The King's Guard

Chapter 46

The library at the Academy was quiet enough to hear the scratch of Kael’s boots across the stone floor. Lanterns swung lightly, their flames casting stretched shadows along the high shelves.

He hadn’t meant to be here after hours, but the weight of restless thoughts left him wandering. Archon’s voice, Darius’s warnings, Reyna’s steady insistence: it all churned like stormwater.

Kael let his fingers skim spines. Most books here were training manuals, tactical records, or dry histories of battles past. Nothing new or useful…until he saw it.

A leather volume tucked behind a row of old treatises. The spine was cracked, the edges darkened with age. There was no title on the cover.

He pulled it free, and dust scattered into the air.

A whisper of movement came from the far aisle.

Kael froze.

“Reyna?”

No answer. Just the silence of the stacks.

He sat at the corner desk, opened the book, and frowned. The script was older than the common tongue. The ink was faded, but legible if he took his time.

The heading read:

The First Blades: The Founding of the Shadow Corps

Kael muttered aloud with a low voice. “This isn’t supposed to be here.”

A voice answered behind him. “That depends on who’s asking.”

Kael turned sharply. Kyna stood half in shadow, arms crossed, lips curved faintly.

“You follow me now?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I saw you leave the barracks. Thought you might stumble into something interesting. Seems I was right.”

Kael gestured at the book. “Do you know about this?”

Her eyes flicked to it. “No. But I know most records of the Corps’ beginning were sealed decades ago. So if you’ve found one…”

“It means it wasn’t sealed properly,” Kael finished.

Kyna sat across from him, leaning on her elbows. “Read.”

Kael scanned the next lines, translating as he went. “‘The Shadow Corps was not forged as defenders, but as wardens. Bound to the throne, yes, but sworn first to the architects: the families who shaped Veridale’s law.’”

Reyna’s voice cut in quietly from the doorway. “Wardens? Of what?”

Both Kael and Kyna glanced up, surprised. Reyna stepped into the light, gaze fixed on the book.

“You two think you’re subtle,” she said. “You’re not.”

Kael slid the book so she could see. “It says the Corps began not to protect the people, but to enforce the families’ will.”

Reyna frowned. “That’s not what we’re taught.”

Kyna gave a small laugh. “Of course it isn’t. You think they’d tell cadets they’re pawns for nobles?”

Kael flipped a page. His eyes caught on a passage marked by a faint underline. He read aloud:

“‘The Rift-born were the first to be gathered. Feared, weaponised, controlled. They were told they served the crown. But their power was a leash held by other hands.’”

The words lingered.

Reyna whispered, “Rift-born… like you.”

Kael swallowed hard. “So this is why Archon watches me.”

Kyna tapped the page. “It means you’re not a soldier to them, Kael. You’re an inheritance. A tool.”

He closed the book halfway, uneasy. “Then why hide this here? Why leave it where someone could find it?”

Reyna’s tone sharpened. “Maybe it wasn’t left. Maybe it was forgotten.”

Kael’s hand lingered on the leather cover. “Or maybe someone wanted it found.”

The silence between them stretched.

Reyna finally asked, “What do we do with it?”

Kyna leaned back. “Depends. If we tell Darius, he’ll bury it. If we tell Archon, he’ll burn it. If we keep it…”

Kael finished for her. “Then we’re holding something dangerous. You're very much aware of that.”

Reyna crossed her arms. “And you already know what I’ll say.”

Kael nodded. “That we can’t ignore it. Right?”

Her eyes softened. “Yes. Because truth matters. Even if it’s buried under dust.”

Kyna raised an eyebrow. “Truth matters less than survival. You share that book with the wrong person, and you’ll have neither.”

Kael opened the book again, slower this time. Another passage caught his eye, faint but clear.

“‘The Corps’ true oath is not written in stone or creed. It is written in shadow. To bind the Rift-born. To ensure none rise beyond the leash.’”

Reyna muttered, “That’s not training. That’s chains.”

