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Elara takes in her words. Both of them possess a different perspective of Cael. He says little regarding himself, his private writing, or the secrets he keeps within that closed study. Still, he offered revelations she did not expect. She has witnessed his nature herself, through moments intentional and unintentional.

She turns her head away, forcing her mind to dismiss the memory of the scars across his back, his verses, and the deep insecurity she held back without acknowledgment. Her hair slides forward, covering her features and shielding her from the light.

Kaera stands, the wood beneath her creaking under her weight. “I must return to my quarters and prevent Cael from fighting against mother and the outer lords alone.”

“I will not have you arrange this on your own. Neither will I let you continue feeling abandoned,” she murmurs. She looks up to meet Kaera’s wide eyes, rising from her seat to pull her into an embrace. “Never alone.”

Kaera freezes before she melts. She returns the hold, weeping against Elara’s shoulder. “We must do something,” she pleads, her frame shaking.

Elara swallows, her blurred, tear-filled eyes looking ahead.

“We will.”

XXXV

RIVERATH’S FUTURE KING

C

Cael tries to match his stride with Maereth’s,

his lungs burning. He continues rushing toward the retreating lords, opening his mouth to let out a desperate plea for them to stop. Only a trembling breath escapes his throat, and his steps falter as the weight of his terror locks his limbs. He never trained for a betrayal of this magnitude, and he never expected the person he fears to push the kingdom over the brink of ruin.

Queen Maereth stops, turning her head to cast a cold look of disdain at him. She offers a mocking smile to the lords beside her, cementing his public humiliation before continuing her march. The nobles ignore his breathless plea, their loud discussions regarding the vanguard drowning out his presence. They stream past the double doors of the corridor, and a guard loyal to Maereth closes the oak panels directly in his face, locking him out.

He presses his forehead against the cold surface, his chest heaving while his hands slide down the carved wood. A suffocating helplessness locks his throat, reminding him of his weakness before the queen. He is a crown prince who cannot command his own gates, a coward who can only tremble in the corridor while his kingdom marches toward destruction.

Footsteps echo behind him. Cael turns to find Kaera watching him near the stairs. Her earlier anger is gone, replaced with a soft look of worry. Unable to face her pity, he jerks his gaze down to his trembling hands, hiding the frantic sign language half-formed on his fingers. He ducks his chin and steps past her, fleeing toward the sanctuary of the royal wing.

He needs to see his father, to grasp a single moment with him.

Kaera hurries by his side, her hands lifting her long skirt by the stairs. “Cael, where did mother go? Where are the lords? Did they all leave?” Her breathing quickens as her steps echo on the stone. “Tell me. I will follow them. I will demand answers from the vanguard commanders myself if the lords refuse to listen. Mother cannot simply dismiss the entire garrison. They are going to start a war, Cael, and no one is stopping her.”

Cael does not halt his pace, keeping his hands pinned to his sides while dragging his feet forward toward his father’s bedchamber.

Kaera’s step falters for a moment before she sprints ahead to stand directly in front of King Raelith’s door, blocking his path. “We cannot let father know. Cael, please,” her voice trembles as her hands reach for his long sleeves, tugging them with all the might she holds. “He is weak enough. Knowing the wife he adores is making such a chaotic decision will kill him. You know it will. We must handle this ourselves. If she finds out we ran to him like frightened children, she will strip the knights of their titles before the sun sets.”

Cael’s eyes bore into Kaera’s, noting the tears threatening to fall. The sight triggers a memory of her crying to him when she was younger. She was seven, while he was twelve with new, bleeding slashes on his back he tried to hide under his coat.

“I heard Mama yelling,” Kaera admits, her hand wiping the tears flowing down her cheek, her small frame trembling with fear. “Did she punish you?”

Cael’s hands wrap the coat around him tighter. The minor movement causes the burning sensation from the fresh slashes of Maereth’s leather strap to worsen. He forces his legs to hold his weight, struggling to remain upright. His stepmother’s mocking words echo within his mind. She had berated him for praising Kaera’s skills, for giving the girl hope that she might improve as a princess, and for wishing to share that same hope with their citizens. Knowing Kaera heard the entire exchange while standing outside his threshold leaves him with no lies to form. His gaze flickers up the hallway, hoping no one watches.

He lifts his trembling hands. She yelled, but do not worry. She simply fails to see the potential you hold, Kaera.

Kaera shakes her head, burying her face into her palms as her cries grow louder. “No. She hurt you, Cael. Where did she hurt you?” She drops her hands and grasps his sleeve, tugging the material. “Please, tell me. I will let Father know, and he will stop her.”

Cael rests his palm on top of her head, smoothing her hair. Kaera lifts her head, her eyes wide and spilling tears. In moments when she grows certain of Maereth’s cruelty, he has no choice but to construct a shield of deception. He refuses to let King Raelith discover that the woman he adores is a monster. For Kaera, Maereth is her biological mother. He cannot plant a single seed of negativity in the girl's mind toward the woman who birthed her. Wrapping his arms around his sister, he pulls her into a tight embrace. Kaera’s cries deepen while his hand comforts her, feeling her body trembling against his.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Cael feels a single tear escape.

His eyes meet Kaera’s now, a faint trace of warmth softening his expression. She holds the same courage she possessed when she was younger. Cael brings his hands to the back of her head, offering a few comforting pats. He lowers them only to raise his fingers to sign his promise. I will not tell him anything. Do not cry or worry, I will try my best to handle everything.

“You cannot handle all of this on your own. I will stand in your place. I will take the maps with me and bring our initial plan of peace back into display for the lords and the guards. They will listen.” She nods her head. “I will stop them.”

Cael’s hands lower to his sides. A small smile forms on his lips, and he offers her a nod.

“Make sure Father is alright.” Kaera steps to the side, walking away from the threshold before rushing her way down the stairs.