The King's Guard

Chapter 41

The training halls had gone silent hours ago. Kael lay on his bunk, staring at the low ceiling, unable to quiet his head. Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw faces: Reyna’s, Jared’s, Liam’s from years ago. They bled together, blurring into a weight he couldn’t name. He sat up finally, swung his legs down, and slipped his boots on. If he stayed still, he would tear himself apart. Movement at least gave him something to hold.

This was so much complicated.

The corridors of the Academy were cold at night. Oil lamps guttered low, their light pooled weakly against the stone. Kael moved without hurry, hand brushing the wall as if counting steps. He had no destination, only the restless need to walk. The stairwells carried echoes easily, so when he reached the lower levels he slowed, catching the faintest murmur of voices.

Two men spoke lowly, but one of them was unmistakable.

Kael froze. He knew Archon’s voice anywhere. The clipped rhythm, the weight under every word. The other voice was rougher, older maybe, but careful. He edged closer, keeping to the shadows. The corner ahead bent into one of the archive antechambers, rarely used at this hour. He leaned to the side just enough to listen.

“…the boy grows too quickly,” Archon was saying. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried the sort of finality Kael had only heard when orders were given. “If he isn’t checked, he’ll see too much.”

The other voice replied: “You mean Estaran.”

Kael’s chest tightened. His name really came out of Archon’s mouth. He pressed back against the wall, barely daring to breathe.

“Yes,” Archon said. “Who else? Darius hides him, shields him, but I’ve watched. The Rift stirs in him the same way it did in others. And you know what happened then.”

The other man’s voice dropped. “You speak as though you fear him.”

“I fear recklessness,” Archon answered. “I fear a repeat of blood on the stones. If he reaches too far, if he pries too deep, he could undo more than himself.”

Kael’s jaw clenched. Undo? He thought of the way the Rift had twisted air around him, of the bird that froze mid-flight. Was that what Archon meant?

The second man asked, almost cautious: “So you’ll act? The Queen trusts her commander’s instincts. The King…less so. You risk much if this gets out.”

“The King,” Archon said evenly, “is already in danger. If Kael Estaran keeps pulling at threads he doesn’t understand, he could unravel more than his own life. I won’t allow another breach. Not now. Not while the Council fractures.”

“You always did see threats in shadows,” the other muttered.

“And you always pretended shadows couldn’t cut,” Archon snapped. “We are too close to the brink. If Estaran proves himself loyal to Darius, he’s a liability. If he proves loyal to the King, he’s worse.”

Kael’s pulse hammered. Worse? Loyal to the King…worse? His head swam.

The second voice: “What you suggest: containment, or worse, it isn’t a light thing.”

Archon: “I don’t treat it lightly. But if the Rift is awakened fully in him, he must be controlled or removed.”

Kael’s breath hitched. Removed. They meant him. Not theory, not threat. Him.

The second man pressed: “Removed? Do you even hear yourself? You’d strike down one of your own cadets?”

Archon’s reply came hard, without hesitation. “If it spares Stormhaven from collapse, yes. Do not mistake me, I am not here to play guardian to reckless children. I am here to preserve order.”

“You’d make an enemy of Darius.”

“I already have,” Archon said. “Darius bends his judgment for that boy. He always has. He’ll break for him, and when he breaks, he’ll take others down with him. That is the risk I refuse.”

Silence stretched. Kael’s heartbeat roared in his ears.

Finally the other voice spoke again. “So what’s the plan? You keep watching? Waiting?”

“I don’t need to act yet,” Archon said. “But I need to be ready. If Estaran crosses the line, if he sides with the wrong power, then the choice will already be made for me.”

Kael’s mind spun. Wrong power? He thought of Reyna, of Kyna, of Jared, of Darius. Which one of them was “wrong” in Archon’s eyes?

His money was definitely on Jared, but then…

The second man shifted. “And if the boy surprises you? If he proves stronger than you think?”

“Then he’s still dangerous,” Archon said coldly. “Stronger doesn’t mean safer. It means harder to stop. That’s why the Council must know. And why you’ll carry the message.”

“You ask much,” the man muttered.

“I ask nothing,” Archon snapped. “I order.”

Bootsteps scraped. Kael flinched. For a heartbeat, he was certain they’d sensed him. He pressed harder into the stone, willing himself smaller, quieter, like when he used to hide from his father’s sharper moods.

The other man said quickly: “Walls have ears.”

“They won’t hear enough,” Archon answered. His tone had cooled again, calm as ice. “Remind them: the King’s reign lasts only as long as we permit. And if Estaran chooses to place himself in that fire, he’ll burn with it.”

The scrape of boots followed. Archon moved past the light of the chamber, cloak brushing the flagstones, head slightly bowed. The second figure lingered in the dark, face still hidden, then turned and left through another corridor. Their steps faded.

Kael stayed pressed against the wall long after they’d gone. His heart refused to slow. He replayed the words over and over. A plot against the King. Against Stormhaven itself. Archon at the center of it, speaking of control, of removal. And his own name tangled in it all.

He whispered to himself, so low he barely heard it: “Why me? What did I do?”

No answer came.

He forced his hands still, they shook too much. Slowly he backed away, retracing his steps until the corridor widened again and the lamp glow felt safer. He didn’t remember climbing the stairs. He only remembered the weight in his chest, the cold sweat at his back, and the echo of Archon’s voice.

At the dormitory door he stopped. Should he wake Reyna? Tell Darius? Talk to Kyna? His hand hovered on the handle. “No,” he whispered. “Not yet. If Archon’s plotting like this, anyone could be compromised.”

Inside, the bunks were quiet, the steady breaths of sleeping cadets filling the dark. Jared sprawled like a man without care. Reyna lay turned toward the wall, her shoulder rising and falling slow. Kyna murmured faintly in her dreams.

Kael sat on the edge of his own bunk. He pressed his palms into his eyes. He could still hear Archon’s words. Containment. Removal. Fire. Burn.

He opened his journal, though his hand shook. The page stayed blank longer than he meant. Finally he wrote a single line.

> Heard Archon. He plots against the King. Involves Council. Spoke of me.

He stared at the words. Then muttered under his breath: “If anyone finds this, I’m already finished.”

He shut the journal, slid it under his pillow, and lay back, staring into the dark. His throat felt tight. His thoughts churned. He imagined telling Reyna, hearing her steady reply. He imagined Darius’s silence, then his anger. He imagined Jared’s sharp and mocking laugh and the thought made his stomach twist.

Sleep would not come. Only the question… who could he trust now?