"Why come back?" Kael's voice was quiet, steady — too steady. The kind of calm that came from habit, not peace. His gaze locked on her like a drawn blade, and for a heartbeat, Zelene almost forgot how to breathe.
"You shouldn't be here," he said again, lower this time.
"Not here," she murmured, glancing toward the shadows near the door. "I have to tell you something."
Something flickered behind his eyes — a storm barely contained — but he only gave a short nod.
"Follow me."
He crossed the hall in soundless strides, retrieving his sword before the echo had even faded. Zelene followed, her pulse quick and uneven. The corridors of Dravenhart twisted before them — familiar, merciless. The torches along the walls hissed in the damp air, throwing gold light across the black stone.
They stopped before a heavy oak door at the end of a narrow corridor. Kael pushed it open, ushered her inside, and locked it behind them.
His quarters.
The same four walls she remembered — stone, cold, disciplined. The scent of steel and parchment filled the air. A small fire burned low in the hearth, its glow casting him in restless amber light. But the man standing there… he felt different. Sharper. Lonelier.
Zelene stood near the table, her cloak dripping onto the floor. The silence pressed between them like another presence.
Kael leaned his sword against the wall and turned toward her. "Speak."
"The Crown Prince," she began quietly, her voice trembling despite herself. "He killed them, Kael. My family. Every last one."
For a heartbeat, he didn't move. His eyes flicked toward her — sharp, searching — then settled back into that unnerving stillness.
"I heard rumors," he said at last, tone clipped. "But not that."
"He might move against you next," Zelene said. "Or he was. But it's been quiet lately. Too quiet."
Kael's brow furrowed slightly. He paced once, slow, deliberate, the sound of his boots echoing off stone.
Zelene watched him, her hands curling against the edge of the table. Weeks had passed since her family was murdered. Every night since, she'd prayed she wasn't too late — that Kael, at least, would still be standing. Seeing him alive should have brought her relief. Instead, all she felt was the cold weight of dread sinking deeper.
"That's why I came," she whispered. "To warn you."
Kael stopped pacing, his shadow stretching long in the firelight. "You risked crossing the border, breaking every treaty that keeps your head off a pike— just to warn me?" His voice was measured, but beneath it was something raw, almost incredulous.
Zelene met his gaze, steady now. "I didn't come here to die, Kael. I came because I have a plan."
He studied her for a long moment, expression unreadable. "A plan," he repeated, quiet. "What kind of plan?"
"I'm going to seek the Auryns."
The name hit the air like a spark.
Kael's expression froze; something flickered behind his eyes — calculation, disbelief, maybe both. "The legend?" he said finally. "That old tale scholars tell when they run out of sense?"
"It's not a tale," she said firmly.
Kael's gaze sharpened. He took a slow step closer, as if closing distance would make her words more believable.
"You're telling me," he said, his voice low, "that after vanishing for weeks, you sneak into Dravenhart in the middle of a storm, tell me the Prince is behind your family's massacre — and now you're chasing myths?"
Zelene didn't flinch. "They're not myths. They're power — and I think they are the key to reveal why my family was killed."
The words hung in the still air. Kael's jaw tensed. He said nothing, only looked at her for a long, suffocating moment.
Then, finally, he turned away.
He braced a hand on the edge of his desk, head bowed slightly, eyes fixed on the maps scattered before him. "The Crown Prince isn't clever enough to orchestrate something like this," he said quietly. "He's a brute, not a strategist. If your family was targeted… there's more behind it."
The fire crackled softly.
Zelene watched him, saw the calculation in his eyes — not coldness, exactly, but the kind of relentless thought that had made him dangerous even before the war.
He was remembering.
Alaric's voice. The night he'd spoken to him — quiet, steady, protective. Keep her safe, Kael. Whatever happens, promise me that.
And the strange request that followed: the proposal to unite their houses. At the time, Kael had thought it political maneuvering. But now… now it felt like foresight. Like Alaric had known what was coming.
Kael exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to focus. "And what do you expect to find with these Auryns? Revenge?"
Zelene's voice softened. "Answers."
He studied her again — the same defiance in her eyes, the same light he'd once thought impossible to extinguish. "You always did have a dangerous kind of hope," he murmured.
"Maybe you just lost yours," she replied quietly.
That earned the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth — not quite a smile, but close enough to hurt.
He turned away, running a hand through his damp hair. "If what you're saying is true, you shouldn't be here. Dravenhart isn't safe. Every spy in this fortress is trained to notice what doesn't belong — and you never did belong anywhere quietly."
Zelene's gaze lifted. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
Kael looked at her — really looked. For a heartbeat, the silence between them stretched taut, filled with every unsaid word.
Finally, he drew in a long breath. "There's an old guardroom near the eastern tower," he said. "Darius can take you there. You'll stay out of sight until I find out who's pulling the strings behind this."
Zelene nodded, relief threading through her chest, though it felt hollow.
She turned to leave — but Kael's hand caught her wrist.
Just lightly. Just enough to stop her.
His voice dropped to a murmur, almost a warning.
"Next time you say my name like that," he said, "make sure I'm not holding a sword."
Zelene's breath hitched. "Then stop pointing it at me."
The faintest smirk ghosted across his face — gone as quickly as it came.
For a single fragile moment, the war, the storm, the ghosts between them — all of it — went still.
Then Kael's hand fell away.
"Go," he said softly, eyes still on her. "Before someone sees you."
And Zelene — heart pounding, drenched and aching — obeyed.