Chapter 10: The First Argument
1106 Words
Kael did not look at her anymore.
After that night, he acted as if nothing had changed. The training continued. The conversations continued. He was even more patient than before.
But Lirael knew something was different.
The way he looked at her had changed. Not cold—something she could not name. Like he was looking at her, but also at somewhere far away.
She did not ask about the notebook again. But she held that hidden dose of medicine in her palm, and every time Kael brought her new medicine, her fingers would tighten a little.
On the tenth night, she could not hold back.
"Kael."
"Yes."
"The other day, you said Elara was dying."
Kael's hand stopped over the documents. He did not look up, but Lirael saw his fingers tighten.
"What did you hear?" he asked. His voice was calm—too calm.
"You and Elara, speaking in the study. You said, 'her bloodline still needs time.'" Lirael's voice was steady, but her hands trembled. "What are you planning?"
Kael set down the document and looked up.
His gray eyes held no anger, no guilt. Only something Lirael could not name—like struggle, like relief.
"Elara is dying," he said, his voice low. "Only your bloodline can save her."
Lirael's world went silent in that moment.
She heard her own heartbeat. Once. Twice. Three times. Then everything stopped.
"So your kindness…" Her voice shook. "It was all to save her?"
Kael was silent for a long time.
So long that Lirael felt her heart might c***k inside her chest.
"Yes," he said.
One word. Light as a feather falling onto her heart, yet so heavy it stole her breath.
Lirael stood there, staring at his face. She had expected him to deny it, to explain, to sayit is not just that.
But he did not.
He just sat there, his gray eyes holding neither evasion nor apology. Like he was stating a fact.
"When did it start?" Lirael asked. Her voice was so calm it frightened her.
"From the first day."
"The first day? When you put that cloak on me?"
"Yes."
"When you taught me to control my pheromones?"
"Yes."
"When you kissed me?"
Kael did not answer.
Lirael laughed. Not a happy laugh—the kind where tears gathered at the edges of your eyes but you refused to let them fall.
"So all of this." She spread her arms, gesturing at the study, the fire in the hearth, the cloak on her shoulders. "All of it was a lie?"
Kael stood and walked to the window, turning his back to her.
"Elara's illness is severe," he said, his voice low as if speaking to himself. "She will not survive this winter. Only your bloodline can save her."
"So I am medicine." Lirael said it as a statement, not a question.
Kael did not deny it.
Lirael's hands clenched. Her nails dug into her palms. The pain kept her**—awake.
"Did you ever love me?" she asked. "Even for a second?"
Kael turned.
His expression had changed. Not cold. Not hard. Something Lirael had never seen on his face before—
Struggle.
Like something was tearing at his chest, pulling him in two directions.
"It does not matter," he said.
Lirael stared at him. "It matters. It matters to me."
Kael was silent for a long time.
The fire in the hearth flickered, casting shifting shadows across his face.
"You should go," he said.
"Kael."
"Go."
His voice went cold, like a door closing in her face.
Lirael stood there, staring at his back. Moonlight fell across his shoulders, stretching his shadow long across the floor. He stood like a statue—cold, perfect, impenetrable.
She turned and walked toward the door.
Her hand on the handle, she stopped.
"I will not come back," she said.
She did not look back.
The door closed behind her.
The hallway was cold.
Lirael walked quickly back to her room, every step like stepping on blades.
She thought she would cry. But her eyes were dry as a desert, her chest hollow, like something had been carved out of her.
She pushed open the door and collapsed onto the straw pile.
Her hand was still clenched around that dose of medicine.
She held it up to the light. Moonlight filtered through the window, turning it translucent.
This was not a tonic. She did not know what it was. But she knew one thing—she would not take it anymore.
Lirael sat up, wrapped the dose in cloth, and tucked it into the innermost pocket of her clothes.
Tomorrow, she would find a way to send it out of the palace. To the human world. To be tested.
She needed to know what Kael Thorne was hiding from her.
The study.
Kael stood at the window, staring at the place where Lirael had disappeared.
His hand pressed against his chest—there was a strange feeling there. Not pain. Emptiness. Like something should be present, but was not.
He remembered the last look on her face.
She had not cried. Not screamed. Not fallen apart.
She had just stood there, looking at him, and asked, "Did you ever love me?"
Then she had left.
Kael closed his eyes.
He should be relieved. She would not come back. He did not have to pretend anymore. He only had to wait—wait for the right time, take her bloodline, save Elara.
Everything would return to normal.
He leaned against the wall, drew a deep breath.
"I am sorry," he said quietly.
The words were so small that only he could hear them.
But who were they for? Her? Or himself?
He did not know.
He only knew that the moon outside his window was growing fuller.
And the hollow in his chest was growing larger.
At the other end of the hallway, Elara stood at her door.
She had heard everything. Every word.
She leaned against the frame, a cold smile curving her lips.
"She is beginning to suspect," she whispered to the air, to the thing inside her.
The parasite writhed beneath her skin, a low hum of satisfaction rising from its throat.
"It does not matter." Elara smiled, her pale blue eyes gleaming with cruelty. "Let her investigate. Let her hate. When her hatred reaches its peak—her bloodline will be purest."
She turned and walked back into her room. Moonlight fell across her, casting her shadow against the wall.
That shadow twisted. Swelled. In the darkness, it opened a mouth that did not belong to any human.
- Writer
