The training grounds of Zarethrone echoed with the clanging of steel and the rhythmic thuds of boots striking hard-packed earth. Morning mist still lingered, veiling the sun in a gauze of silver, but the air was already thick with anticipation. War had been named, and with it came urgency.
Prince Kaelith stood at the edge of the field, armor gleaming beneath his dark cloak, his eyes fixed on the rows of soldiers ahead. He gave no commands. He simply observed, unmoved, a statue of duty and control.
Behind him, Hale approached.
He kept his distance at first, uncertain. The silence from Kaelith that morning hadn't just been quiet, it had been deliberate. Painfully so. Hale had known the weight of distance before, but not like this. Not after what had happened between them. Not after a night so intimate that it had shaken the very core of his loyalty.
"Your Highness," Hale said, bowing his head slightly. The southern recruits are assembled. The blacksmiths are preparing the new plate mail. And the armory has begun rationing blades.
Kaelith didn't turn. And the siege instructors?
They are on their way, Your Highness.
Only a sharp nod followed.
The tension between them coiled like a whip.
Hale tried again. We could move the second line of recruits closer to the outer gates. There are rumors that Orvania's scouts have already crossed the Midline.
That decision falls to the commander, Kaelith replied.
The air turned colder than the mist.
Hale gritted his jaw. "Understood."
Kaelith finally turned. For a second, their eyes met, and Hale saw nothing of the softness from the night before. No warmth. Just steel.
"Your duty," Kaelith said, measured and clipped, is not to counsel me. It is to obey.
The words struck deeper than they should have.
Hale bowed his head once more, hiding the flicker of hurt in his eyes. Yes, Your Highness.
As Kaelith turned back to the field, Hale remained behind him, unmoving. Not out of respect, but out of disbelief.
Later that afternoon, the skies began to clear, but the mood over the palace darkened.
In the war chamber, nobles bickered over tactics. Kaelith sat silently through it all, his face unreadable, his mind elsewhere.
Every time he blinked, he saw Hale.
He remembered the feeling of Hale's fingers on his skin. The soft gasps between their kisses. The way he had whispered for him to stay.
But now he had sent him away acting like nothing had happened. As if Hale were just another shadow in his court. As if he had not touched him in the one place no man had ever dared.
His heart.
He exhaled sharply. There is no time for this.
The court needed leadership. Zarethrone was on the brink. Personal desires had no place now. He couldn't afford to be the prince who faltered before war. Not now or ever.
And yet...
When Hale passed by, delivering a scroll to one of the generals, Kaelith's eyes found him.
Just for a heartbeat.
And Hale looked back.
One glance. One scarred memory between them.
At that moment, nothing was said.
As dusk descended, the prince returned to his chambers. The servants had laid out his training garments, a light meal, and two messages. One from Lysandra, unopened. One of the front scouts, already read and discarded.
Kaelith sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the floor at the space where Hale had once stood.
The memory clung to Kaelith like warmth after fire slow to fade, impossible to ignore.
Hale's hands hadn't just touched him. They had held him with care. His breath against Kaelith's skin hadn't just stirred desire, it had awakened something deeper. And his eyes… they hadn't looked at a prince, or an heir, or a symbol of a kingdom. They had looked at him. Simply him. As a man. A man who could be touched. A man who could be wanted. A man who, in that moment, was truly seen. Not for duty. Not for bloodline. But for who he was underneath it all.
What have I done?
A soft knock broke the silence.
He said nothing.
The door creaked open anyway.
Hale stepped inside, his jaw tight, shoulders squared. There was no warmth in his eyes now only restraint.
"Forgive me for the intrusion, Your Highness."
Kaelith still didn't speak.
I came to report, Hale continued, his voice even. The recruits have been stationed. Patrols around the palace walls have doubled.
Still, no reply.
He gave a single nod, turned to leave.
Then came Kaelith's voice low and strained.
Why did you let that happen?
Hale blinked, unsure. "What?"
Kaelith turned now, slow and deliberate. His eyes weren't sharp they were tired, guarded.
You came back, he said. You touched me. You did that with me. Why?
The question wasn't harsh. It was heavier than anger woven with guilt and something else Hale couldn't yet name.
He took a breath, slow and careful. I thought… he hesitated, I thought we shared the same feeling.
Kaelith didn't speak.
Hale stepped closer, testing the silence.
I've seen the way you look at me. Especially when I'm near someone else. The way your eyes narrow when I serve another man's punishment in the Court of Judgement. His voice softened. "I thought I wasn't imagining it."
Kaelith's jaw twitched.
"You should have walked away," he said. You should've left me alone.
"I tried."Hale's voice was quiet.
But you were shaking. Alone. And I knew I could help… I couldn't leave.
You knew it was forbidden, Kaelith said, stepping forward. You knew.
Their eyes locked.
The words hung between them like unsheathed blades neither willing to draw blood, but both wounded already.
Hale's throat worked as he tried to say more. Tried to offer a reason, an apology, or the truth.
But Kaelith held up a hand not to stop him with force, but with weariness.
Not now.
The air between them shifted, thick with things unsaid. Their breaths mirrored each other unsteady, restrained.
And beyond the walls, the war drums beat.
His fists were clenched, and his breath was shallow.
And look what it has cost, he said, voice trembling under control. "My engagement is in ruins. The court whispers. War is at our door. And I... he hesitated, eyes dark, I let myself be seen.
Hale stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
Then see me now, he said. Not as your guilt. Not as a mistake. But the man who touched you gently. Who held you like you mattered? Who never asked you to be anything but yourself.
You're not the reason behind this war, Hale said gently, stepping closer. What happened between us… It didn't cause this.
Kaelith looked away, jaw tight, but Hale pressed on.
You know they couldn't declare war overnight. Armies don't march without warning. Plans like this take weeks or months. This isn't punishment for what we did.
Kaelith's silence lingered, heavy and sharp.
It's just a coincidence, Hale said gently. The timing might feel cruel, but what happened between us didn't cause this war. Please… don't carry this guilt. It's not your fault.
Kaelith's breath hitched. The words struck too deep, too true. And they hurt because they were everything he feared, and everything he wanted.
But before he could respond, another knock shattered the tension.
This one was hurried, loud.
A voice from the other side. Your Highness. Scouts from Orvania have breached the eastern ridge.
Kaelith turned to the door, jaw tightening.
Sound the alarm, he commanded. Summon the court. Every soldier is to be armed by dawn.
The footsteps retreated quickly.
Hale lingered. His face was unreadable, but the ache in his eyes spoke louder than words.
Kaelith's gaze finally lifted. And in that moment, he didn't see the uniform or the hands that had once claimed him in silence. He saw the man who remained, unshaken, uninvited yet unwavering in his place, even after being left behind.
This conversation is not over, Kaelith said quietly.
Hale gave a short nod. I'll be beside you when the gates open.
Without another word, he turned and left.
Kaelith stood alone, the echoes of his own choices wrapping around him like chains.
The ground trembled.
War was no longer coming.
It had arrived.