CHAPTER 8

The palace corridors were quieter as Corvin led Elowen away from the throne room. Their footsteps echoed against polished stone, and the chandeliers overhead cast long patterns of gold across the floor. Elowen followed with an unhurried stride, although his senses remained sharp. He did not trust any hallway in this place, especially after the puppet assassin.

Corvin walked with focused purpose. The energy in his shoulders had the hard tension of a man with too many enemies and not enough time to hunt them all. Elowen studied the broad line of his back as they moved. The king had been carved by war, not privilege. Every step reflected that.

“You did not answer my earlier question,” Elowen said. “Where are we going?”

“To the inner gardens,” Corvin replied. “There are no crowds there. We can speak without half the court listening.”

“Speak about what?”

“About last night. And about whoever is trying to kill me.”

Elowen’s smile sharpened. “You assume I did not arrive with the same goal.”

“If you had intended to kill me, you would not have saved me,” Corvin said. “And you certainly would not have taken down the archer with such speed.”

Elowen shrugged. “You do not know everything about me.”

“I know enough.”

They reached a set of tall double doors. Two guards opened them, revealing the inner palace garden. Sunlight poured down through the open roof, warming the stone paths and the patches of green beyond. The garden was enclosed on all sides by high walls and blooming vines. It felt strangely alive.

Elowen inhaled deeply. The scent of moss mingled with the sweetness of pale blossoms that grew in clusters. He recognized the faint hum of magical wards woven into the soil. Whoever had designed this garden had known enough magic to keep intruders from slipping in unnoticed. Considering that he had entered through this garden during his infiltration, the fact annoyed him.

Corvin noticed his expression. “You found a weakness in the wards the night you arrived.”

“Yes.”

“Do you intend to tell me where that weakness lies?”

“No.”

Corvin accepted that without irritation, which surprised Elowen. The king scanned the garden with a soldier’s eye, then motioned toward a shaded stone bench near a fountain.

“Sit,” Corvin said.

Elowen chose not to challenge the command. He sat, stretching his legs out in front of him. Corvin remained standing at first, the sunlight catching in his hair and turning the black strands into a sheen of dark blue.

“The assassin last night used magic I have not seen in many years,” Corvin said.

“I sensed something wrong in him,” Elowen said. “His eyes did not belong to a living thing.”

Corvin nodded. “Theon believes the magic inside him had been placed there by force. It was ancient magic. Something that predates most modern spells.”

Elowen leaned back against the bench. “You speak as if you recognize it.”

“I recognize the effect,” Corvin said quietly. “There were old wars in my grandfather’s time. Certain mages used practices that were outlawed long before I was born. The kind of spells that treats people as vessels rather than minds.”

“Puppet magic,” Elowen murmured.

“Yes.”

Elowen studied Corvin’s face. The king rarely allowed emotion to show, but something old and bitter crossed his eyes as he spoke. He knew more than he wished to admit.

“Someone wants you dead,” Elowen said. “Someone with access to magic your mage does not fully understand.”

“Yes.”

“And someone in your own court is helping them.”

Corvin looked at him. “Do you think you know who?”

Elowen considered the question with careful patience. “The queen dowager hates me, but she does not strike without precision. She would not use a method as unstable as puppet magic. Tavris fears me, but fear makes him predictable. Theon watches everyone, but his loyalty lies with you more than he admits. The nobles are loud but not bold enough to risk direct treason.”

Corvin’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “That leaves you.”

“I would choose a quieter method,” Elowen said. “One that does not depend on someone else’s aim.”

Corvin’s mouth curved faintly. “That is not comforting.”

“It is honest.”

Corvin finally sat beside him. Their knees nearly brushed. The fountain beside them sent out a soft rhythm of falling water.

“You have been inside the palace for several days now,” Corvin said. “Have you noticed anything unusual?”

“Beyond the fact that your court wishes I would vanish?” Elowen asked.

“Yes.”

Elowen shifted slightly, letting his senses open. “Someone in your palace is attempting to hide a scent. I noticed it last night, but the archer overshadowed it. It is faint, but intentional. Someone is masking where they go.”

Corvin’s expression sharpened. “Someone with magic?”

“It is not powerful magic,” Elowen said. “But enough to hide their tracks, and mislead the guards.”

“Show me.”

Elowen stood. Corvin followed. The shifter walked deeper into the garden, past a cluster of white blossoms and toward a narrow stone arch. The scent was faint, as if whoever carried it had slipped through only once or twice. It smelled of metallic dust and burnt herbs. It was foreign magic, not at all natural.

