The academy loved its heroes loudly.
Banners were raised at dawn, white and gold catching the morning sun as students gathered in the courtyard. Excitement buzzed through the air, sharp and electric. Elara stood among them, feeling strangely hollow, as though she were watching a celebration meant for someone else.
"This," the headmaster announced, voice echoing, "is the future of our kingdom."
Lucien Vale stepped forward.
He looked exactly like a hero was supposed to—tall, radiant, confident. Light clung to him as though it answered only to his call. When he smiled, the crowd smiled back. When he bowed, applause erupted.
Elara clapped too, a second too late.
Lucien's eyes found her.
His smile shifted—softened—intentional.
Chosen.
After the ceremony, he approached her easily, like someone used to admiration.
"You're Elara," he said warmly. "I've heard about you."
She inclined her head. "Only good things, I hope."
"Only impressive ones." He offered his hand. "I'd like to train together. Heroes should support each other."
Heroes.
The word lodged in her chest like a thorn.
She hesitated, then accepted his hand. His grip was firm, reassuring. Safe.
Across the courtyard, shadows shifted.
Elara felt it before she saw him.
Kael stood beneath the archway, half swallowed by darkness, watching them. His expression was unreadable, but his stillness was not. When Lucien's hand closed around hers, Kael turned away.
Something inside Elara sank.
Training that day paired her with Lucien.
He praised her form openly, corrected her with patience, made sure others noticed when she succeeded. When she stumbled, he steadied her—careful, visible, perfect.
"You belong here," he told her softly.
Belonging should have felt like relief.
Instead, it felt like betrayal.
During a break, Elara searched the grounds for Kael. She found him near the edge of the wards, arms crossed, gaze fixed on nothing. She approached, heart pounding.
"You didn't look at me once today," she said quietly.
"I did," Kael replied without turning. "I just didn't let you see it."
She swallowed. "They want me with him."
"I know."
"You're not going to stop it?"
"No."
The word hurt more than she expected.
"Why?" she asked.
Kael finally faced her. His eyes were dark, controlled, and aching beneath the restraint. "Because this is how you survive."
"I don't want to survive like that," Elara said.
"You think I did?" he asked softly.
Her breath caught.
"Lucien gives you protection," Kael continued. "Approval. A future without fear."
"And you?" she whispered.
Kael stepped back.
"I give you whispers," he said. "Suspicion. A blade at your back."
"You don't get to decide that alone."
"Yes," he said firmly. "I do."
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Lucien.
"There you are," he said pleasantly, light spilling into the space between them. "I was looking for you, Elara."
Kael retreated instinctively, shadows drawing closer to his feet.
Lucien glanced at him with polite disinterest. "You should be careful," he added mildly. "People misunderstand things when you're seen near… him."
Elara looked between them.
Kael said nothing.
He never did.
That night, rumors spread like poison.
"The hero and the gifted girl."
"She's finally made the right choice."
"Good thing she stayed away from that one."
Elara lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, heart aching with a truth she couldn't escape.
Kael had stepped aside.
Not because he didn't want her—
—but because he loved her enough to let the world take her instead.
And that was the most painful kind of love she had ever known.