Chapter 39

Rain slicked stones glistened beneath Serenya’s boots as she stumbled into the ruined hall of the Silver Gate. Smoke from the night’s battle still curled through the broken arches, carrying with it the metallic sting of ash and blood. The air itself felt like a grave—silent, heavy, suffocating.

Kaelen trailed close behind, sword still dripping from the siege. His dark hair clung to his temples, and his eyes—once steady, once her anchor—wouldn’t meet hers.

“Don’t speak,” he muttered, voice low but edged. “Not yet.”

Serenya froze. She had seen Kaelen fierce in battle, gentle in whispers, guarded in strategy—but never like this. A chasm yawned between them, and she could feel the distance growing wider with every step they took into the wreckage.

They had survived the siege, yes. The Silver Gate had fallen, yes. But something else had cracked in the night, something more fragile than stone and steel: trust.

A lone torch flickered against the shattered walls, casting shadows across the carved crest of House Thorne. Eloria’s crest. Serenya felt her chest tighten.

“She isn’t here,” Kaelen said, running his palm across the broken emblem. “Eloria fled before the gate fell. She must have known we would breach it.”

“You sound almost… relieved,” Serenya said, voice quieter than the rain outside.

Kaelen’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “Relieved? After everything she’s done? After she betrayed you, betrayed us all, for her claim to the throne?”

Serenya’s lips trembled, not from fear, but from the storm building inside her. “You once promised me you would never keep things from me, Kaelen. Yet tonight—” She stopped, clenching her fists. “Tonight, you disappeared before the final assault. Where were you?”

Kaelen stepped back, shadows swallowing him. “You don’t want the answer.”

Her heart hammered. “I do.”

His silence was worse than steel through flesh.

“Kaelen,” she pressed, her voice breaking. “Do not make me doubt you.”

Finally, he spoke, each word cut sharp. “I met with her.”

The world tilted. Serenya gripped the edge of a shattered pillar to steady herself. “You what?”

“Eloria offered me a bargain,” Kaelen said, eyes dark. “She claimed she would surrender the throne if I delivered you to her unharmed. No blood. No war. Just you.”

The torch sputtered as if recoiling from his words. Serenya’s pulse roared in her ears.

“And you considered it,” she whispered.

Kaelen’s silence answered for him.

The sting of betrayal burned sharper than any blade. Her protector, the man who had vowed loyalty beneath moon and shadow, had stood at the edge of handing her over like a token in a game of crowns.

“Why?” Serenya’s voice cracked. “Why would you even stand before her, let alone listen?”

Kaelen’s fists clenched. “Because I would see you live, Serenya. Because I have watched kingdoms crumble, seen heirs slaughtered for less. If giving her what she wanted meant sparing your life—”

“My life?” she spat. “What worth is my life if it is lived as her prisoner, her puppet? Do you think survival is all I seek?”

Kaelen flinched, but she pressed on, her voice like fire in the ruins. “You promised me freedom. You promised to fight beside me, not to decide my fate behind my back!”

For a heartbeat, neither spoke. Only the hiss of rain through shattered stone filled the silence.

Finally, Kaelen’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining from him. “You are right.” His voice was raw. “I broke that promise. I let fear guide me.” He looked at her then, truly looked—his eyes brimming with regret. “But I did not betray you, Serenya. I could not. When she demanded your surrender, I refused. That is why she fled.”

Her breath hitched. A flicker of relief stirred in her chest—but it was quickly drowned by doubt.

“And how am I to know this is truth, Kaelen? How am I to trust when even a moment’s thought of handing me over lived inside you?”

Kaelen’s jaw tightened. “Because I am still here. Because I chose you, not her.” He stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body despite the rain chilling the hall. “I will always choose you, even if it damns us both.”

Serenya searched his face, desperate for certainty. His eyes burned with conviction, yet she could not silence the ache that whispered he nearly didn’t.

Her heart split between belief and doubt, between love and fear.

“You cannot break promises so easily,” she whispered, voice trembling. “Not when every step we take is built on them.”

Before he could answer, footsteps echoed through the ruined gate. Darian Crestfall emerged, sword drawn, armor cracked but unyielding. His gaze swept between Serenya and Kaelen, lingering too long on the closeness between them.

“I see,” Darian said, voice dripping with something between disdain and sorrow. “While I bled for you both on the battlements, you found time to quarrel about loyalty.”

Serenya straightened. “Darian—”

He raised a hand, silencing her. “I heard enough in the chaos. Whispers of Kaelen bargaining with Eloria reached even the soldiers. Tell me, Serenya—how much of it is true?”

The hall stiffened. Kaelen’s hand went to his sword, but Serenya stepped forward.

“It is not as it seems,” she said quickly. “Kaelen refused her. He stands with us.”

Darian’s eyes flicked to Kaelen, sharp as a blade. “Yet he stood with her long enough to bargain.”

Kaelen growled. “Watch your tongue.”

“Or what?” Darian sneered. “You’ll betray us again in shadows?”

Serenya’s stomach twisted. The rift between them, once hidden beneath unity, now split wide before her. She could almost feel the kingdom tearing at the seams through their voices.

“Enough!” Serenya cried, her voice cracking like a whip. Both men froze. She drew herself tall, her cloak heavy with rain. “If we fall to suspicion now, Eloria has already won. We cannot fracture—not here, not tonight.”

Her voice shook, but her gaze did not. “Darian, Kaelen has sworn himself to me, as you have. If either of you doubt the other, then doubt me. And if you doubt me, then you have no place by my side.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Darian’s eyes softened, regret flickering through his expression. He lowered his blade. “I do not doubt you, Serenya,” he said quietly. “Only the man who shadows you.”

Kaelen bristled, but Serenya raised a hand, stopping him. “Then hold your judgment until dawn. By then, the truth will show itself.”

Darian hesitated, then nodded stiffly before turning away, vanishing into the rain outside.

Serenya finally exhaled, her strength crumbling. She leaned against the cold stone, exhaustion threatening to drag her under.

Kaelen moved closer, reaching for her hand, but she pulled back.

“Not tonight,” she whispered. “I need to believe you, Kaelen. But right now, all I feel are broken promises.”

Her words struck harder than any blade. Kaelen’s hand fell to his side, and his gaze darkened.

“I will win back your trust,” he vowed, voice barely above a whisper. “Even if it costs me everything.”

But as Serenya turned away, her heart ached with the question she dared not voice: And if it already has?