The palace was not silent as all of the Guardians of the Moonlit Crown swore, according to Book of Oaths, verse III: "I swear my blade, my shadow, my heart. I swear on my breath, my blood, and my name. If I falter, let me be forgotten. If I betray, let me be broken."
Serenya could feel the pulse of it even at night, when the wind pressed against stone and the torches guttered low: footsteps moving past walls, whispers in hallways, secrets breathing through dark crevices. And a storm reflected the palace inside her. She was afraid her heart would shatter, but her crown had not yet. Tension had grown between them since the night she assembled her Guardians and uttered the prophecy. Kaelen had become more acute, each move a struggle against invisible dangers. Too fiercely, Lyrian watched her, as though he wanted her to trust him even in the face of fire. And Eryndor—Eryndor moved through the darkness in a silence that smothered and protected.
Sworn by oath, they belonged to her. Nevertheless, one would shatter. --- She got up before the sun came up that morning. When the first light touched the spires, the halls were cold, with mist curling through the arches. She wore a dark cloak but no crown or jewels. She would test them as Serenya—woman, ruler, and judge—rather than as queen. First was Kaelen. She discovered him in the training yard, sweat dripping down his arms despite the chilly air, his sword a blur against the straw targets. At first, he was engrossed in the rhythm of blade and breath, his movements a language of violence refined into beauty, and failed to notice her.
He bowed when he finally stopped moving. "My Queen." "Kaelen," she said, raising her voice. "Would you comply if I told you to sheath your sword as peril approached?" He scowled. "Never. Even if it meant losing your favor, I would strike. She took a step forward. "Then you are more bound to steel than to me by your oath." He did not deny that his jaw tightened. --- Next was Lyrian. She discovered him in the gardens, kneeling by a stand of storm-damaged roses, removing broken stems with soft hands. When she came close, his eyes lifted, and his hair was gilded by the sunlight.
She whispered, "You mend flowers while daggers circle the crown." He gave a small smile. "The heart needs beauty, even during storms." She took a deep breath. "What if I told you to burn the garden to ash and let the roses wither?" His face wavered. I implore you not to. However, if you persisted... He glanced down at the rose he was holding. "Then I would burn it myself." "Even if it caused you pain?" His voice was steady as he looked directly into her eyes. "Especially at that time. Because I promised you, not myself, my heart. Torn between fear and warmth, her chest constricted. Such intense devotion could either protect her or ruin her.
Last was Eryndor. She failed to locate him. He located her. He was waiting at her window, shadows hanging over him like a second cloak, when she returned to her chamber as dusk was approaching. Without saying hello, he remarked, "You test us." She stopped. "What if I am?" His mouth curled slightly. Then you are more intelligent than the council. However, my queen, tests are risky. If you push too hard, loyalty might even erode. Her tone grew piercing. "Would you comply if I asked you to divulge every secret you possess?" He cocked his head. "No." The one word cut right through her. "No?" she repeated. "I took an oath to protect you, not to tell you everything. Some secrets are better kept quiet.
She clenched her hands. "And if the dagger at my back is those secrets?" His eyes flashed, unreadable. "Then, whether or not you ever realized it was raised, I would kill the hand that is holding it." Her heart thumping, she turned away. His loyalty was genuine, but it was hidden from her. --- Days went by. She sharpened her tests. When a fight broke out close to the gates, she told Kaelen to get down, but he defied her orders and sliced through the rioters with deadly accuracy. Lyrian's voice trailed off, revealing the truth before he realized she had asked him to tell a councilor a falsehood about where she was. Eryndor merely bowed and smiled when she asked him to explain where he disappeared to at night.
They all let her down. They all went by her. Her heart began to ache. Until the storm struck one night. --- The council had convened late, debating the eastern rebellion once more. Before moonrise, Serenya threw them out, her patience exhausted. With her guardians at her heels, she withdrew to her chamber. However, something cracked as the doors closed. Kaelen's rough voice was the first to speak. "You don't believe us." At his side, Lyrian's hand grew tighter. "She treats us like adversaries rather than comrades." Eryndor's eyes darted, silent but alert. Breathing rapidly, Serenya turned to face them. And what are you asking me to do? One of you is named a traitor in the prophecy. Am I to die for blind faith? The quiet was as sharp as ice.
Then Lyrian came forward, his voice full of fire. Then allow me to demonstrate it now. Tell me anything, and I'll do it. Her heart thumped. She could put a stop to this. She could definitely put him to the test. She muttered, "Swear it." He fell to his knees. "I promise." "Then tell me what secret you keep from me," she said, her voice trembling. His gaze expanded. "Don't lie," she demanded. "Avoid making it softer. Let your oath stand or fall, and tell me what you have concealed. Kaelen's hand lingered over his sword. With his eyes as keen as a knife, Eryndor leaned forward. Lyrian lowered his head. Silence lingered for a moment. Then he said something. She was broken by the words.
She was broken by the words. Serenya, you have my undying love. Not in the role of Guardian. Not as a servant. as a man. And because my heart now beats for you rather than just for your safety, I have betrayed my oath. The room became silent. Beneath the steel, Kaelen's face darkened into unreadable rage. Eryndor's eyes flickered with shadowed satisfaction as his lips curled. And Serenya—Serenya felt her crown shatter inside of her. The oath was broken. Not with steel betrayal—but with the weight of forbidden love.