Lord of Deception

The grand banquet hall shimmered under the glow of thousands of enchanted chandeliers, their light reflecting off polished marble floors and golden goblets brimming with wine. Laughter and murmurs of nobility wove through the air, yet amidst the spectacle, Elara felt cold.

Seated beside the Hero, her beloved, she forced a smile as nobles passed them fleeting glances—not of admiration, but of doubt.

This was different.

Before, the mere presence of the Hero had been enough to inspire unwavering faith. Yet after the latest battle, whispers of his failure spread like wildfire. The once-invincible warrior, the man destined to bring salvation, had shown weakness.

The people noticed.

She noticed.

And across the table, with a goblet of untouched wine in his grasp, Kael Ardyn noticed most of all.

He sat in the shadows, neither a noble nor a mere guest. He had carved himself into something far more dangerous—an unseen force, a whisper that lingered where it should not.

When their eyes met, a strange chill ran down her spine.

Elara told herself it was revulsion.

Yet it had never been there before.

The banquet carried on, but Elara barely touched her food. The Hero, ever the symbol of valor, was deep in discussion with the king, leaving her momentarily alone.

She should have followed him. Should have stood beside him, reinforcing his strength before the court.

Yet she didn't.

And Kael took that moment to strike.

"You seem troubled," he murmured smoothly.

Elara tensed. She had not expected him to speak so casually. "You do not have the right to speak to me so familiarly."

Kael's lips curved into the faintest smirk. "Ah, my apologies, Lady Elara. Would you prefer I speak like the rest? Worship your beloved with empty praises? Pretend I do not see what is before me?"

His words carried an edge—not outright disrespectful, yet far from subservient.

Elara narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly do you think you see?"

Kael leaned slightly forward, just enough for his voice to drop into something only she could hear. "He isn't what he used to be, is he?"

She froze.

Something in her chest clenched painfully, a sensation she quickly buried beneath cold defiance. "You know nothing."

Kael chuckled softly. "Don't I?" He tilted his head slightly, gaze studying her far too closely. "You sit beside him, yet your hands remain folded in your lap, untouched. You smile, yet your eyes betray your thoughts. Even now, you hesitate to defend him. Tell me, Lady Elara…"

His voice dipped lower.

"When was the last time he touched you?"

A sharp breath hitched in her throat.

Her body stiffened. "You—"

But she had no answer.

And Kael knew it.

He didn't press further. He didn't need to. The words had already been planted like a seed, buried deep within her mind.

Elara pushed her chair back abruptly, standing so quickly the table shook. Without another word, she turned and left, leaving behind the warm glow of the banquet hall.

Kael only watched as she departed, a slow, knowing smile curling on his lips.

That night, Elara lay in bed beside the Hero.

He was already asleep, his back turned to her. His breaths were steady, his body relaxed.

He had not noticed her absence.

She told herself it didn't matter. It shouldn't.

Yet Kael's words echoed in her mind.

"When was the last time he touched you?"

Her fingers curled into the sheets. It was ridiculous. Just a manipulation, a petty attempt to sow doubt. Kael was a liar, a schemer, a man who should have never been trusted.

And yet…

Elara's lips parted slightly as she glanced at the Hero beside her. His presence, once reassuring, now felt distant.

Had she always felt this way?

Her gaze drifted downward, to her own hands resting against her stomach. A quiet frustration stirred within her chest—something unspoken, something she refused to acknowledge.

Then, a treacherous thought slipped into her mind.

What if the Hero turned to her now? What if he held her, whispered her name the way he once did? Would she still feel empty?

The thought horrified her.

And worse—it thrilled her.

Heat bloomed across her skin, unbidden and unwelcome.

She turned onto her side, gripping the blankets tighter as though that would banish the images creeping into her thoughts.

Yet, for the first time, it was not her beloved she imagined beside her.

It was Kael.

The smirk that played on his lips when he spoke. The smooth, unshaken confidence in his voice. The way his gaze seemed to see through her.

Elara squeezed her eyes shut, mortified. This was wrong.

Yet her body betrayed her.

A deep ache stirred within her, one she had ignored for far too long.

Kael's words had been poison.

And poison… once taken, does not simply disappear.

Elara did not sleep that night.

She remained in bed beside the Hero, staring at the ceiling, her mind tainted with thoughts she could not erase.

And Kael…

Kael knew.

He had not broken her. Not yet.

But he had done something far more dangerous.

He had made her question.

And a question, once planted, would never stop growing.

To be continued...