Beneath the Silver Tree

Elara's footsteps echoed through the grand hall as she made her way to the king's chambers. The air felt heavy, laced with the unspoken expectations that had governed her life for years.

The guards stationed outside the doors gave her a quick glance before stepping aside to let her in. Taking a steadying breath, she entered.

King Aldred sat in his massive chair by the fireplace, a goblet of wine in his hand. His sharp eyes, once so charming in public, were dark with quiet calculation in private. He was a man who ruled with control rather than warmth, a ruler who saw people as pieces in his grand game of power.

Elara bowed. "Your Majesty."

The king's lips curved in a knowing smile. "My dear wife. It has been some time since we last spoke."

She forced herself to remain still, to hide the unease growing inside her. "I did not wish to disturb you."

He chuckled, swirling the wine in his goblet. "A dutiful wife. How fortunate I am."

Elara clenched her hands at her sides. She had learned long ago that the king's compliments were often laced with something deeper—something dangerous.

"I hear you've been spending quite a bit of time in the gardens," he mused, his tone casual. "Alone."

A chill ran through her spine.

The words were spoken lightly, but the weight behind them was suffocating. He knew.

Not everything, perhaps—but enough.

Elara kept her expression calm. "I find the gardens peaceful."

The king took a slow sip of his wine, watching her carefully. "Peaceful," he repeated, as though testing the word. Then he leaned forward. "And yet, I wonder, my dear… Does peace come from solitude, or from the company of a familiar face?"

Her breath caught.

He knows about Kael.

She swallowed the rising panic, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "What is it you truly wish to say, my lord?"

A smirk ghosted over his lips. "You are my wife, Elara. You belong to me. I do not take kindly to distractions."

A sharp dagger of fear twisted in her chest.

She knew what he was implying. The king's jealousy was not the kind that came from love—it came from possession. He had never cared for her, but he would not tolerate the idea of another man holding her attention.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

If he truly saw Kael as a threat, then he would not hesitate to remove him.

"You misunderstand," she said carefully, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Sir Kael is only here to serve as my guard."

The king raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

She nodded, keeping her hands from trembling. "I have no reason to betray you."

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, to her horror, he smiled.

"I believe you," he said, setting his goblet down. "For now."

Elara knew better than to breathe a sigh of relief. The king never acted without purpose. This was not trust—this was a warning.

He would be watching.

And if he ever decided she had crossed the line…

Kael would pay the price.

Elara barely remembered leaving the king's chambers. Her mind was spinning, her pulse erratic.

She needed to warn Kael.

She turned down the corridor leading to the knights' quarters, her heart hammering in her chest. But before she could reach the doors, a strong hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the shadows.

A gasp left her lips before she saw who it was.

Kael.

His grip was firm, his blue eyes piercing as they searched hers. "What happened?"

Elara exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. "He knows."

Kael's jaw tightened. "How much?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But he suspects something. He called me to remind me that I 'belong to him.'"

A muscle in Kael's jaw twitched. "He threatened you."

Elara swallowed. "Not directly. But he will be watching. And if he finds reason to believe that I…" She trailed off, unable to finish.

Kael understood.

If the king believed there was anything more between them, Kael would be executed without hesitation.

For the first time, real fear flashed in Kael's eyes—not for himself, but for her. "Elara, you have to be careful."

She let out a bitter laugh. "When have I ever not been?"

Kael reached up, his fingers brushing against her cheek in the faintest of touches. "This is different."

Elara closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of his touch. "I don't want you to leave," she whispered. "But if he decides you're a threat, there won't be anything I can do to stop him."

Kael exhaled slowly. "I won't leave."

She opened her eyes, searching his. "Kael—"

"No." His voice was firm. "I have run from many things in my life. I will not run from you."

Her heart twisted painfully.

For so long, she had been alone in this world. Now, for the first time, someone was willing to stand beside her. But if they were caught—if the king decided Kael was a danger—he would suffer for her mistake.

She wanted to be selfish.

But she couldn't afford to be.

She forced herself to step back. "Then we must be careful," she whispered.

Kael nodded, but his gaze remained locked onto hers.

She had never truly been afraid of the king before. She had hated him, resented him, but now… Now, she knew what he was capable of.

And she knew that if she lost Kael now, she would never recover.

Days passed, and the air in the palace grew heavier.

Elara did everything she could to avoid suspicion. She acted the part of the perfect queen, keeping her distance from Kael in public. But in the shadows, they still found ways to see each other—brief moments stolen in the quiet corridors, in the flickering candlelight of the library, in the hushed whispers of midnight.

But they were not the only ones watching.

One evening, as Elara sat in her chambers, a folded note was slipped beneath her door.

Her stomach twisted as she picked it up, unfolding the parchment with trembling fingers.

"Your heart is straying. Be careful, my queen. The king is not as patient as he seems."

Elara's breath caught.

Someone knew.

She turned sharply, scanning the room, but she was alone.

A warning. A threat.

She didn't know who had sent it.

But she knew one thing.

Their time was running out.

Elara's hands trembled as she held the note. The ink was slightly smudged, as if written in haste, but the message was clear—someone knew about her and Kael.

Her mind raced through possibilities. A spy? A court official? A jealous noble seeking favor with the king?

A cold realization crept over her. Whoever had sent this note had access to her chambers, which meant they were close—perhaps closer than she dared to imagine.

She forced herself to breathe, to stay calm. If she reacted too strongly, it would only confirm the sender's suspicions.

Instead, she carefully folded the note and tucked it into the pocket of her gown. She would deal with this later. For now, she had to act as if nothing had changed.

But deep inside, she knew—this was only the beginning.