Chapter 10: Shadows in the Garden

 

The weight of Bernard’s gaze felt like a physical hand pressing against Kael’s stomach, cold and invasive. For a heartbeat, the air in the banquet hall seemed to vanish, leaving Kael suffocating amidst the scent of roasted pheasant and expensive perfumes. He didn't blink. He couldn't. If he looked away, he felt like the wizard would reach out and pluck the secret right out of his marrow.

"Sir Kael," Bernard purred, his voice barely a whisper over the clinking of silverware. "You look... different. More radiant than usual. Has the Prince been feeding you from his own table?"

"Just the usual barracks slop, Councilman," Kael replied, his voice raspy but steady. He forced a stiff, practiced bow, feeling the specialized leather corset Marisa had crafted digging into his ribs. It was meant to hide the slight rounding of his abdomen, but right now, it felt like a cage. "If you’ll excuse me, the heat in here is a bit much. I’m going to check the perimeter."

He didn’t wait for an answer. Kael turned on his heel, his cape swirling behind him with a sharpness that belied the sudden, frantic thumping in his chest. He could feel Bernard’s eyes tracing the line of his spine all the way to the arched exit.

The moment he stepped into the Moonlit Garden, the cool night air hit him like a bucket of ice water. Kael leaned against a marble pillar, one hand instinctively clutching his midsection. Stay down, little one, he thought, a wave of nausea rolling through him. We aren't ready for the world to know you're here yet.

"It’s a bit late for a stroll, isn't it? Especially for a man in your... delicate condition."

Kael’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword before he had even fully turned. Bernard was standing ten paces away, his silhouette framed by the glowing moon-lilies. The old man didn't look like a scholar anymore; he looked like a vulture that had finally caught the scent of blood.

"Delicate?" Kael spat, trying to summon the old, arrogant knight persona that had served him for years. "I’ve taken spears to the ribs and walked it off, Bernard. I think I can handle a bit of indigestion."

"Don't lie to a man who can hear the rhythm of the stars, boy," Bernard said, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. He raised a hand, and the air around his fingers began to warp, shimmering like heat rising off a summer road. "That isn't indigestion. It’s a miracle. Or a heresy. I haven't quite decided yet."

Before Kael could draw his blade, Bernard flicked his wrist. A pulse of violet energy erupted from his palm, invisible to the mundane eye but hitting Kael’s heightened magical senses like a sledgehammer.

Kael let out a choked gasp as his knees buckled. It wasn't pain—not exactly. It was a terrifying, vibrational hum that seemed to resonate directly with the life force inside him. His vision blurred, and for a terrifying second, he felt the 'second heartbeat' flutter wildly, as if trying to hide from the wizard’s probing magic.

"Stop it!" Kael hissed, his fingers fumbling for the small, carved wooden talisman Marisa had tucked into his belt earlier that day. 'In case the old crows start pecking,' she’d said.

"Show me," Bernard commanded, his voice growing booming and distorted. "Show me what you've stolen from the heavens, Knight."

The dark magic surged again, more aggressive this time. It felt like icy fingers clawing at Kael's womb, trying to peel back the layers of his soul. Kael let out a jagged cry, his forehead hitting the damp grass as he curled into a protective ball. No, no, no—not like this.

"I said, leave him alone!"

The voice didn't come from Kael. It came from the shadows of the garden entrance, vibrating with a raw, primal fury that made even the wind go still.

A flash of steel caught the moonlight. Julian charged across the grass, his cloak billowing like wings of midnight. He didn't look like a refined prince anymore; he looked like a god of war. He stepped directly between Kael and the wizard, his sword leveled at Bernard’s throat.

"Prince Julian," Bernard said, his voice returning to its oily calm, though he took a hasty step back. "I was merely... assessing your advisor’s health. He seemed faint."

"I will assess your head’s health if you don't lower your hand this instant," Julian growled. His eyes were glowing—a faint, golden residue of the curse-break that still lingered in his blood. "Get out. If I see you near him again, I won't wait for a Council vote to have you executed for treason."

Bernard’s gaze darted to Kael, who was trembling on the ground, and then back to Julian. A slow, sickening smile spread across the wizard’s face. "Treason? My Prince, you have no idea what has been planted in your own garden. But I suppose... the harvest will be soon enough."

With a mock bow and a swirl of robes, Bernard retreated into the darkness of the palace corridors.

Julian didn't chase him. The moment the wizard was gone, the Prince dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees beside Kael. "Kael? Kael, look at me. Are you hurt? Talk to me, dammit!"

Kael took a shuddering breath, his hands still clamped over his stomach. The violet resonance was fading, replaced by the familiar, comforting warmth of Julian’s presence. "I’m... I’m okay," he whispered, though his voice was thin. "He saw it, Julian. He felt the magic. He knows."

Julian gathered Kael into his arms, pulling him close with a desperate, crushing strength. He tucked Kael’s head under his chin, his heart racing against Kael’s ear. "I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you."

"I felt it," Kael said, a single tear escaping and soaking into Julian’s silk tunic. "The baby... it was scared. I couldn't protect it."

"You did protect it," Julian countered, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough to cup Kael’s face, his thumbs wiping away the moisture. "You held him off. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever known, Kael. But this..." Julian looked back toward the palace, his expression hardening into something cold and terrifying. "The palace is a viper’s nest. If Bernard knows, the rest of the Council will know by morning. They’ll call it an abomination. They’ll try to take you."

Julian helped Kael to his feet, keeping a firm arm around his waist to steady him. Kael leaned into the support, his legs still feeling like jelly.

"We can't stay here," Julian muttered, more to himself than to Kael. He looked down at Kael’s midsection, his hand hovering for a second before he gently pressed his palm against the hidden curve of the leather corset. "He’s going to come back with the whole Guard. Or the Inquisitors."

Kael looked at Julian, seeing the fear and the fierce love warring in the Prince’s eyes. For the first time, the reality of their situation hit him with the weight of a falling mountain. They weren't just a knight and his prince anymore. They were a family under siege.

"Where would we go?" Kael asked, his voice regaining some of its steel.

Julian looked toward the dark silhouettes of the mountains on the horizon, his jaw set in a grim line. "Somewhere they can't reach. Somewhere where 'Strategic Advisor' means more than just a title to keep you in my bed." He looked back at Kael, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips despite the danger. "Besides, I think you’d look much better in a cabin than a barracks. We're leaving. Tonight."

Kael started to protest, his duty-bound mind thinking of the logistics, but the way Julian was holding him—as if he were the most precious thing in the entire kingdom—silenced him.

But as they turned to head toward the secret stables, a low, rhythmic chanting began to echo from the palace spires, and the gargoyles atop the roof seemed to shift their stony gazes toward the garden. Bernard hadn't gone to sleep; he had gone to wake the rest of the coven.