CHAPTER 50: CHAPTER 48: BEFORE THE WORDS ARE SPOKEN

Kaelith wasn’t quite himself, even though he pretended to be. It wasn’t just that he had shouted at Elion. It was that he had used his royal authority against him. That thought weighed heavily on his mind. His chest felt tight, uneasy. He didn’t know how Elion would feel in the morning... and that uncertainty gnawed at him.

When he finally lay down, he turned his back on Hale.

Hale watched him in silence for a while. He knew Kaelith’s heart better than anyone. He knew how kind he truly was. And right now, Kaelith was likely consumed with guilt, not just for raising his voice, but for lashing out at someone he considered a brother.

Hale pulled a little tease to get Kaelith to speak...

"I feel so lonely," he said with a soft, playful sigh, facing the opposite direction. "Sleeping beside my man... but he feels so distant."

Kaelith heard it. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he turned to face Hale.

"Hale," he said gently, voice warm. "Come. Rest on my chest."

Hale didn’t hesitate. He moved closer, laying his head over Kaelith’s heart.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "For being the reason things turned out this way."

Kaelith shook his head. "Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Elion was wrong to speak like that... and I let my anger get the best of me. That part’s on me."

Hale looked up at him, his expression soft. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Kaelith’s lips.

Kaelith kissed him back without hesitation, and in that moment, the tension in his chest melted. The kiss was slow, comforting everything he needed to calm the storm inside him.

After a few moments, Kaelith pulled back slightly and whispered, "When we return to Zarethrone... you’re spending the night in my chambers."

He gave Hale a meaningful look. "And this time, I’m not holding back. I’ll be going in there."

Hale gave a little smirk. "I’m all yours, Kaelith. You can take me anytime."

Kaelith smiled, brushing a kiss to his forehead.

But before the warmth could settle between them, a knock echoed from the door.

A voice called out from the other side: "Prince Kaelith. The Priestess summons you. Only you."

Hale sat up quickly. "I’ll come with you. It’s late. And dark. It might be dangerous."

Kaelith reached for his cloak, then looked over his shoulder. "There’s nothing dangerous here," he said calmly. "We’re only afraid of what we imagine. And besides... I know her. She would never harm any of us."

He stood, fastened his cloak, and stepped into the quiet hall, following the voice that called him toward the Priestess.

The hallway was dimly lit with torches that flickered against the ancient stone, casting long shadows as Kaelith approached the temple chamber. The door was already open... waiting.

He stepped inside.

The Priestess stood in the center of the room, robed in silver and deep blue, her hands resting lightly on a glowing bowl of still water. Her long white hair shimmered beneath the firelight, and her silver eyes lifted as he entered.

Kaelith stepped into the priestess’s chamber.

The heavy stone door closed behind him with a dull thud. Candles flickered along the carved walls, casting shadows that stretched like reaching hands.

The Priestess turned slowly to face him.

"Your Highness," she said with a calm, ancient voice. "It’s good you’ve come."

Kaelith inclined his head.

"Thank you for the honor."

She looked him over with quiet scrutiny.

"Who is the man that followed you into your room tonight?" she asked. "And what is your relationship with him?"

Kaelith stiffened, caught off guard. He hesitated but replied steadily.

"He’s my servant."

The Priestess raised a brow.

"Just a servant?"

Kaelith met her gaze, and something shifted in him. He knew there was no hiding from her. If she asked, it meant she already knew.

"I love him," he admitted, voice low but firm. "But I’m not allowed to."

The Priestess didn’t flinch. She didn’t even blink.

Kaelith studied her face. He had expected surprise or at least disapproval. Instead, she remained unreadable.

"You love him," she repeated, then asked,

"Do you even know him?"

Kaelith nodded once.

"He’s from a small village. He came to Zarethrone a few months ago. He worked as a stable boy, then as a servant. I know him and he was chosen by the king." He’s also a blacksmith’s son, he really didn’t have a valuable history.

The Priestess gave a soft, knowing chuckle.

"Is that all you know? That he’s a blacksmith’s son with no noble title and no story?"

Kaelith frowned slightly.

"Yes. That’s all I know... He doesn’t speak much about his past."

The Priestess said nothing for a moment. Her hands hovered over a bowl of water that shimmered with light.

Then she murmured,

"Remember this question... on the day it matters most."

Kaelith’s eyes narrowed.

"I don’t understand."

"What is the young man’s name?" she asked.

"Hale," he answered.

The Priestess stilled.

"Oh... I see why."

Kaelith took a step closer.

"See what?"

She looked at him with a gentle but heavy expression.

"The solution to Zarethrone is simple. That scroll you carry... it has nothing to do with the Whisperer."

Kaelith blinked.

