AN OATH STRONGER THAN DESIRE (To love beneath the crown)

The city below was waking, golden light spilling across rooftops like molten metal, but Kaelin barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the palace ahead, its towers and turrets looming with the weight of centuries. Each flag snapping in the wind was a reminder of the rules she had once broken, the chains of a kingdom she had long been exiled from. She had returned, and every step forward felt like stepping into a cage she had built herself.

She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, even though the morning air was crisp, not cold. Every detail mattered—the sound of her heels on the polished walkway, the careful adjustment of her gloves, the way her gaze swept the courtyard to memorize its every angle. The palace would know her as Kaelin Verain, a political strategist recently hired to stabilize the monarchy during a precarious transition. The truth—her real name, her past, her family’s betrayal—was buried beneath layers of carefully forged credentials and forged letters of recommendation. For now, that secret was her only weapon.

She had not seen him yet. And yet, she felt it—a presence that tightened her chest and quickened her pulse, the kind of presence that had haunted her dreams since the day he had delivered her exile. Lord Riven, the sworn protector of the crown, the man whose loyalty was as ironclad as his reputation. He was everywhere in the palace, even when he was nowhere in sight, a shadow behind every council meeting, a ghost in every hallway. And she was about to be in his direct line of vision.

Kaelin stepped through the massive palace gates, heart steadying despite the familiar weight of apprehension. Nothing could prepare her for the intensity of being back. Memories surfaced unbidden: the public humiliation, the judgmental eyes, the feel of the council’s scorn pressing down like a physical force. She had been young then—naïve, reckless—but never weak. And she was certainly not weak now.

The guards acknowledged her with formal nods, their eyes sharp, their movements precise. Each detail reinforced the world she was reentering: a world of control, surveillance, and hidden agendas. It was a kingdom built on obedience and fear, and she had returned not as a child to be punished, but as an adult with knowledge, skill, and a dangerous secret.

She paused in the main courtyard, her boots echoing against the marble. And then she saw him.

Riven.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, impeccably dressed in the dark ceremonial uniform of the crown’s elite guard. His posture was perfect, his movements precise, and yet there was an undeniable magnetism to the way he occupied space. Kaelin’s chest tightened, a flutter she had spent years denying. The man who had cast her into exile was standing before her, oblivious to the fact that the woman who had returned was the very same girl he had once condemned.

His gaze swept the courtyard and landed on her. For a moment, his expression was neutral, professional, controlled. But Kaelin thought she saw the tiniest flicker of something else—recognition? Curiosity? A hint of unease? She could not be certain, and that uncertainty thrilled her in ways she could not admit, even to herself.

“You’re early,” he said, his voice low, precise, but carrying a resonance that made her stomach twist. “The council meeting isn’t for another hour.”

Kaelin inclined her head, keeping her tone even, carefully measured. “I wanted to familiarize myself with the courtyard before the council begins.”

His eyes lingered on her longer than necessary, tracing the line of her jaw, the tilt of her shoulders, the way her gloves fit snugly over her hands. Every gesture seemed deliberate, controlled, and yet she could feel the tension radiating from him. Riven was a man who did not give away emotion lightly, and here she was, acutely aware of every flicker, every twitch.

“Follow the east corridor. The Queen expects you in the strategy chamber,” he instructed, stepping aside with a precision that left no room for argument.

Kaelin obeyed, her pulse hammering—not entirely from fear. Every step forward was a reminder of what had been lost, what had been denied, and what was now within her grasp again. The corridor was long, marble floors reflecting her heels like a twin set of shadows. With every echoing step, she rehearsed her entrance, her posture, her demeanor. She was not the same girl who had been exiled. She was stronger, smarter, more dangerous.

And yet, every instinct in her body warned her that Riven was not simply a guard, a protector, or a man of the crown. He was a storm contained in human form, and she had spent the last five years learning how storms broke, how they could be weathered—and how, if mishandled, they could destroy everything in their path.

A messenger appeared, bowing deeply, holding a sealed scroll. Kaelin’s eyes flicked toward Riven, curious but cautious. He accepted it with a formal nod, breaking the silence with barely a whisper, “This is for your attention alone.” He broke the seal, scanning the contents rapidly. Kaelin caught the glint of the royal crest—the one she had spent years erasing from memory, the one she had sworn never to return to. Her family’s mark, unmistakable, branded on paper for the world to see.

His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed, sharp, calculating. And then he looked up, locking onto hers. That controlled exterior faltered for the briefest instant, like a wall cracking under pressure.

“You…” His voice was low, clipped, as if even breathing her name aloud risked some catastrophe.

“I never left,” she said, her tone steady, but the edge of tension in her voice was undeniable. “I was always meant to be here.”

The words hung between them like a challenge. And for a heartbeat, the world shrank to the space between them: two people bound by duty, betrayal, and a past that neither could forget.

His eyes darkened, and Kaelin felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the morning chill. It was the kind of heat that burned quietly, that ignites slowly, that promises danger if indulged. He was a man of oaths, discipline, and control. And she… she had always been dangerous.

“You understand what this means?” he asked, voice tight, controlled, yet with an undercurrent she could feel if she listened closely enough. “The crown… your presence here… everything has consequences.”

“I understand,” she said, though the truth was more complicated. She understood the risks, yes. She understood the stakes. But she also understood desire—the pull that had been with her since he had first passed judgment, since he had first made her feel the thrill of being seen, and the sting of being punished.

He studied her in silence, the air taut with unspoken tension. Then, just as she thought he would move on, he stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the faint heat radiating from him, the subtle scent of cologne and something more—something primal, restrained.

“Do not let… personal feelings interfere,” he said, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied softly, though the whisper carried a promise she wasn’t ready to claim, even to herself.

They were both masters of restraint, but the tension in the room was electric. Every glance, every motion, every step carried the weight of past betrayals and unspoken desire. She had returned to the palace for strategy and survival, but in his presence, survival suddenly felt inadequate. Something far more dangerous—far more intoxicating—was already in motion.

As Kaelin continued down the corridor, she felt the brush of his gaze follow her, relentless and unyielding. It was as though he could see the truth in her, even if he refused to acknowledge it, even if the oath he had sworn demanded he look away.

For the first time in years, Kaelin allowed herself a small, dangerous thought: perhaps the crown, the duty, the oaths—they weren’t the only things she had to navigate. Perhaps the most treacherous path lay in the pull she felt toward the man she had once feared, the man she had once hated, and the man whose desire she could no longer ignore.

And somewhere deep in the shadows of her mind, a single truth burned hotter than any fear: some oaths could be broken. Some desires could not. And for Kaelin, the hardest choices—and the most forbidden—were only just beginning.