Kael’s voice was flat. “Oh oh… And I’m one of them.”

Kyna’s tone was quiet now. “Then you see why I follow you here. I knew there was more than what they teach.”

He looked at them both. “If this is true, then the Corps was never meant to serve the King at all. Just the families.”

Reyna’s eyes narrowed. “That would mean…”

“That would mean,” Kyna said, finishing for her, “we’ve been fighting the wrong war.”

Footsteps echoed faintly in the hall.

The three of them froze.

Kael shut the book fast, sliding it under his cloak.

A lantern glow swept past the shelves. Voices carried.

“…leave no trace. Archon will know if it’s been touched.”

Kael stiffened.

Kyna mouthed silently: Hide.

They ducked behind the row of shelves, pressed between shadow and stone. Two figures entered the library clothed with robes, and their hoods low. One carried a scroll, the other a lantern.

The taller one muttered, “The journal should be here.”

Kael’s heart hammered. The journal pressed cold against his ribs.

Reyna leaned close, her whisper just a breath. “They know exactly what they’re after.”

The shorter figure replied, “Then someone’s moved it. Archon said this wing was secure.”

The lantern swung closer. Reyna’s hand brushed Kael’s, steadying him, urging stillness.

Kael whispered, barely moving his lips, “If they find us…”

“Quiet,” Reyna hissed softly.

The taller figure stopped, scanned the desk, then cursed. “Dust disturbed. Someone’s here.”

Kyna’s fingers tightened around her dagger. “We can’t let them see us,” she breathed.

Reyna caught her wrist, holding it down. “And stabbing them will only prove we’re here.”

Kyna’s eyes flashed. “You’d rather wait to be caught?”

Kael shook his head, whispering sharply, “Both of you…stop. One sound and we’re finished.”

The footsteps began sweeping the aisles slowly and deliberately.

Kael’s breath grew shallow. He leaned toward Reyna again, murmuring so low she could barely hear: “We can’t stay hidden long. Shadows don’t last.”

Reyna gave the faintest nod. “Then hold still a little longer.”

The taller voice muttered, “If it’s gone… Archon will not forgive.”

The shorter answered, “Then perhaps we should be forgiven first. If we find who touched it…”

Kyna’s jaw clenched. “They’ll report us,” she whispered.

Reyna’s grip tightened. “Not if they leave none the wiser.”

Kael swallowed, the journal burning against his chest like fire. “If they come down this row, I’ll draw them off.”

Reyna’s head snapped toward him. “Are you insane? You’ll be dragged before Archon before dawn.”

“Better me than all of us,” Kael murmured.

Kyna shook her head fiercely. “No. If one goes down, we all do.”

The lantern swept past their row. A shadow stretched, paused. The taller figure exhaled sharply, and then moved on.

The three of them didn’t breathe until the door finally closed with a heavy echo.

They exhaled at once, like air flooding back into their lungs.

Kael pulled the book out, placed it carefully on the table. His voice was hushed, tight. “They were looking for it.”

Reyna whispered, “Which means someone else knows it’s here. Someone close.”

Kyna added, her voice low and sharp, “And they’ll come back. Next time, with more than two.”

Kael stared at the cracked spine. The words inside felt heavier than any blade.

He said softly, “Then we decide tonight whether we burn this… or keep it.”

Reyna met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “We keep it. Even if it costs us.”

Kyna leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “And when Archon finds out?”

Kael shut the book firmly. “Then he’ll know we’re not as blind as he thinks.”

That night, back in the barracks, Kael couldn’t sleep. The words burned through his thoughts. Wardens. Rift-born. Leash.

He turned, saw Reyna awake too, watching the ceiling.

“You’re thinking about it,” he whispered.

She turned her head. “So are you.”

He hesitated. “If the Corps isn’t what we thought… do you still trust it?”

Reyna’s silence stretched long. Then, quietly: “I trust you.”

Her words sat heavier than the book.

Kael didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Outside their walls, Archon already knew something was missing…