The scent of rain-soaked earth and pine clung to Kaelen as he strode through the covered walkway connecting his private residence to the main palace. His face was a carefully constructed mask of regal indifference, a shield he was well-versed in employing. Inside, his mind churned with a mixture of guilt and fierce protectiveness. The image of Elara, pale and trembling, haunted him still.
He had managed to put her to sleep less than an hour ago, promising her safety, whispering reassurances that felt thin even to his own ears. Every stolen moment with her was a gamble, a dangerous dance on the precipice of ruin. But the thought of relinquishing her, of leaving her to the tender mercies of Damon, was unbearable.
Reaching the main palace, he was immediately engulfed in the orchestrated cha
