Five

The silence after Caelian pushed him away felt heavier than any sword blow Ravyn had taken in battle.

He sat there on the edge of the bed, watching the fear and confusion play across the prince’s face. Caelian’s chest rose and fell quickly, his bandaged hand still pressed protectively against his stomach. The kiss had been real for those few seconds, Ravyn had felt the way Caelian leaned in before the panic took over. Now the prince looked ready to bolt or break.

Ravyn reached out slowly, giving him time to flinch away. When he didn’t, the king cupped Caelian’s face with both hands, thumbs brushing gently over his cheekbones. The skin there was warm, a little flushed. Ravyn leaned in until their foreheads almost touched.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. The words came out rough, like they had been dragged from somewhere deep. “For all of it. I know you have no reason to believe me. Not after everything I put you through. But I’m sorry, Caelian.”

Caelian’s breath hitched. His eyes darted across Ravyn’s face, searching for the lie. He looked scared, properly scared in a way that twisted something ugly in Ravyn’s chest. Four years of cruelty didn’t vanish because of one strange morning and a few soft words. The prince had every right to expect a trap.

Still, when Ravyn kissed him again, Caelian didn’t stop it.

The second kiss was slower. Deeper. Ravyn poured everything he couldn’t yet say into it, the guilt from dying with Caelian in his arms, the regret that had eaten him alive in that final moment, the vow he had made in his chambers after waking up reborn. Caelian made a small, broken sound against his mouth but kissed back anyway. His good hand came up to grip Ravyn’s wrist, holding on like he was afraid to let go.

"Even if this is fake," Caelian thought somewhere in the haze, "I should enjoy the moment." Four years of loneliness had left him starving for any scrap of real affection. If this turned out to be another game, at least he would have this memory. He let himself sink into it, eyes closed, heart racing.

They stayed like that for several long minutes. The world outside the chambers faded, the distant sounds of servants, the wind rattling the window shutters, the normal life of Eldoria Castle. There was only the warmth of Ravyn’s hands on his face, the taste of him, the way the king’s breath mingled with his own.

Then a sharp knock sounded on the door.

Both men pulled apart. Caelian looked dazed and flushed. Ravyn cursed softly under his breath.

The knock came again, more urgent. “Your Majesty? Captain Garrick sent me. You’re needed in the courtroom. The lords are gathering and tensions are rising over the border taxes.”

Ravyn closed his eyes for a second, jaw tight. He didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not when Caelian was finally looking at him with something other than pure fear. But the kingdom didn’t stop turning just because he had been given a second chance.

He turned back to the prince and brushed a thumb across his lower lip. “I have to go. Stay in my chambers. I won’t be long. I’ll have the maids bring food, whatever you want. Just… don’t leave. Please.”

Caelian nodded slowly, still looking uncertain. “Alright.”

Ravyn stood up and straightened his tunic. He gave Caelian one last long look before heading to the door. As he stepped into the corridor, he motioned to one of the guards posted nearby.

“Tell the maids to bring a full meal to the prince. Meat, bread, wine, fruit, the best we have. And listen carefully: no one goes in there except the maids. Not even the princess. If anyone tries, you turn them away. Understood?”

The guard looked surprised but saluted sharply. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Ravyn walked the long corridors toward the main courtroom with his mind racing. Servants bowed as he passed. Guards snapped to attention. The castle felt the same as always on the surface, but he knew better now. The rot was already there, growing quietly. Liora and her allies would be making their moves soon. He had one year to cut them off before they could strike.

The courtroom was a grand stone hall with high ceilings and banners of Eldoria’s black wolf hanging from the rafters. Long tables had been set up for the nobles. Sunlight streamed through tall arched windows, catching on polished armor and jeweled rings. Several powerful dukes and lords were already gathered, talking in low voices. They fell silent when the king entered.

Ravyn took his seat on the raised throne at the head of the room, trying to look every bit the King of Eldoria they expected. His eyes scanned the faces. Most were familiar. Some had been loyal in the old timeline. Others…

His gaze landed on Duke Harlan Graves.

The man stood near the front, tall and broad shouldered, with a neatly trimmed beard and expensive furs draped over his shoulders. Duke Graves controlled some of the richest trade routes along the southern border. In the last life, Ravyn remembered him clearly now, one of the key nobles who had joined Liora and Darian in the betrayal. He had smiled at Ravyn’s execution like it was a festival day.

Ravyn’s hands tightened on the arms of the throne.

Duke Graves met his eyes and bowed smoothly, but there was something calculating in the man’s expression. Something that made the hair on the back of Ravyn’s neck stand up.

The king leaned forward slightly, heart beating harder. This was it. The first real thread of the old conspiracy sitting right in front of him in open court.