Elowen raised his head. “Whoever did this came through here recently within the last two days.”

“How certain are you?”

“I do not guess about scent,” Elowen said.

Corvin crouched beside the arch and examined the ground. “The garden guards do not patrol this section as often. If someone wanted to escape the detection wards, this would be the ideal place.”

“As I discovered when I arrived,” Elowen added.

Corvin looked up at him. “Which makes your presence even more useful.”

Elowen lifted an eyebrow. “Useful to whom?”

“Me,” Corvin said.

The simplicity of the answer settled between them like a stone dropping through still water.

Elowen stepped away from the arch and moved toward a low wall covered in trailing vines. The sunlight warmed his shoulders. Corvin followed without hesitation.

“You brought me into this garden for more than investigation,” Elowen said.

“Yes.”

Elowen waited.

Corvin’s voice lowered. “The court grows restless. The nobles believe I have allowed sentiment to compromise my judgment.”

“They believe you are distracted,” Elowen said. “I can see that in their eyes.”

“I cannot afford distraction,” Corvin replied. “Not now.”

Elowen studied him for a long moment. “Why tell me this?”

“Because you are part of the distraction,” Corvin said. “And part of the solution.”

The statement stole Elowen’s breath for a heartbeat. “Your court wants me gone.”

“My court wants many things they cannot have,” Corvin said. “They want power without responsibility. They want loyalty without sacrifice. They want control of a throne they do not sit on.”

“And what do you want?”

Corvin looked at him fully. “I want clarity.”

The word carried more weight than Elowen expected. He felt it in his chest.

“You are a confusing presence,” Corvin said. “You save my life and hold secrets in the same breath. You stand beside me in court and remind me that I do not control everything within my own walls. You force me to question my instincts.”

“Is that a complaint?” Elowen asked.

“It is an observation.”

Elowen stepped closer. The sunlight turned Corvin’s pale eyes into molten silver.

“You want to understand me,” Elowen said.

“I need to understand you,” Corvin corrected. “If you intend to stay in this palace, I need to know where you stand.”

“I stand where it benefits me,” Elowen replied.

“For now,” Corvin said softly.

Elowen’s pulse quickened. “Do you expect that to change?”

“I expect everything to change,” Corvin said. “That is the nature of war.”

A quiet breeze passed between them. The scent of the masked trail lingered in the air.

Elowen broke the silence. “You said I am part of the solution, explain that.”

Corvin took a breath. “Someone used the chaos of last night to move inside the palace. Someone slipped past wards even before that, possibly multiple times. You are the only one who can sense the trail they left.”

“You want me to track them.”

“Yes.”

Elowen crossed his arms. “And if the trail leads to someone loyal to you?”

“Then I will deal with them,” Corvin said. “Quietly.”

Elowen considered the request. The mission he had come here to complete pressed against the back of his mind. His people had trusted him. His leaders had expected him to weaken this kingdom. Helping Corvin solve a threat from within did not align with that goal.

Yet something inside him felt the pull of the request. The king’s voice held something that Elowen could not dismiss. It was not authority, but something closer to truth.

“You realize that if I track this person, I may discover something you do not want to see,” Elowen said.

“I prefer a painful truth to a comfortable lie.”

Elowen exhaled slowly. “All right. I will help you.”

Corvin did not move, but something in him relaxed slightly.

“Good,” he said.

Elowen turned back toward the arch. “The trail leads outside the garden. I can follow it.”

“You will not go alone,” Corvin said.

“You do not trust me not to run?”

“If you run, I will follow,” Corvin said. “This is different. Whoever used this magic is dangerous. They killed a man with a spell that should not exist. You will not face them without support.”

Elowen nodded once. “Very well, then let us follow the trail.”

Corvin stepped closer to him. “Elowen.”

The shifter paused.

Corvin held his gaze without flinching. “Do not die.”

The words were quiet but sincere. They came from a place beyond command, strategy and the layers of royal control.

Elowen stared at him, surprised by the sudden warmth in his chest.

“I have no intention of dying,” Elowen said.

“Good.”

Elowen felt the moment shift, delicate and dangerous. He stepped back to break the intensity and motioned toward the arch.

“Let us hunt,” he said.

Corvin nodded.

They walked together out of the garden, side by side, following a trail that led deeper into the palace and deeper into a connection neither of them had chosen, yet both of them had begun to acknowledge.