Chapter 2: Shadows of Truth
869 Words
The moon hung low over Eldenfall, casting pale silver light through the mist clinging to its alleys. Kael stood beneath the crumbling archway of the old library ruins, his cloak damp with night dew. He had arrived early, as always, heart racing in quiet anticipation.
Lira was late.
She was never late.
It had been thirty-three nights since he’d first seen her dance. Thirty-three secret meetings, whispers shared over flickering lamplight, and soft laughter that stayed in his ears long after he returned to the palace. And now, for the first time, she was not there.
Kael leaned back against the mossy stone, watching shadows stretch with the movement of clouds overhead. Something gnawed at his chest. Not fear—not quite. Unease. That instinct that had kept him alive on diplomatic rides through dangerous borderlands, through thick forests and city gutters.
He pressed his palm against the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his cloak. Then, he started walking.
He checked the fountain plaza first—where they’d first talked—and then the narrow corridor behind the weaver’s hall. Nothing. The city felt quieter than usual, like it was holding its breath.
He turned down a lesser-known alley toward the ruins of the aqueduct, a place Lira had mentioned in passing once, as a spot where secrets changed hands. He had almost reached the corner when he saw them.
Two figures stood beneath a half-collapsed arch, speaking in hushed voices.
One of them was Lira.
Kael ducked behind a row of stacked crates and strained to listen.
“…he trusts me,” Lira was saying.
“And what of the prince?” the other asked. A man’s voice. Older, gravel-edged.
“He doesn’t know who I am,” she said. “He thinks I’m just a street girl.”
Kael’s heart dropped into his stomach.
“Good,” said the man. “Keep it that way. We need more time. The Seravellian court is watching. Your brother cannot act until your return is secure.”
“I’m not ready,” Lira said sharply. “Not yet. There’s more to learn.”
“More to feel, you mean?”
A long silence. Then, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll do what’s required. For Seravelle.”
Kael staggered backward, breath caught like a stone in his throat.
Seravelle.
The name was a curse in Eldoria. A memory of blood-soaked battlefields and razed border towns. His father’s kingdom had nearly crumbled during the last war. And Lira—
No. Eliranya.
The name surfaced like a half-remembered dream. Princess Eliranya of Seravelle. The lost daughter of King Vanyel. Presumed dead after the palace coup that had plunged their kingdom into turmoil a decade ago.
And she was here, alive. In Eldoria. With him.
Kael felt as if the world had tilted.
He stayed in the shadows until the cloaked man left, vanishing into the dark like a ghost. Only then did he step forward.
“Lira.”
She whirled, startled. “Kael!”
“You lied to me.”
Her mouth opened, closed, then set into a line. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you everything.”
“You’re the Princess of Seravelle.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
His breath came sharp. “And what was this? All of this? A game? An act?”
“No.” Her voice cracked. “I never meant for you to find out like this. I never meant for any of it to happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean… I didn’t plan to fall in love with you.”
The words struck him harder than any blow.
She stepped closer. “I ran from Seravelle after the coup. I was twelve. I lived on the run, in silence, hidden under stolen names. I didn’t even remember what safety felt like until I met you.”
Kael didn’t speak. He was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.
“My brother—Rhaedon—wants peace. But some in the court want war. If I return, I could stop it. Maybe. But I needed to know if peace was even possible. So I came here. And I met you.”
“You used me,” he said, but the words didn’t hold fire.
“I tried not to.”
They stood in silence, broken only by the quiet drip of water from the aqueduct.
“I should report you,” Kael said finally. “Have you arrested.”
“You should,” she whispered.
“But I won’t.”
“Why?”
Kael looked at her for a long time.
“Because I love you too.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks. He stepped forward and wiped them away with shaking fingers.
“I don’t know what this means now,” he said. “I don’t know what happens next. But I’m not letting go of you.”
“I don’t want to be your enemy.”
“Then don’t be.”
They kissed under the ruins, the shadows bearing witness. Not as prince and princess. Not as enemy and spy.
As Kael and Lira.
And somewhere in the distance, the winds of war shifted course.
- Writer
