Beneath the Silver Tree

The next morning, Elara moved through the palace with measured grace, but her mind remained on the warning. She avoided Kael, unwilling to risk drawing further attention.

Instead, she attended court as usual, sitting beside the king as nobles presented their grievances and requests. King Aldred listened with his usual disinterest, lazily swirling his goblet of wine.

But Elara felt his eyes on her more than once.

Was he watching her more closely now? Did he suspect her already?

She dared not look at Kael, who stood among the knights at the edge of the chamber. She could feel his presence—solid, unwavering—but she didn't risk acknowledging it.

Then, near the end of the court session, something unexpected happened.

A man stepped forward—an unfamiliar noble with dark eyes and a sharp, foxlike smile. He bowed deeply before the king.

"Your Majesty," he began smoothly. "I have come with troubling news."

Elara's pulse quickened.

The king raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

The nobleman hesitated, then cast a glance toward Elara. "I would prefer to speak in private, Your Majesty."

A murmur rippled through the court.

Elara's fingers dug into the armrest of her chair. She didn't recognize this man, but every instinct in her body screamed that he was dangerous.

The king studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Court is dismissed."

Elara stood with the rest of the nobles, her heart hammering. As she turned to leave, she caught Kael's eye for the briefest moment.

Something wasn't right.

And she feared she was about to find out what.

That night, the castle felt different. The corridors were quieter, the shadows deeper.

Elara couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

She had barely spoken since court was dismissed, but she had overheard enough whispers to know that the nobleman's warning had unsettled the king.

She needed to know what was said.

She couldn't ask the king directly, but there was someone who might have answers.

Making her way carefully through the palace, she reached the training grounds where Kael and the knights usually trained. The area was empty at this hour—except for him.

Kael stood near the barracks, sharpening his sword under the flickering torchlight. His presence alone steadied her, even as uncertainty churned in her chest.

She approached cautiously. "Kael."

He turned instantly, his expression shifting from tension to quiet concern. "Elara."

She wasted no time. "The nobleman who spoke to the king today—do you know who he is?"

Kael exhaled, sheathing his sword. "Lord Rhenor," he said grimly. "A cunning bastard. He has served the king for years, but his true loyalty is to whoever benefits him most."

Elara's stomach twisted. "Then he's dangerous."

Kael nodded. "Very."

She hesitated before whispering, "Do you think he knows?"

Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I don't know what he told the king, but I do know this—tonight, the castle has more guards than usual. And they aren't patrolling the outer gates."

Elara's blood ran cold.

"They're watching the halls," Kael murmured. "They're watching you."

Panic threatened to rise, but she forced herself to stay calm.

"Then what do we do?" she whispered.

Kael's jaw clenched. "We wait."

She shook her head. "If they already suspect something, waiting will only make it worse."

Kael hesitated, then his eyes darkened with resolve. "Then we need to find out exactly what was said."

Elara's breath caught. "You mean—"

He nodded. "I'll go. I have ways of getting into the king's chambers unnoticed."

Fear struck her. "Kael, if you're caught—"

"I won't be." His voice was steady.

But she wasn't convinced.

For years, she had been alone in this game of survival. Now, Kael was willingly stepping into the fire for her.

And she was terrified he wouldn't make it out.

Kael moved through the shadows with the ease of a man who had spent years evading death. The corridors were lined with guards, but he knew the castle's secret paths—the hidden corridors built into the stone walls, the servants' passages that nobles never noticed.

Reaching the king's study, he pressed himself against the door, listening.

Two voices.

The king's, low and contemplative.

And Lord Rhenor's.

"…She has grown restless," Rhenor was saying. "She may not have acted yet, but she will. It is only a matter of time."

Kael's hands curled into fists.

The king hummed. "And what of the knight?"

Kael held his breath.

"A loyal dog, for now," Rhenor said smoothly. "But men like him do not serve without reason. If you were to remove him—"

Elara.

That was what Rhenor wanted. He wanted Kael gone so Elara would be vulnerable.

Kael didn't wait to hear more. He turned and slipped back into the shadows, moving quickly.

Elara needed to know.

And they needed to act—before it was too late.

Elara paced her chambers, the warning note still clenched in her fist.

Then the door opened, and Kael slipped inside.

She gasped. "Did you find out—"

"Yes," he cut in, his expression grim. "We don't have time. The king doesn't fully believe Rhenor yet, but that will change. He will test you, Elara. And if he finds even a sliver of doubt, he will destroy us both."

Her breath caught.

Kael stepped closer, his voice urgent. "We have to leave."

Elara's heart pounded. "Leave?"

Kael grasped her hands. "Run. Tonight."

She stared at him, torn between fear and longing. "If we leave, we can never return."

Kael's expression softened. "Would you miss this place?"

A bitter laugh escaped her. "No."

"Then come with me." His voice was raw, filled with quiet desperation. "Let me take you away from here."

Tears burned her eyes.

For years, she had been trapped.

For years, she had convinced herself that there was no escape.

But now, here was Kael, offering her freedom.

All she had to do was take his hand.

Her decision would change everything.

And the night was quickly running out.

The room was silent except for the sound of Elara's unsteady breathing. Kael's words hung in the air like an unspoken promise—like a temptation she had never dared to dream of.

Run.

For years, she had been a prisoner in her own home, bound by duty, by the crown, by the silent, suffocating rules that dictated her life. The weight of the king's possessive gaze, the knowledge that he would destroy anything that threatened his control—it had been her reality for so long that she had stopped believing in escape.

But Kael was here. And he was offering her a choice.

Freedom.

But at what cost?

She swallowed, her throat dry. "Kael… if we run, he will hunt us."

Kael's jaw tightened. "I know."

Her hands curled into fists. "He won't stop. He'll send his best men after us. If we're caught, he won't just kill you—he'll make you suffer."

Kael exhaled, stepping closer. "Elara." His voice was softer now, his hands gently reaching for hers. When their fingers touched, she shivered. "You know what will happen if we stay."

She did.

King Aldred would not kill her—not yet, at least. A queen was valuable. But Kael?

The moment the king was convinced of her betrayal, Kael would be the first to pay the price.

Her heart ached. She had already lost so much. She couldn't lose him too.

Elara took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. "How?" she whispered.

Kael's eyes flickered with determination. "The northern gate. There's a change in the guards at midnight. We'll have a few minutes before the next shift arrives."

Elara hesitated, but she could already feel her heart pulling toward him. Toward the only person who had ever made her feel safe.

She met his gaze. "We leave tonight."

Kael nodded once. "I'll be waiting."

And just like that, the decision was made.

Elara was going to run.