The King's Guard

Chapter 47

The chamber was lit by a single lantern. Its glow flickered against the vaulted stone, catching on the sigils carved into the wall: Varion emblems that looked sharp-edged and cold. Jared leaned on the doorframe, arms folded, his usual smirk missing.

“You sent for me again,” he said. His voice was flat, not mocking. “I thought we agreed last time you’d let me breathe.”

Lord Eryndor sat at the long oak table, ink and parchment spread out before him. He didn’t look up at first, dipping his quill with precise movement. “Agreements are for equals,” he replied. “You’re not in that position.”

Jared scoffed, but it didn’t sound strong. “Then say what you need to say.”

Eryndor set the quill down and finally raised his gaze. His eyes were iron-grey, unreadable, the kind that weighed and measured. “You’ve had weeks. And still, Estaran thrives.”

Jared pushed off the doorframe, pacing. “He thrives because you want me to bury him with scraps and whispers while I’m supposed to be training at the Academy. It’s not exactly simple.”

“You’re making excuses.”

“I’m making sense,” Jared snapped. Then he caught himself, straightening. “He’s not just some recruit I can undermine with one word. The others watch him. Reyna watches him. Even Darius tolerates him. If I move wrong, it blows back on me.”

Eryndor’s tone sharpened. “Then move right.”

Jared dragged a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t see it? Every time he opens his mouth, they lean closer. Every time he steps into a fight, they wait to follow. I know exactly how dangerous he is. But danger doesn’t mean I can just pull him down and no one notices.”

“That’s what I trained you for,” Eryndor said. “To pull strings without being seen.”

Jared barked a laugh. “Trained me? You mean you beat it into me. You think every bruise made me sharper. You think every lecture about Varion bloodline made me stronger. Maybe it just made me better at pretending.”

Eryndor rose from the chair, slow, deliberate. “You pretend well enough. But not well enough to fool me. You envy him. That’s your weakness.”

Jared’s jaw clenched. “I don’t envy him.”

“You do,” Eryndor pressed. He stepped closer, shadows bending around him. “You envy the way people trust him. You envy how he walks into a room and doesn’t have to demand attention, it comes to him. And you despise that no matter what you do, you’re still seen as the Varion son first. The father’s shadow, not the heir.”

“Shut up,” Jared muttered.

But Eryndor didn’t stop. “Kael Estaran is the threat because he embodies what you never could. Quiet strength. Integrity. Restraint. They are drawn to it. You’re drawn to it, even as you spit on his name.”

Jared’s voice broke, sharp and low. “I said shut up.”

Eryndor tilted his head, studying him like a hawk. “Why does it sting so much, then? If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be pacing like a caged dog. You wouldn’t be biting down on your tongue every time his name comes up.”

Jared spun, pointing a finger at him. “You don’t know what it’s like, standing beside him day after day. Every glance, every nod like I’m the second thought, the shadow in the corner while he gets to be the light. I bleed for this house and no one notices, but he shows up and they look at him as if he belongs.”

Eryndor’s tone was calm and cutting. “And he doesn’t. That’s the point. He doesn’t belong. That’s why you must remind them.”

Jared’s hand dropped, shaking slightly. “You make it sound easy. Like I can just twist him apart with a word. But if I push too far, they’ll see it’s me. Reyna already thinks I’m the bastard in the room. Kael looks at me like I’m an annoyance he’ll swat away one day. How long before one of them turns suspicion back on me?”

Eryndor leaned forward, voice dropping to a near whisper. “That’s where finesse matters. Don’t strike him head-on. Fray him at the edges. Let the cracks spread until he breaks himself. All you need is patience.”

Jared shook his head. “Patience? You ask for patience, but you want results yesterday. You want me to gut him in silence and smile while I do it.”

“You’re capable,” Eryndor said simply. “You’re Varion.”

