The King's Guard

Chapter 45

The training yard had emptied, but the squad lingered near the benches. A pale sun sat low over the Academy walls, shadows stretching like long fingers across the stone. Darius stood before them, cloak drawn close, eyes sharp as he scanned each of their faces.

“You think training ends in the yard,” Darius began. “You’re wrong. The moment you step out there…” he gestured toward the walls beyond “...you carry Veridale’s politics with you. And politics kill faster than blades.”

Jared leaned back on the bench, arms folded. “So what, we’re supposed to start bowing and smiling at nobles now?”

Darius’s gaze slid to him. “No. You’re supposed to know when a bow is survival, and when a smile is a lie.”

Reyna straightened. “With respect, Commander… that sounds like you’re saying the Corps doesn’t just serve the throne.”

Darius gave a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We serve the throne, yes. But the throne rests on families. And families… don’t always serve each other.”

Kyna tilted her head. “The ruling houses.”

“Exactly,” Darius said. “Five families, each with influence, each with reach. The Queen balances them, but balance doesn’t mean peace. Remember that.”

Kael shifted, restless. “Why tell us this now?”

“Because you’re being watched,” Darius said. “Every mission you’ve been given so far has run along their borders. Stormhaven, the passes, the trade villages. You think that’s coincidence?”

Jared gave a short laugh. “Or maybe we’re just convenient errand boys.”

“Convenient,” Darius echoed. “But not for long. House Varion already knows your name, Jared. And Kael…” He paused, gaze locking on him. “Archon has spoken your name in rooms you’ll never see.”

Kael felt the weight of the words settle like a stone in his chest.

“What do they want with me?” he asked.

“That,” Darius said softly, “is the question you’ll spend your life answering.”

Reyna frowned. “And what about you? Where do you stand in all this?”

Darius’s jaw tightened. For a moment he didn’t answer. Then: “I stand where the corps stands. Between order and ruin. That’s all you need to know.”

Jared smirked. “That’s a fancy way of saying you don’t pick sides.”

Darius’s voice hardened. “It’s the only way to stay alive.”

Kyna spoke up quietly. “Alive isn’t the same as loyal.”

His eyes flicked to her, then away. “You’ll learn the difference soon enough.”

Silence hung for a moment, broken only by the soft wind across the stones.

Reyna leaned forward, voice low but firm. “Then tell us plainly. Who’s the enemy?”

Darius’s lips pressed thin. “Sometimes the enemy wears another crest. Sometimes they wear the same. That’s Veridale.”

Kael clenched his fists. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” Darius said. “It’s a warning.”

Jared stood, brushing dust from his trousers. “So we’re supposed to nod, smile, and hope the families don’t eat us alive. Wonderful strategy.”

Reyna glared at him. “Maybe if you listened instead of mocking, you’d understand.”

“I understand perfectly,” Jared shot back, his voice rising. “Darius doesn’t trust the Council. He doesn’t trust the families. And he barely trusts us. That’s what I’m hearing.”

Kael muttered, “Maybe he has a reason.”

Jared wheeled on him. “And you’d know, Rift boy? You tell me…what happens when he decides you’re too dangerous? Think he’ll hesitate to carve your name into the plates like the rest?”

Kael’s eyes hardened. “Try me and find out.”

Reyna hissed, “Enough.”

“Enough,” Darius cut in as well. His tone dropped lower, colder, carrying more weight than Kael’s threat. “You think trust is a luxury? Out there, you’ll be lucky if you have clarity. Trust is for fools. What you need is preparation.”

Reyna folded her arms. “Preparation without trust makes us no better than mercenaries.”

Darius’s stare flicked to her. “Mercenaries survive.”

Kyna’s voice cut through, calm but edged. “Preparation doesn’t erase betrayal.”

The words landed heavy. Jared smirked, as if enjoying the crack forming in the group.

Darius turned on her, eyes narrowing. “And betrayal doesn’t excuse weakness. Do you plan to use your mother’s name every time you doubt an order, cadet?”

Kyna’s shoulders stiffened. Her jaw clenched, but her voice stayed level. “I don’t hide from my bloodline. Maybe others do.”

The implication lingered, sharp as steel.

Jared gave a mocking bow from where he leaned against the wall. “Oh, the daughter of shadows speaks. Tell us, Kyna…will the great Virell family spirit us away when things get hard?”

Her hand twitched toward her dagger. “Say it again.”

Jared leaned forward, enjoying the flare in her eyes. “Shadow girl. Traitor’s blood. Say the word, and I’ll carve it into your bunk so no one forgets.”

Kyna’s hand closed fully around the dagger hilt. “Try me.”

Kael stepped in fast, one hand raised toward her, the other blocking Jared. His voice was hard, commanding. “Stop. This isn’t the fight we’re meant to have.”

For a heartbeat, it looked as though neither would listen. Jared’s smirk didn’t falter. Kyna’s glare burned like a drawn blade.

Reyna’s voice cut across them all, sharper than before. “Both of you stand down. Now.”

The command cracked through the room like a whip.

Kyna held Jared’s gaze a second longer, then released her dagger with deliberate slowness, the scrape of steel sliding back into place filling the silence. Jared leaned back again, arms folding smugly, though the smirk had dulled.

The tension thinned, but only barely.

Darius exhaled, rubbing at his temple as if their squabble itself was proof of his point. “This is exactly why I said what I did. The families feed division. They thrive on it. You’ll either resist it, or you’ll end up like every other squad, broken from the inside.”

Kael held his gaze. “And if resisting isn’t enough?”

“Then,” Darius said quietly, “you decide which part of yourself to sacrifice.”

The squad dispersed reluctantly, but Kael lingered. Reyna remained too, arms crossed.

Kael finally asked, “What aren’t you telling us?”

Darius looked out toward the horizon, the city’s faint spires catching the sun. “That the corps is not immune. That men like Archon and Velreth don’t just fight wars… they choose them. And one day, they’ll expect you to choose too.”

Reyna’s eyes narrowed. “And if we choose wrong?”

His voice was a whisper. “Then you’ll wish you hadn’t chosen at all.”

He turned and walked away, cloak dragging over the stones.

Kael and Reyna stood in silence.

Finally, she said, “Do you believe him?”

Kael hesitated. “I don’t know. But I believe the danger’s real.”

Reyna nodded once. “Then we watch. We listen. And when the time comes, we’ll know where we stand.”

Kael glanced at her. “Together?”

Her lips curved in the faintest smile. “Together.”

That night in the barracks, the squad argued again.

Jared paced. “He’s filling our heads with paranoia. Families this, houses that, none of it matters. You follow the orders, you live.”

Kyna shot him a look. “That’s exactly what they want you to think.”

“And what about you?” Jared sneered. “You want us to believe your mother’s whispers are more reliable than command?”

“She deals in truths hidden from people like you,” Kyna snapped back.

Reyna slammed her hand against the table. “Enough! We can’t afford to fight each other.”

Jared leaned closer to Kael. “And you, you’re buying into all this, aren’t you? You think you’re special because Archon knows your name. Newsflash: he knows all of us. He’s watching. Always watching.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “Maybe. But if he is, then we should be asking why.”

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Kyna broke it. “Because the game’s already begun. And we’re pieces on the board.”

No one had an answer.

Later, Kael wrote in his journal, the candle flickering low:

> Darius: warns about Veridale families. Balance = illusion. Archon and Velreth maneuver. Reyna says together. Jared doesn’t trust anyone. Kyna insists it’s already begun.

He paused, then added another line beneath.

> If this is a game, then someone already knows how it ends.