A long silence stretched between them before Kaelith finally asked, his voice low,
"And Virelle?"
Mira's lips pressed into a thin line.
"She was nearly betrothed to you… before the war with the Northern Reaches. A noblewoman from the Glass Isles. Your father arranged it—for political peace. But things changed… became more complicated."
Kaelith leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.
"Go on."
"You resisted her at first. Everyone noticed. You treated her the same way you treated most people—with cold detachment. But she… she was persistent. And she was kind—to the staff, to the guards, even to your sister. She kept trying to get close to you. And eventually, she did."
Kaelith's stomach twisted.
"So I… loved her?"
Mira hesitated, her voice faltering.
"I don't think so. You started spending more time with her, yes. But I don't believe it was love. You simply tolerated her. Others misread it. They assumed affection. Especially when you began to withdraw from your sister…."
Kaelith's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Mira took a breath, voice softer now.
"There were rumors, whispers. That you and Virelle would elope. That you were lovers in secret. Many nobles were angry when they heard you had agreed to marry Prince Caelum instead. They said you abandoned your sister to save yourself. Others believed Virelle deserved someone better—because you always gave her the cold shoulder."
She cleared her throat and looked down briefly.
"Two days before the wedding… I brought you a letter."
Kaelith turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"From Virelle?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yes. I handed it to you myself. You told me to leave… and I did. But as I walked away, I glanced back. I saw the frown on your face. You looked… disturbed, My Lord. Then, without a word, you left your chambers."
Kaelith sat still, his thoughts a storm behind his amber eyes.
Mira's voice was quiet and gentle as ever continued.
"You never returned that day. The next morning, the guards brought you back—unconscious. The healers said you had been poisoned… and your body was ice-cold. They found you on the riverbank. It's a miracle you're still alive, My Lord."
She hesitated, then continued softly,
"But… they also said your mana core was damaged. Not destroyed, but weakened. It will recover with time, but using your powers may not be easy for now."
Kaelith didn't speak.
"The King didn't seem shaken. In fact, he was… pleased."
Her voice held the faintest trace of bitterness.
"He ordered us to prepare you for the wedding. Said nothing else. Just that everything should go on as planned. And so… we did as we were told."
Kaelith's jaw tightened as he listened.
The room felt colder.
"So this body was poisoned…" he murmured, more to himself than to Mira.
"Thrown into a river. Left for dead. And no one questioned it?"
Mira lowered her gaze. "There were whispers, but no one dared speak openly. The King… he shut it all down. Fast."
Kaelith stood slowly, his legs stiff beneath him.
"And Virelle? What happened to her after that day?"
Mira hesitated.
"They said they found her unconscious, My Lord. The same night you were discovered. Some claimed you poisoned her—so the two of you could die together. Others said you were heartless, but… luckily, she survived."
She lowered her voice.
"She was interrogated afterward. Said she had no memory of what happened. Only that you fed her… and then everything went black."
Kaelith's expression darkened.
'That bitch… That's not what I saw. That's not what happened.'
The thought cut through him like a blade.
He turned toward the window, amber eyes narrowing at the distant horizon.
A faint pressure bloomed behind his eyes—a headache, slow and sharp.
No…
Not just a headache.
A memory.
Clawing.
Scratching.
Fighting its way to the surface.
His hands curled into fists by his side, breath shallow.
Just like that, flashes of that night came rushing back sharp, overwhelming. It became hard for Kaelith to breathe, to even stay calm.
His chest tightened as his vision blurred for a moment.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe slowly… deeply.
Inhale. Exhale.
After a few tense seconds, he managed to steady himself.
When he opened his eyes again, a small smile curved his lips—
Controlled. Cold.
But a smile nonetheless.
Mira shivered slightly. "My Lord… are you alright?"
Kaelith glanced at her, his expression unreadable.
"I'm fine," he said, then paused.
"Aside from you and the King… who else knows about the damage to my mana core?"
Mira hesitated.
"Only the royal healer… and the head maid. No one else, I swear."
Kaelith studied her face closely, searching for any flicker of deceit—but found none.
Still, a cold thought twisted in his gut.
'If so few people knew… then how did the assassin know exactly where to strike?'
His jaw tightened.
Someone was lying.
Or worse… someone wanted him to stay weak, or maybe it was a coincidence.
He leaned back slowly, forcing calm into his voice.
"Very well," he said.
"Then let's hope it stays that way."
"Yes, My Lord," Mira said softly, bowing her head, waiting to see if Kaelith had anything else to say.
He remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the dying flames in the hearth, then finally spoke.
"You said I never came back to my chambers that day, correct?" he asked, his voice low, thoughtful.
"Yes, My Lord," she replied, lifting her eyes slightly to meet his.
Kaelith turned to her, his expression unreadable.
"Did anyone else enter my room that day after I left?"
Mira shook her head gently.
"No one, My Lord. Only Saraj and I."
He nodded slowly, absorbing the information.
"I see… You may go. And Mira" he paused, eyes sharp, "this conversation stays between us. We'll look into what truly happened that day."
"Understood, My Lord." Mira bowed again, her tone firm with loyalty, then quietly exited the room, leaving Kaelith alone.
Kaelith sat in silence after Mira left, her words echoing in his mind.
He slowly stood up from the bed, the floor cool beneath his bare feet. Something inside him wouldn't rest not until he found that letter Mira mentioned.