Jared laughed bitterly. “You think that word makes me invincible. You think carrying your name makes me untouchable. It doesn’t, it makes me hated. Every time I walk into that hall, I can feel it. They’re waiting for me to fail, to prove I’m nothing more than the spoiled Varion boy who thinks power is owed.”

“Then give them a different story,” Eryndor hissed. “Write it in Estaran’s blood. Make him the reckless one. Make him the boy who couldn’t control the Rift. Let them whisper about his weakness instead of yours.”

Jared stared at him, the lanternlight catching the strain in his eyes. “And if I don’t?”

Eryndor’s answer came without hesitation. “Then you’ll fail me again.”

Jared laughed bitterly. “Everything’s failure with you. When I was six, you said I failed because I couldn’t lift the blade high enough. When I was ten, I failed because I hesitated to cut into the target dummy. When I was fifteen, I failed because I lost a spar. And now I’ll fail unless I break Kael Estaran.” He spun, eyes bright with anger. “Do you even hear yourself? Do you even know how much of me is already bent to fit your shape?”

Eryndor’s stare was merciless. “Not enough. You bend, but you don’t break. And until you break, you’re useless to me.”

Silence stretched. Jared’s breath came fast, but he forced his face still.

Finally, he said, “You want him gone so badly, why don’t you do it yourself?”

“Because the Academy is watching him,” Eryndor answered. “Because Archon already doubts him. Because if he falls, it must come from inside. And you are inside.”

“And if he doesn’t fall?” Jared asked.

Eryndor’s lips curved, not into a smile but into something harsher. “Then you’ll fall instead. And believe me, Jared, if you do, no one will bother carving your name on stone. You’ll be forgotten, another wasted line in the Varion ledger.”

Jared’s throat tightened. He turned again, facing the wall. “You always talk like that. Like everything’s ledger and legacy. Like I don’t even exist outside of your calculations.”

“You exist to surpass me,” Eryndor said quietly. “Nothing else.”

Jared didn’t answer. His silence stretched so long that even Eryndor tilted his head, studying him.

Then Jared muttered, “Maybe that’s why you hate Kael so much.”

Eryndor’s eyes narrowed. “Oh really? What did you say?”

“Because he exists outside of it. He doesn’t measure himself against you, or me, or anyone. And you can’t stand that.”

Eryndor’s hand twitched at his side. For a moment, Jared thought he might strike him. But instead, his father stepped back, smoothing his coat with cold precision.

“You will do what is required,” he said. “I don’t care if you admire him, despise him, or dream of being him. You will bring him down. Or you are nothing.”

Jared swallowed hard. His voice was steady when he replied, but quiet. “Indeed. As a matter of fact, I already am nothing to you already.”

Eryndor’s gaze lingered on him, unreadable. Then he turned toward the table, gathering the parchments as if the conversation were concluded. “Don’t come back until you’ve done it.”

Jared didn’t move at first. His body trembled, anger and shame mixing until he wasn’t sure which was stronger. Finally, he pushed away from the wall and strode toward the door.

“We'll see.”

His father’s voice followed him. “Remember, Jared. Shadows eat the weak. Choose which side you’re on.”

Jared stopped in the doorway. His hand gripped the frame until his knuckles whitened. He didn’t look back when he answered.

“Maybe one day I’ll choose neither.”

Then he walked out into the corridor, the echo of his father’s words heavy behind him.

The halls of the estate stretched cold and silent. Jared’s steps quickened, his mind burning. He could still feel his father’s gaze on him, the weight of every demand, every expectation. His chest ached with it, but he forced himself to keep walking.

Halfway to the outer gate, he muttered aloud, “Break Kael Estaran… or be broken myself.” He spat the words like venom, but the venom stung his own tongue.

Somewhere beneath the anger, deeper than the hate, was a thought he couldn’t silence:

What if he’s right? What if I do envy him?

Jared shoved the thought down, harder than before, and kept walking until the night swallowed him whole.