The shift was immediate.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But undeniable.
By midday, the palace had split.
Not officially.
Not openly.
But in glances.
In distance.
In silence.
Aarav noticed it first in the training courtyard.
Conversations stopped when he walked in.
Servants bowed—but avoided eye contact.
Even some guards hesitated for half a second too long.
"…There it is," Aarav muttered.
Kaelith, standing beside him, followed his gaze. "They are reacting."
"They're choosing sides," Aarav corrected.
Kaelith didn't deny it.
Later, in the council corridor—
Two nobles passed by.
"They're really going through with it?"
"He chose the Alpha in front of everyone…"
"That outsider will bring war—"
Aarav stopped walking.
Not because he was offended.
Because he was thinking.
Kaelith's aura shifted slightly—sharp, protective.
Aarav raised a hand.
"Don't."
"They speak against you," Kaelith said.
"They're afraid," Aarav replied. "There's a difference."
Kaelith's voice lowered. "Fear can still cause damage."
Aarav met his gaze. "So can overreacting."
A pause.
Then Kaelith exhaled slightly. "…You're right."
Aarav smirked faintly. "I usually am."
But the isolation didn't stop.
If anything—
It tightened.
By evening, Liora arrived with a report.
"They're moving politically now," she said, placing documents on the table. "Several council members are pushing for restrictions."
"On me?" Aarav asked.
"Yes," she said. "Limited access to inner court. Reduced authority. Increased surveillance."
Aarav leaned back. "So house arrest, politely phrased."
Kaelith's expression hardened. "Denied."
"It won't be that simple," Liora said. "They're framing it as protection for the kingdom."
Aarav laughed quietly. "Classic."
He stood, walking slowly toward the window.
"They can't attack me directly anymore," he said. "So they're trying to isolate me."
Kaelith stepped closer. "I will not allow it."
Aarav turned.
"That's exactly what they want."
Kaelith frowned. "Explain."
"If you block them openly," Aarav said, "you prove their point—that I'm influencing your decisions."
Silence.
Aarav's voice softened slightly. "This isn't just about power anymore. It's about perception."
Kaelith studied him.
"…Then what do we do?"
Aarav's eyes sharpened.
"We play smarter."
That night, the palace felt colder.
Not physically.
But emotionally.
Aarav stood alone on the balcony.
No guards nearby.
No attendants.
Just silence.
For the first time since arriving in this world—
He looked… still.
Not alert.
Not calculating.
Just quiet.
"You're isolating yourself."
Kaelith's voice came from behind him.
Aarav didn't turn. "No. I'm giving them what they expect."
"That is not the same thing."
Aarav exhaled slowly. "It is right now."
Kaelith stepped closer. "You have not eaten."
"I'm not hungry."
"You are injured."
"I'm healing."
"You are being targeted."
Aarav turned then.
"And I'm handling it."
The words came sharper than intended.
Silence followed.
Kaelith didn't react with anger.
He stepped closer instead.
"That is not what concerns me."
Aarav frowned slightly. "Then what does?"
Kaelith's voice lowered.
"You are carrying this alone."
Aarav blinked.
Just once.
Then he looked away.
"I've always handled things alone," he said.
"That does not mean you should."
Aarav let out a quiet breath.
"This isn't new for me," he said. "Pressure, expectations, people watching, judging—it's just… bigger now."
Kaelith's gaze didn't soften.
It deepened.
"And the cost is higher."
Aarav didn't answer.
For a moment—
Neither spoke.
Then Kaelith did something unexpected.
He stepped forward—
And pulled Aarav into a quiet, steady embrace.
Not forceful.
Not sudden.
Just… there.
Aarav stiffened instantly.
Not resisting.
Just not used to it.
"You don't have to do this alone," Kaelith said quietly.
Aarav's hands hovered for a second—
Then slowly, hesitantly—
He let them rest against Kaelith's back.
"…I don't know how not to," he admitted.
The words were quiet.
Unpolished.
Real.
Kaelith's hold tightened slightly—not trapping, just grounding.
"Then learn," he said. "With me."
Aarav exhaled slowly.
The tension in his shoulders didn't disappear—
But it shifted.
Less weight.
More shared.
After a moment, Aarav pulled back slightly.
"…This doesn't fix the political situation," he said.
Kaelith's lips curved faintly. "No. But it fixes something else."
Aarav looked at him.
"…Yeah," he said quietly.
The night stretched on.
The palace remained divided.
The threat remained active.
But something had changed again.
Not just strategy.
Not just trust.
But vulnerability—
Finally acknowledged.