CHAPTER SEVEN: Of confession
1426 Words
Kael’s boots crushed the forest floor, dark foliage trembling beneath each step. He carried Naya like she was both his prize and his promise—safe in his arms, but dangerously close to his heart.
“I’m not going back,” Naya murmured, chest pressed to Kael’s armor.
He didn’t slow. “Yes, you are.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “My home isn’t your tower. My mother will be frantic. I’m not your… possession.”
He halted, spun her around gently so her gaze met his. Moonlight illuminated steel-blue eyes screaming something fierce.
“Do you… do you care about me?” His voice was low, raw, unsure.
Emotion battered her chest. “How could I not care about the man who rescued me in the middle of the night—carrying me like I was more than…?”
“More than a pawn?” He pressed one hand over his heart. “I rescued you because you are more.”
She blinked. Then he did the unthinkable: he stepped closer, close enough she could smell faint pine and something softer—something like home.
He swallowed. “Naya… I think I love you.”
She jerked her head back as if struck. Love. She tasted the word on his lips like poison and perfume.
“Love…” she repeated, voice hollow. “That’s… that’s a dangerous word.”
“Dangerous things are worth fighting for.” He managed a sad half-smile. “I fought for you.”
“I—” she started, then flinched away. “Kael, no.”
His expression flickered: hurt, confusion, hurt again. “Why not?”
Because: I’m a witch. Your kingdom hates witches. You’d lose everything if they discovered me.
Her voice trembled as she said the truth. “I care about you. More than I expected. But you don’t understand. You… you’d lose more than you know.”
He blinked. Then pressed both hands along her arms. “Win lose—this changes nothing.”
She bristled in his hold. “I don’t want to destroy you.”
He let go and stepped back. Pain flashed across his face. “Destroy me? Why would you say—”
“Because being with me will destroy you,” she whispered. “They’ll kill me. You can’t… you can’t stake your entire life on keeping me a secret.”
Kael’s lips thinned. He looked away, posture folding inward. “I did. I would.”
She felt something break inside her. A promise he didn’t fully understand.
“Listen,” she rose on tiptoes, touched his jaw lightly, “I need to go home. My mother—”
His jaw snapped. “You’re not going anywhere.”
His mask fell. She’d seen him angry before, but this was different—fire and smoke, lethal and loud.
“Kael…” she began, but he silenced her.
“In front of heaven and earth, I swear you will never again be out of my sight.”
Thunder rumbled in his tone. He pulled her into a hug fierce enough to bruise bone, protect enough to rip danger apart, desperate enough she felt both cherished and terrified.
Naya stayed still. Heart against his chest. She wanted to let him. She wanted to believe him. But fear, history, rules—bound her gently, but firmly.
With a small nod, she gave him what he needed. “Okay.”
His arms relaxed. He scooped her into his arms (again) and started walking. One arm under her knees, one across her back. She suppressed a flinch; she couldn’t handle pity—but his arms weren’t pity. They were strength.
They reached the palace gates. Torchlight cast shadows across the walls like hunters. Courtiers and guards scattered like startled birds.
Whispers echoed.
“By the gods…”
“Is that—?”
“The Prince… carrying her?”
Kael strode straight forward, ignoring gasps. Naya buried her face in his cloak. She hated the attention. She hated pampering. She hated everything.
They entered the palace. Servants froze in doorways. Maids dropped trays. Noblewomen’s fans fluttered in shock.
Kael set her down gently at a throne-hall side door and went to find Sarika.
“Maid Naya,” she whispered, wide-eyed.
His voice boomed through the hall. “Bathe her. Dress her properly. Court starts in two hours.”
Sarika almost fainted. Naya’s stomach flipped. Her cheeks scorched.
“Two hours,” Kael repeated. His voice softened. “I’ll be waiting.”
He lifted her chin, brushed a damp curl from her face. Then left, iron cloak sweeping behind him.
Naya sank to her knees. The sea of eyes pressed in. She wanted the earth to swallow her.
⸻
Velmyra Castle – Bathing Chambers
Fifteen minutes later, Naya sank into a warm bath. Steam curled around her like a forgiving cloak. She closed her eyes, absently rubbing her shoulders. A knock sounded.
“Naya? Your gown… it’s ready.”
She opened her eyes to Sarika, holding a pale-blue court dress—soft silk trimmed in silver lace.
“This… for me?” she whispered.
Sarika’s eyes were warm. “His Highness commanded you look presentable. Not… like a maid under duress.”
A warm thrill filled Naya. She focused on her reflection. Her hair, recently washed, tumbled softly over her shoulders. Her skin glowed under candlelight. She felt at once fragile and dangerous.
She changed quickly. The dress slipped over her skin like a second heaviest armor.
⸻
Great Hall – Court Assembly
Naya paused at the door, heart hammering. She looked to Sarika, nodding once, stiff. She stepped in.
A hush fell. The court—lords, ladies, nobles, princes—watched. Even the King nodded faintly. Queen Avalira’s gaze glittered from across the hall—prickly, calculating.
Naya curtsied, facing the dais where Kael stood. He nodded back once, stoic but… softer than anyone else.
Naya held her dress. She looked out at the crowd—some friendly faces, some whispering doom. She knew her second as Naya Elowen, beloved of the crown—or threat to it.
Her eyes caught Adrien near the back, sitting majestic in a visiting princely coat of deep violet and silver. His expression was polite, respectful… curious.
Naya’s heart stuttered.
Hiss of conversation rolled behind her. “Prince Kael almost carried her in,” someone said.
“She’s his…”
“Be careful. Queen’s mood is dark.”
Kael placed a hand on her back. “This seat belongs to my guest. Do not fear.”
She looked at him—strength, defiance, love mingled behind his gaze.
⸻
Court Proceedings
Kael rose.
“Honored guests, today marks a turning point between Velmyra and Theralis. With mutual respect, we shall forge a pact…” He swore diplomacy and alliances, but his eyes never left hers.
Each time he spoke, Naya felt his guardianship resonate—both words and silence forming a shield around her.
At one point he leaned close; his whisper burned warmth near her ear: Stay close to me.
Naya trembled.
Adrien watched her gloved hand hover near Kael’s; he looked away.
Naya’s mind spun. She’d begged to go home, yet here she was: dressed in silk, adored, watched, carried—even by a prince who loved her enough to risk everything.
She hated the confusion.
She hated the longing.
She hated—
Suddenly, Queen Avalira stood.
“As tonight’s hosts, we welcome our honored guest…” She gestured to Adrien. He stood and bowed to Naya—polite, inviting.
Adrien smiled as he stepped forward, wariness shining like hidden swords.
Kael remained silent by her side, an iron sentinel.
Adrien raised a glass. “To bonds older than borders, and to… unexpected beauty.”
Gasps—but Naya felt admiration, respect from the visiting court. She swallowed.
Could she—should she—deny Kael forever?
Her own breath turned sharp.
“My lady?” Kael whispered. “Are you all right?”
She met his gaze steadily. “Yes.”
He placed his hand over hers, strength contained. “Good.”
The Queen’s gaze shifted back and forth—sharp as diamonds. Her lips turned upward.
Perhaps she saw a puzzle unfolding: a prince in love with a servant. A new threat. Or maybe she smiled because the game had only begun.
Naya’s heart clenched. A new chapter starter; the palace drama shifted into high stakes gameboard.
She tightened her grip on Kael’s hand.
Tonight… they’d stood together.
Tomorrow… the world would decide what comes next.
- Writer
