Chapter 29

The river was not quiet that night.

Its waters whispered against the banks, pulling at the reeds like restless hands, as if the currents themselves carried secrets too heavy to contain. A veil of mist clung low across the surface, glowing faintly in the silver wash of moonlight.

Serenya stood on the worn stone pier, cloak pulled tight, eyes scanning the fog. Every instinct warned her she should not have come—yet she had. The council had fractured earlier that day, each noble swearing loyalty to different crowns, and whispers of betrayal had spread like fire in a dry field. But it wasn’t politics that had drawn her to the river.

It was Kaelen.

He emerged from the shadows at the far end of the dock, his boots silent on the wood. The mist curled around him, half hiding the faint scar along his jawline, and for a heartbeat Serenya thought he might vanish again into the night.

“You came,” he said softly.

“I shouldn’t have,” she answered, though her heart betrayed her with its sudden quickened rhythm.

Kaelen’s gaze was steady, yet something darker lingered beneath it tonight—worry, perhaps, or guilt. He moved closer, his hand brushing briefly against hers in the cover of shadow. “The river is no longer safe. Thalric has set spies even here. If they find us—”

“Then they’ll see only a lady and her guard exchanging words,” Serenya interrupted, forcing steel into her voice.

But her mask cracked when he reached into his cloak and pulled free a strip of bloodstained parchment. He handed it to her, and she felt her fingers tremble as she unfolded it.

A name stared back at her.

Serenya Vale.

“They know,” she whispered, the weight of her secret pressing like stone against her chest.

“Not all of them,” Kaelen said quickly. “Only fragments of truth have slipped. Enough to stir the wrong eyes. Enough for Thalric to begin tightening his net.”

The duke’s name was poison on her tongue. He had been circling the throne like a vulture since the first crack in the kingdom’s unity, and if he discovered her bloodline, he would not hesitate to turn the realm into ash just to claim it for himself.

“We must move before the council convenes again,” Kaelen urged. “If they learn what you are without allies at your back, they’ll brand you traitor, not heiress.”

Serenya wanted to believe his urgency was for her safety alone, but doubt gnawed at her. Kaelen had always walked in shadows, his loyalty shifting like the mist on the river. She had seen him shield her from blades, yet she had also caught him hiding truths—fragments of his past, names he would not speak, scars he would not explain.

“You ask me to trust you blindly,” she said. “Yet you offer me no proof that your path leads anywhere but ruin.”

His expression tightened, pained. “I’ve bled for you. Isn’t that proof enough?”

She turned away, staring into the dark water. Her reflection blurred in the ripples, twin to the woman she was and the heir she could become. “Proof fades as quickly as blood dries.”

For a moment, silence fell, broken only by the soft lap of the river against the pier. Then Kaelen stepped closer, his voice low, almost desperate. “If you doubt me, then let me show you what I’ve hidden. The truth I swore to bury.”

Her breath caught.

“Tonight?”

“Yes. But once you see it, there will be no going back. You’ll know who I really am—and why the shadows follow me.”

Her instinct screamed caution, yet something deeper whispered she needed this. The kingdom was unraveling, her enemies growing bolder, and secrets were daggers—daggers that could either kill her or arm her.

“Show me,” she said.

Kaelen exhaled, the faintest sound of relief. “Then follow.”

He led her along the narrow path that traced the riverbank, the mist curling higher as if trying to swallow them whole. Ahead, lanterns glowed faintly from boats drifting like black silhouettes across the current. Serenya’s senses sharpened, every rustle in the reeds setting her nerves on edge.

“Where are we going?” she whispered.

“Across,” Kaelen murmured. “To the ruins beyond the far shore. That’s where the truth lies.”

They reached a small skiff tethered to a half-rotten post. Kaelen steadied it with one hand and motioned for her to step in. Serenya hesitated, then gathered her cloak and climbed aboard. The boat rocked gently as he pushed them off into the current.

The river swallowed them quickly. Mist clung to her skin, damp and cold, while the silence pressed heavy—too heavy. Her unease deepened when Kaelen’s gaze kept flicking past her shoulder toward the far bank, like a man expecting an arrow at any moment.

“Something hunts us,” she said quietly.

His jaw flexed. “I know.”

A shadow slipped across the mist behind them. Serenya’s fingers went instantly to the dagger hidden in her sleeve. She did not speak, did not move, but her heart pounded loud in her ears.

“Kaelen,” she breathed.

He spun, hand on his blade, just as a second boat cut silently through the fog. Figures in dark hoods crouched low, oars muffled, moving with lethal precision.

Thalric’s men.

Kaelen’s sword rang as he drew it. “Stay down!”

But Serenya was no helpless lady. As the first hooded figure leapt across the gap, she slashed with her dagger, catching fabric and flesh. The man cried out, toppling into the water. Another swung a hooked blade, splintering the side of their skiff.

The boats collided, wood groaning under the impact. Mist turned crimson as steel met steel. Kaelen fought like shadow and fire, each strike precise, each movement meant to kill. Serenya stayed low but swift, her dagger striking throats and hands that reached too close.

Yet they were outnumbered.

“Jump!” Kaelen barked.

Without hesitation, he seized her wrist and hurled them both into the freezing current. The river closed over her head, dragging her into darkness. Panic clawed her chest as she kicked upward, breaking the surface with a gasp. Kaelen’s grip was iron on her arm, pulling her toward the reeds near the far bank.

They stumbled onto the mud-soaked shore, soaked and shivering. Behind them, the clash of blades and the shouts of Thalric’s men echoed across the water.

Serenya pressed a hand to her chest, breath ragged. “You knew they’d follow.”

“I counted on it,” Kaelen admitted, his voice hoarse. “Better they chase us here than catch you unguarded at the council.”

Her shock turned to anger. “You used me as bait?”

His hand caught her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I used myself. You chose to come.”

Her fury warred with the truth in his words. She tore free of his grip, heart still hammering. “Then this truth you promised—show me it was worth the risk.”

Kaelen’s gaze softened, though shadows lingered in his eyes. He nodded toward the ruins rising in the distance—a jagged silhouette against the moonlit mist. “There,” he said. “Within those stones lies the reason I walk in shadows. And the reason your fate and mine are bound tighter than you realize.”

Serenya followed his gaze, the weight of unspoken revelations pressing on her like a second cloak. Somewhere in those ruins, secrets waited—secrets that might save or damn them both.

She straightened, gripping her dagger with renewed resolve. “Then let’s end this night with no more lies.”

Together, they stepped from the riverbank into the waiting shadows, unaware that another pair of eyes watched from the mist.

Eloria Thorne’s lips curved into a dangerous smile.