The King's Guard

Chapter 29

The training grounds were quiet after sunset. Torches guttered in the damp air, their light catching in shallow puddles where the day’s drills had churned the soil.

Kael sat alone on the far edge of the fence, elbows on his knees, hands locked together. The hum of voices from the barracks didn’t reach here.

Footsteps approached. Reyna’s voice cut through the quiet. “I thought you’d be in the mess.”

“Not hungry,” Kael said without looking up.

“You’re lying. I saw you inhale two whole plates yesterday.”

“That was yesterday.”

She stopped a pace away, folding her arms. “Alright. Brooding, then. Over what? Losing the flag or something else?”

Kael didn’t answer.

“That courier…” Reyna said.

Kael finally looked at her. “You going to tell me it was just part of the job?”

“No. Because you already know that, and it’s not helping.”

His jaw shifted. “It’s different when the blade lands.”

Reyna eased herself onto the fence beside him. “You think I don’t know that feeling?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She glanced sideways. “First time I dropped a stag, I couldn’t eat venison for a year. My father thought I was being soft. My mother thought I’d come around. Neither of them realised it wasn’t the blood. It was the stillness after.”

Kael’s brow furrowed. “Stillness?”

She nodded slowly. “The way the world goes quiet. Like everything you’ve done is hanging there, waiting for you to notice it. And you do notice it, Kael. Every last detail. The weight in your hand. The smell. The moment the fight stops and you’re the only thing still moving.”

His eyes dropped to the dirt. “Stillness is worse than the fight.”

Reyna leaned forward slightly. “That’s because in the fight, you’ve got something to push against. Afterwards? There’s nothing to fight but yourself.”

Kael’s fingers tightened together. “That courier wasn’t fighting anymore. I…” He stopped. “I didn’t think I’d feel it. Not like that.”

“You feel it because you’re not hollow inside,” Reyna said, her tone softer now. “Don’t try to scrub that out. Just… learn to walk with it.”

Kael gave a short, humourless breath. “You make it sound simple.”

“It’s not. But you’ve got to make your peace with it before someone like Jared decides to twist it into something else.”

They sat there, the only sound the faint clink of the torch bracket swaying in the wind.

Reyna tilted her head. “You’re carrying it like it’s a debt.”

“Maybe it is.”

“Who to?”

Kael hesitated, then said, “Liam.”

She frowned. “Friend of yours?”

“Was.”

Reyna waited.

Kael rubbed his thumb along his knuckle, eyes on the dark beyond the fence. “We grew up together. Only friend I had, really. He was reckless. Got into trouble for me more than I deserved. Once, when we were eleven, some kid was running his mouth about me, about my family. Liam punched him so hard his nose bled. Didn’t even ask what was true or not. He just… decided I didn’t have to hear it.”

Reyna gave a small smile. “Sounds loyal.”

“He was. We’d walk through the fields after rain, cut across behind the school. He made things feel… normal. Then his parents moved. We lost touch.”

“You ever try to find him?”

Kael shook his head. “Didn’t know where to start. And years later, the Academy happened.”

Reyna shifted, her tone gentler. “You think about him a lot?”

Kael gave a short laugh with no humour in it. “More than I expected. Some days I hear something… someone laughing a certain way, and it’s like I’m back there. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” she said. “It’s remembering who you were before all this.”

“Before I learned to keep score,” Kael muttered.

Reyna studied him. “And if you had him here now?”

“I’d ask if I’m doing this right. He’d probably call me an idiot and tell me to stop thinking so much.”

“Or maybe he’d tell you you’re doing better than you think.”

Kael glanced at her. “You don’t know him.”

“I know you. Which means I can guess the kind of people you’d trust.”

Kael almost smiled, but it faded. “It doesn’t change what happened.”

“No,” Reyna agreed. “But maybe stop measuring yourself against a ghost.”

Kael huffed out a quiet breath. “You’re terrible at cheering people up.”

“I can do jokes, if that helps.”

“Go on.”

She smirked. “Alright. Two hunters walk into a tavern. First one orders stew. Second one says, ‘Make it the same, but keep the legs on.’”

Kael blinked. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Reyna admitted, “but you’re not scowling as hard now.”

Kael shook his head, a corner of his mouth twitching. “That’s low-level manipulation.”

“I’m a Shadow Corps member. It’s in the job description.”

Kael gave her a look. “Is ‘bad comedy’ also listed there?”

“Right under ‘talk people out of doing something stupid.’”

“So you think I’m about to do something stupid?”

“I think you’re carrying something heavy enough that you’ll want to set it down in the wrong place just to rest.”

He glanced at her. “You sound like the Academy’s instructors on restraint.”

“Difference is, I mean it. They just want you to keep your head down. I want you to keep your head.”

“That’s… oddly touching.”

“Don’t get used to it. I’ve got a reputation for being cold and pragmatic. If word gets out that I care, I’ll have to start buying birthday gifts.”

Kael snorted. “Can’t have that.”

Reyna tilted her head toward him. “What would Liam say to you right now?”

Kael was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “He’d probably tell me to stop thinking so much and just get on with it. Thought I said that before?”

“Exactly. I just wanted to confirm, you know… And would he be right?”

“Sometimes he was. Sometimes he got a black eye for it.”

“Then maybe the trick is knowing when you’re in which situation.”

Kael gave a small laugh. “You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple. It’s just not easy.”

Torches hissed as the drizzle picked up again.

From the path, a voice called, “You two planning to sit out here until the flag grows back?”

Kyna approached, balancing a small cloth bundle in one hand.

Reyna raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Kyna unwrapped it to reveal still-warm rolls and a wedge of hard cheese. “Peace offering or bribe, depending on how you look at it.”

Kael eyed it. “Where’d you get that?”

“Someone I know runs the night stall by the east wall. Don’t ask how I convinced them to sell early.”

Reyna took one of the rolls. “You bribed them.”

“Details,” Kyna said, handing Kael the cheese. “Eat before it’s cold. You look like you’re trying to starve yourself into enlightenment.”

Kael hesitated, then took it. “Thanks.”

Kyna settled on the fence rail opposite them. “You both were gone a while.”

“Talking,” Reyna said.

“About the kill?”

Kael’s fingers tightened briefly around the cheese. “Yeah.”

Kyna nodded. “You’re not the first. Won’t be the last. But it sticks less if you talk about it before it rots.”

“Helpful imagery,” Reyna muttered.

Kyna smirked. “You’re welcome.”

They ate in companionable silence, the rolls vanishing quickly. The drizzle softened, the torchlight haloing the mist.

Reyna dusted her hands. “We should get back before Darius thinks we’ve staged a mutiny.”

Kyna slid down from the fence. “Let him think it. Maybe he’ll keep us off the next suicide run.”

Kael stayed a moment longer, finishing the last bite of cheese. The taste wasn’t much, but it was warm, and it cut through the cold in his chest.

Reyna glanced back at him. “Coming?”

“Yeah,” Kael said, standing. “Coming.”