To Rescue the Broken Soul

Kael walked in a rush, his hand scraping the stain of lipstick from his ear wildly. He hated it all - hated how Ilyana's words got on his nerves so easily because he knew she was right. No matter how long he had watched Elira from the sidelines, she would never look in his direction. It hurt because it was true. He hated the way Elira had to appear at the exact moment of his vulnerability, hated the way she looked at him like he was a lost child desperate for help. Hated that every opinion she had about him mattered deeply to him.

He wanted to disappear. He was sure that he could just disappear. Until he heard the king's attendant speak to Elira, who was left behind.

"His Majesty calls for you, my lady." Those words automatically stopped him in his tracks.

The king - a man he had previously seen as an uncle - now left a bitter taste in his mouth after discovering he was partly responsible for his father's death. And now the king sought his wife. What could the king possibly want from her?

Kael turned around and returned to Elira's side.

"What does he want?" He couldn't stop his voice from sounding sharp and cold.

His tone drew the attention of both Elira and the king's attendant.

"I'm not sure, sir. But the king waits for her in private. He has invited the lady to breakfast with him," the attendant explained.

"Then I will go with her," Kael said firmly.

The attendant nodded as if he already knew Kael would do exactly that, and he knew the king wouldn't mind his company either.

The king welcomed them with open arms. He invited both Elira and Kael to join him at the dining table. Various dishes had already been served, their rich aromas filling the air.

"What a pleasant surprise to see both of you so early this morning," said the king.

Elira wasn't sure if the delight he showed in his words was genuine, because she could sense an edge to his tone. There was more than just pleasure in the king's reaction to their presence.

"I assume this means you've agreed to join the council meeting today, Elira," said the king, sipping his drink.

Elira blinked - she had almost forgotten. The king had indeed invited her to the council meeting last night. But her only reason for coming to the palace had been to follow Kael. She'd never actually intended to accept the king's invitation. Moreover, she understood the king's intention clearly - he wanted her to openly oppose her own father with his support. What she still didn't understand was what kind of scheme he was plotting through this arrangement.

Elira was at a loss for words to respond to the King's conclusion, and it was all something that had not been missed by Kael's attention. He knew that the king had put Elira in a tight spot. So he shifted the conversation by slipping out the royal order of his father's execution in front of the king. Because he also needed the king's explanation about it.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kael put the parchment on the table so the king could read it clearly.

The king's eyes widened in surprise when he recognized the royal order he signed decades ago. The secret he buried for years suddenly presented in front of him like that. He ordered all of the servants to leave the room, leaving the three of them together.

Elira glanced at the parchment and read it from the corner of her eyes, the execution order for Aldric Rennar, signed by her father and stamped by royal seal. The cause was protecting the enemy of the kingdom, werewolves. It sent a chill to her bones. The public thought that Marquis Aldric's death was caused by war, but it was because he had been executed by the king. Her eyes shifted to the king's expression, guilt and regret plastered clearly on his face.

Then she smelled the agony and fury from Kael. She turned her attention to him and it pained her to witness his expression. For Kael, it seemed like the entire world had crumbled down. His body trembled in fury, while his eyes filled with deep desperation. It was as if he would be broken and crumbled into pieces at any time.

"Why did you betray my father?" Kael's voice was hoarse and heavy. As if every word was too heavy to be said.

"Kael, I think we can talk about it later. Not like this," the king said.

His expression was troubled. He took a glance at Elira, indicating to Kael that she was still Malven's daughter who was involved in this case. If they were not careful it would be the same as exposing their weakness to the enemy.

Elira could accept the king's wariness. She lowered her gaze, showing her willingness to step back. But Kael thought otherwise.

"No, I want to hear your explanation now, uncle." It was the first time Kael addressed the king as he used to during his childhood time.

It brought a sense of nostalgia in a painful way. The king frowned, his chest felt heavy by the way he called him like that. He exhaled softly to steady himself.

"I don’t have a choice." The king dragged his palm down his face, shame and guilt from the past haunting him.

"Malven had solid proof that Aldric sheltered werewolves—this kingdom’s enemies. What would happen if I, as king, showed mercy for such treason? Malven even threatened to dethrone me… to harm my child."

The mention of werewolves as enemies made Elira clutch her hands under the table. The king didn’t realize he dined with the very race he condemned.

"You knew my father would never betray you! He must’ve had a reason! You were one of the few he trusted!" Kael’s rage shook the room.

His fists clenched, barely restraining violence in the king’s presence.

"I know. I’m sorry, Kael. But it was the only choice I had as king."

Kael smirked, bitter. 

"You say that like it was righteous, yet you’ve regretted it all these years. You hid the execution from the public—even from me. You even let my family keep the marquis title." His voice dropped to a whisper.

"It was the last mercy I could give Aldric… and you." The king’s desperation hung thick in the air. Kael could only stare, his expression torn. Words failed him.

To an outsider, the king’s choice might seem justified. A ruler must sometimes sever personal ties for the kingdom’s safety. But to Kael? It sounded like excuses—weak justifications for murdering the father he loved.

Elira had heard enough.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but Kael’s state makes it impossible for me to leave him and attend the council." She forced the conversation to end.

Her hand grabbed his—not asking, just taking. Kael’s breath caught. He didn’t even know how lost he was until she pulled him back.

He let her lead him away.

No fighting it. Just the raw shock of her touch cutting through the fog in his head, the dizzying thought that she—eyes sharp, grip iron-tight—was the one pulling him free when everything else was falling apart.

His fingers curled tighter around hers. Not to stop her. Just to keep her close.

Behind them, the king stared at the cold food. A drop of wine spread over the execution order like a fresh stain. Quietly, almost to himself, he muttered, 

"He looks just like his father when he’s been wronged."