The door of the small inn creaked as it shut behind them, sealing the world out. For the first time in what felt like years, Kaelith was not a prince, he was not a future king, a political figure, or a symbol of a realm. In this quiet village tucked between rolling forests and starlit skies, he was just a man. And beside him, Hale was not a servant or protector. He was something much more intimate, someone Kaelith had chosen, over and over, even in silence.
The room was modest, lit only by a small fire in the hearth and a single candle by the bed. The air smelled of pine and faint lavender, and the window had been left ajar, allowing the cool night breeze to flutter through the sheer curtain.
Kaelith sank down onto the edge of the bed, exhaling deeply. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of responsibility lift from him in invisible layers. "It's strange," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "How something so simple as silence can feel like a blessing."