He began searching.
First, his desk.
He pulled open the drawers one by one. Parchment. Old letters. Nothing recent. Nothing sealed.
Then the shelves, he ran his fingers along the books, checked between them, behind them. Still nothing.
He moved to the armoire. Opened its heavy doors. Robes and cloaks hung neatly, untouched. At the bottom, something caught his eye.
A slip of paper tucked beneath a folded tunic.
Kaelith crouched down and pulled it free. His heart skipped.
The letter.
'It seems the Gods are on my side.' he smiled.
The seal was already broken. The edges were a little damp. His name was written in delicate script on the front: Kael.
Before he could read it. A sharp knock echoed from the chamber door.
"My Lord," a guard's voice called, muffled by the thick wood. "Prince Caelum is here. He requests your presence… urgently."
Kaelith's jaw clenched.
'Damn this bastard… just when I'm about to…. ugh, of course he shows up now.'
He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, trying to calm the frustration boiling in his chest.
Slowly, he slipped the letter into the inner pocket of his robe.
Then he adjusted the front, smoothing the fabric down with practiced ease, masking the mess of thoughts in his head with a quiet, controlled motion.
Just as he took a step toward the door, it opened with a soft creak and in walked Caelum, uninvited as ever, with that same cold calm in his dying sea-storm eyes.
Dressed in deep blue robes embroidered with silver waves, his long sea-silver hair tied back, not a strand out of place.
His gaze landed immediately on Kaelith.
Sharp. Assessing.
Kaelith didn't bother hiding his annoyance.
"I don't recall inviting you in," he said, voice cool.
Caelum's lips twitched, almost into a smirk, but he didn't bite.
"I came to check if you were still breathing," he said bored.
Kaelith arched a brow. "Im touched by your concern. Truly."
Caelum ignored the sarcasm, his expression unreadable as he stepped further in.
"I was bored," he said at last, tone emotionless. "And the palace is painfully quiet without someone threatening to stab me with their eyes."
Kaelith scoffed. "So you came to irritate me into entertaining you?"
"If that works, then yes."
Kaelith folded his arms. "I should've let the assassin try harder."
Caelum's lips twitched barely.
"Careful, husband," he said, voice like still water with something dark beneath. "You're starting to sound like yourself again."
That made Kaelith pause. Just for a breath. But he masked it quickly.
"Is that a compliment?"
Caelum tilted his head. "An observation."
Silence hung in the air for a moment sharp and tense.
Kaelith exhaled slowly. "Well, now that you've confirmed. You can leave."
Instead of leaving, Caelum stepped closer.
Kaelith instinctively backed away.
That only made Caelum smirk dark, amused, and dangerous as he followed, slow and deliberate.
Kaelith took another step back, the air shifting. A strange chill curled down his spine, chased by something warmer… heavier.
'What is this bastard doing?' he asked himself, swallowing hard, too stunned to speak.
But Caelum didn't stop.
He kept closing the distance until Kaelith's back hit the wall with a soft thud.
He stiffened.
They were close—too close.
Kaelith's breath hitched as Caelum leaned in, his lips brushing dangerously close to Kaelith's, not touching… but close enough to feel the warmth of every word.
Kaelith held his breath, his entire mind on fire, frantically plotting every possible escape route.
'This fish is setting a trap. A seductive, arrogant trap.'
"Look at me," Caelum said, voice low and commanding.
Kaelith didn't move. He refused to meet his eyes.
He didn't trust what he might see or feel if he did.
Caelum, now clearly irritated, reached up and gripped Kaelith's chin, forcing him to look up.
Amber clashed with storm-gray.
"Have you forgotten," Caelum said softly, "you still owe me an answer?"
Kaelith blinked, caught off guard, his heart racing, his mind scrambling.
Answer? What answer?
His thoughts scattered, like broken glass caught in a whirlpool of confusion.
He was trapped between a wall and a prince he wasn't sure he hated anymore.
And Caelum was waiting.
Watching.
And far too close.
"Answer?" he echoed, brows furrowing. "What are you talking about?"
Caelum tilted his head slightly, his thumb brushing along Kaelith's jaw too casually.
"That little… event at the ball," he said smoothly, voice like rolling tides. "The one where you almost died?"
Kaelith stiffened.
Caelum's gaze sharpened, unblinking. "I handled it."
Kaelith swallowed, caught somewhere between gratitude and defiance.
"That was your duty, a–and I saved myself" he muttered, refusing to look away now. "You're my husband, remember?"
A low chuckle slipped from Caelum's throat, but it wasn't amused.
"True. But I didn't have to step in that fast."
He leaned in, their foreheads nearly touching.
"You seemed… frozen."
Kaelith clenched his jaw. "I wasn't."
"Hmm," Caelum hummed, clearly not convinced. "Then you're welcome."
Kaelith scowled. "I didn't say thank you."
Caelum's smirk deepened. "You didn't have to. I'm patient."
Kaelith flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
"Get out of my room," he growled.
Caelum stepped back, finally, but not before murmuring, "I'll collect my thank-you eventually, Kael. Maybe on our next near-death encounter."
With a flick of his robe and a glance over his shoulder, Caelum headed for the door.
Kaelith stood there, still pressed to the wall, trying to figure out whether he wanted to punch the prince… or scream.
Or worse blush again.
'This fish is going to kill me. Slowly. With smugness.'