The King's Guard

Chapter 33

The hall filled with the low murmur of voices, cadets lining the benches, instructors scattered along the edges. At the far end, Archon stood beneath the hanging banners, his hands resting on the rail of the dais. The squad filed in together, the scrolls Reyna had handed to Darius earlier now spread across the polished table before the Archon.

“Step forward,” Archon said. His voice carried without effort.

Reyna led, the others a step behind. Kael kept his eyes level, not glancing toward Jared even though he felt the faint curl of smugness radiating from him.

Archon lifted one of the scrolls. “House Varion’s records. Precise. Timely. Unexpected. You’ve done well.”

The room stirred. Praise was not given lightly.

Reyna inclined her head. “It was a team effort.”

Archon’s eyes shifted, settling on Jared. “And it was you who guided them to the right halls?”

Jared stepped forward just enough, his tone smooth. “I knew the estate’s layout, sir. It seemed natural to use that knowledge.”

A faint smile crossed the Archon’s face. “Initiative. Resourcefulness. Qualities we expect from those of noble blood.”

Kael’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Archon set the scroll down, gaze sweeping the group. “The Shadow Corps thrives on results. This squad has shown it can deliver them. Continue in this fashion, and your place here is secure.”

Applause rose from the benches: measured, never exuberant, but still recognition. Jared basked in it, posture straight, chin lifted. Reyna accepted it coolly. Kyna remained quiet, eyes lowered. Kael stayed still, the sound brushing over him like rain he didn’t want to feel.

When it faded, Archon dismissed them. “Rest. Train. Prepare for the next trial. Darius, a word later.”

The squad filed out. Jared leaned close to Kael as they reached the doors. “Not bad, hm? Even you looked respectable when the Archon said his piece.”

Kael didn’t look at him. “You enjoyed that.”

“Of course,” Jared said easily. “What’s the point of achievement if no one applauds?”

Reyna cut in sharply. “What’s the point if you twist it for yourself?”

Jared smiled faintly. “Perspective, Reyna. You should try it.”

They walked back toward the barracks, tension tugging at each stride.

Kyna finally broke the silence. “It doesn’t matter what was said in the hall. What matters is what was found.”

Jared turned to her. “And what was found? Dusty maps? Old ledgers? Routine schedules?”

Kael stopped walking. “You know that’s not what it was.”

Jared tilted his head, eyes glinting. “Then perhaps you can explain it better than I can.”

Kael’s voice stayed flat. “Later.”

They reached the barracks without another word.

Hours later, Kael knocked on Darius’s door. The commander looked up from the small desk, one hand resting on a half-finished report.

“You waited until now,” Darius said.

Kael stepped in. “Because this isn’t for the squad.”

Darius gestured to the chair. “Sit. Speak.”

Kael sat, drawing a piece of parchment from his sleeve. With slow, deliberate strokes, he began to sketch. Lines for rivers, crosses for garrisons, red arrows marking movement. His hand moved steadily, the image from the hidden study still clear in his mind.

Darius leaned forward, eyes narrowing as the map took shape. “Stormhaven positions. Supply routes. Forward camps.”

Kael kept drawing. “And this…” he marked a series of circles near the border “...timed deployments. Weeks at most.”

Darius’s face hardened. “You memorised all this?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Jared wanted it left behind. Because he said it was routine.”

Darius leaned back slowly, silence stretching between them. His fingers tapped the table once, then stilled.

“You did well not to trust him,” he said finally.

Kael’s gaze flicked up. “So I was right?”

“You were cautious,” Darius corrected. “And caution is survival.”

Kael exhaled. “Then why praise him in front of everyone?”

“Because politics feed on appearance,” Darius said. “The Archon sees a Varion stepping forward, he applauds. That’s how houses maintain influence. But underneath…” His eyes returned to the sketch. “Underneath, this is what matters.”

Kael hesitated. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Keep it here.” Darius tapped his temple. “Nowhere else. No journal. No whispers. If you carry it, you carry it in silence.”

Kael nodded slowly. “And if they ask why I remember?”

“Then you tell them nothing.”

Silence again. Kael’s hand lingered near the map he’d drawn, reluctant to slide it across.

Darius finally spoke, his tone lower, sharper. “But remember this, Kael. You’ve drawn light to yourself. And light doesn’t only show the truth. It attracts insects.”

Kael’s brow furrowed. “Insects?”

Darius held his gaze. “Ambition. Envy. Those who thrive in shadows will see you as something to circle, to test, to consume. That’s the cost of seeing too much.”

Kael looked down at the map. “So I keep quiet.”

“You keep breathing,” Darius said. “Quietly. That’s enough.”

Kael folded the parchment once, twice, then set it into the fire at the corner of the room. Flames caught quickly, curling the edges, blackening the lines. He watched until only ash remained.

When he looked up, Darius hadn’t moved.

“You did well,” the commander repeated, softer this time. “But don’t mistake silence for safety. You like light has attracted insects to yourself.”

Kael didn’t reply. The words clung tighter than the smoke in the room.