"Then what is the solution? Tell me."

"I will," she said, turning away. "In the morning."

As Kaelith turned to leave, her voice came again, soft, almost sorrowful.

"Keep that man close to you. And be prepared to forgive him for anything."

He turned back, confused.

"Forgive him? For what?"

"Forgiveness," she said, "is the bond that keeps two souls together. There is a secret... but destiny can never be destroyed."

Kaelith opened his mouth to speak again, but her form began to shimmer.

She smiled faintly.

"Remember tonight."

And like smoke, she vanished before his eyes.

Kaelith stood in silence, her final words echoing through the chamber, heavy with meaning.

Kaelith stood frozen, staring at the spot where the Priestess had just been. The scent of burning sage still lingered in the air, but her presence was gone, like mist before the wind.

Her words echoed in his mind.

"Be prepared to forgive him..." There is a secret..."

He clenched his fists slowly, a weight settling in his chest. What did she mean? What secret? Why Hale?

The door creaked open again without a push. Kaelith took one last look around the empty chamber, then stepped back into the hallway. The torchlight flickered as he walked, his boots barely making a sound against the ancient stone floor.

Hale was standing right outside.

He looked up the second Kaelith appeared. "You’re back."

Kaelith gave a short nod. "Let’s go."

They walked side by side in silence, footsteps quiet against the worn stone. The corridor was still, the air thick with the weight of unsaid things.

Hale glanced at him a few times, as though expecting Kaelith to speak, but Kaelith said nothing. His expression was unreadable, focused ahead.

Once they entered their chamber again, Kaelith moved directly to the hearth, stirring the low-burning fire. The soft light filled the room in flickers, casting golden lines across Hale’s face.

Hale lingered by the door, uncertain. "Did she...?" He stopped himself.

Kaelith turned, cloak half slipped from his shoulders. "She asked a few questions. Nothing clear yet."

"What did she want?" Hale tried again, voice gentle.

Kaelith exhaled, tired. "Answers. But none of them add up. She said we’ll know more in the morning."

Hale studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright."

Kaelith moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Hale remained quiet, watching him from across the room. Kaelith didn’t offer any more details.

The prince’s mind was tangled. He couldn’t make sense of the cryptic warnings, and he wasn’t ready to voice them aloud, not yet. Not even to Hale.

Instead, he reached down, unfastened the clasps at his collar, and let his shoulders relax. Hale approached, slow and steady, but said nothing else.

When Hale finally sat beside him, there was a comfortable silence, heavy with exhaustion but edged with understanding.

Whatever the Priestess meant, Kaelith would face it in time. But not tonight.

Tonight, they rested.

And Kaelith, despite the weight on his chest, knew he wasn’t facing it alone.

Both men slept soundly, wrapped in the quiet peace of the early morning. Kaelith had remained close to Hale throughout the night, his arms curled protectively around him. He didn’t want to wake. Not yet. The warmth of Hale’s body and the steady rhythm of his breathing helped keep the storm in his mind at bay. For a few hours, there was no kingdom. No scroll. No Priestess. Only stillness.

Meanwhile, across the corridor, Elion was already awake, fully dressed and sitting near the open window of his shared room with Lysaro. The morning light crept in with a soft orange hue, painting his thoughts with regret.

"I’ll go to him first," Elion finally said, standing and adjusting the folds of his cloak. "Before we leave, I should say something."

Lysaro looked up from tying his bracers. "Wait. Let’s go together. You’re not the only one who needs to make things right."

Elion hesitated... "Then nodded once.

The two of them walked quietly down the hallway. The other knights were beginning to stir, but the temple was still mostly silent. They reached Kaelith’s door. Elion lifted a hand and knocked once, twice. No answer.

He knocked again, firmer this time.

Still no response.

Impatience flickered across Elion’s face. "What if something’s wrong?"

As Elion reached for the door handle, his fingers just brushing the wood, Lysaro caught his arm.

"Elion," he said quietly but firmly. "Wait."

Elion turned, his brow furrowed. "What is it?"

Lysaro said, lowering his voice. "Let’s go get ready first. We’re leaving for Zarethrone today, remember?"

Elion hesitated, eyes lingering on the closed door.

Lysaro continued, "You came to talk to him, not burst in uninvited. Let him wake on his own terms. We’ll both speak to him after."

A beat passed. Then, reluctantly, Elion sighed and nodded.

"Fine," he muttered. "But I’m not putting it off forever."

Lysaro gave a half-smile. "Just an hour. Let him breathe."

And with that, the two turned away from the door and walked back down the corridor, their footsteps echoing softly through the stone hall. The sun was slowly rising beyond the towers of Khasidar, painting the walls with light as if gently easing them all into the day ahead.