, "that's weird coming out from your mouth but the council will never see it coming."
"Precisely," Lucas said. "Let them plot against a king they cannot even identify."
A quiet chuckle escaped Kael, "our first masquerade."
"Try not to look so delighted," Lucas muttered. "You are still bland."
"And you," Kael replied, "are still reckless."
Lucas smirked, "admit it Kael, you would be bored without me."
Kael's expression softened, "that is unfortunately true."
The storm between them had passed, leaving only the steady hum of strategy in its wake. After a moment, Kael extended his hand.
Lucas looked at it, then clasped it firmly. "Very well," the King said. "We will hold a masquerade."
Lucas released his grip.
"And Kael?"
"Yes?"
"Next time you assume I am kissing someone in a corridor… try asking first."
A faint, reluctant smile curved the King's mouth. "I shall endeavor to remember that."