The King's Guard

Chapter 51

The bells of Veridale’s southern gate rang long before the caravan appeared. Their low clang rolled across the capital, drawing people into the streets. Market stalls closed, shutters opened, and eyes turned east.

Kael stood with his squad on the steps of the Academy’s outer wall, armor polished but plain. The King himself had ordered the Corps deployed for this visit.

Reyna adjusted her bowstring, muttering under her breath. “Stormhaven never travels quiet, do they?”

Kyna tilted her head. “Would you, if you wanted everyone to know your wealth?”

Jared smirked, leaning against the rail. “I’d prefer everyone to know my power. Wealth is only the surface.”

Reyna shot him a look. “Funny, since you brag about your family’s vault more than anyone here.”

“Correction,” Jared drawled. “I brag because I have one. You think Stormhaven parades carriages for no reason? It’s the same game. Flash the silver, hide the knives.”

Kael finally spoke, eyes still on the distant road. “Or use the silver as the knife.”

That earned him a sideways glance from Kyna. “You think their envoy’s coming with hidden threats?”

“I think,” Kael said quietly, “anyone who arrives with trumpets wants to be feared as much as welcomed.”

Jared gave a low laugh. “Listen to the philosopher. Careful, Estaran, or the King will have you writing speeches instead of swinging a blade.”

Reyna cut in, sharp. “Better him than you. At least he’d keep his tongue clean.”

Jared put a hand to his chest in mock offence. “And deprive the Corps of my charm? Unthinkable.”

Kael ignored the back-and-forth. His gaze fixed on the caravan as it finally appeared: banners snapping in the wind, armored riders flanking a line of sleek carriages. The Stormhaven crest: a silver falcon on midnight blue, gleamed on every standard.

The first carriage passed. Nobles peered through curtains, expressionless. Then came the central carriage, drawn by six black horses. The window curtain shifted, and Kael glimpsed a pale face framed in gold. One of the royals.

Reyna whispered, “The Princess.”

Darius’s voice was low, firm. “Eyes forward. Not whispers.”

They straightened.

As the caravan rolled into the courtyard, the Shadow Corps formed a barrier along the outer steps. Kael’s squad took position near the gates, close enough to watch every movement.

The carriages halted. A man stepped down first: tall, dressed in silver-trimmed robes, his hair dark and streaked with grey. His bearing radiated command.

“Lord Eryndor,” Jared muttered, expression unreadable.

Reyna flicked her eyes toward him. “Your father.”

Jared didn’t answer.

Behind Eryndor, the Stormhaven royal family emerged. The King, broad-shouldered, with sharp eyes that weighed every shadow. His daughter, the Princess, followed, moving with quiet composure.

Kyna whispered, “They look like they own the ground they walk on.”

Darius shot her a glance, but she didn’t flinch.

The King of Veridale stepped forward from his dais, offering his hand. “Welcome to Veridale.”

Formal greetings followed, drowned in applause from the watching crowd.

Kael leaned slightly toward Reyna. “This much spectacle for a diplomatic visit?”

Reyna muttered, “Spectacle’s the point.”

The Shadow Corps shifted ranks as the royals moved inside. Velreth appeared near the entrance: High Commander, cloak draped heavy, face sharp as a blade. His eyes swept the crowd before settling on Kael.

Kael stiffened.

Reyna noticed. “He’s watching you again.”

“Always,” Kael murmured.

Velreth’s gaze lingered a second longer, then moved on.

Darius caught it too. “Ignore him. Eyes on the task.”

The task came quickly. As the royals ascended the stairs, Darius ordered Kael’s squad forward. “You’ll shadow Lord Arvel, Stormhaven’s envoy. Keep distance. But if he strays, you follow.”

Reyna frowned. “We’re watching their envoy?”

“Yes,” Darius said. “No questions.”

Jared’s smirk curved wider. “Of course. Because nothing says welcome like surveillance.”

“Quiet,” Darius snapped.

Lord Arvel emerged from the carriage, older than the King, but lean and precise in movement. His eyes darted quickly, measuring. He adjusted his cloak before entering the palace.

Darius gestured. “That’s your charge. Stay with him.”

They followed Arvel into the palace corridors.

The envoy paused often, studying tapestries, iron sconces, carved reliefs along the hallways. He never asked questions, but his gaze seemed to record everything.

Reyna murmured, “He’s not sightseeing.”

Kael agreed. “He’s scouting.”

Jared tilted his head. “Or pretending to, so we notice.”

Kyna’s eyes narrowed. “Then the question is: what aren’t we noticing?”

Arvel eventually entered a guest chamber. Guards took post outside. Kael’s squad waited in the hall.

Minutes passed. The silence grew thick.

Reyna finally spoke. “Why would Darius assign us to shadow him? There are higher-ranked squads.”

Kael kept his tone low. “Because someone doesn’t trust us. Or because someone doesn’t trust him.”

Jared’s smirk returned. “Or maybe someone doesn’t trust you, Kael.”

Reyna shot him a sharp look. “Enough.”

The door creaked. Arvel stepped out, expression calm. He walked past them without a word, heading deeper into the palace. They followed.

Halfway down the corridor, Kael felt it — the weight of another gaze. He looked up. Velreth stood on the balcony above, arms folded, eyes fixed on him.

Kael slowed slightly. Reyna touched his arm. “Don’t look back. Just walk.”

“I know,” Kael murmured, but he could still feel Velreth’s eyes burning into his spine.

Arvel turned a corner into the east wing. The squad trailed behind.

“Strange,” Kyna said quietly.

“What?” Kael asked.

“His path. He’s not heading for the council chamber. He’s circling.”

“Testing routes,” Reyna guessed.

“Or setting them,” Kael muttered.

They followed him until he returned at last to his chamber. He entered without acknowledgment. The guards closed the doors.

The squad waited in silence.

Jared leaned against the wall. “So we spent the day babysitting a noble who walks in circles.”

Reyna crossed her arms. “Sometimes circles tell you more than straight lines.”

Jared chuckled. “Spoken like a true disciple.”

Kael cut in, tired of the sparring. “Enough. We wait.”

The corridor grew quiet again.

But Kael’s thoughts churned. Velreth’s eyes. Arvel’s scouting. The Stormhaven crest everywhere. And Darius’s warning the night before: Tomorrow, everything changes.

That night, after they were dismissed, Kael lingered in the courtyard. The palace windows glowed faint in the dark.

Reyna approached, arms folded. “You’re still thinking about it.”

Kael nodded. “Velreth’s eyes weren’t casual. And Arvel wasn’t just walking.”

“You think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know,” Kael admitted. “But Stormhaven didn’t come here just for pleasantries.”

Reyna lowered her voice. “Then we watch harder.”

Kael exhaled. “And trust less.”

Jared’s voice came from the shadows. “Oh, that’s rich. Estaran lecturing on trust.”

Kael turned. “What do you want, Jared?”

“Only to remind you,” Jared said smoothly, “that Stormhaven isn’t the only one playing games. Velreth, Archon, Darius: they all pull strings. And you? You’re still the puppet.”

Reyna bristled. “Enough.”

Jared smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll be watching. Someone has to see when you trip.”

He walked away, his boots echoing.

Kael stared after him, jaw tight.

Reyna’s voice was firm. “Ignore him. Focus on Arvel. On Velreth. On what matters.”

Kael finally nodded, though the unease remained.

He whispered to himself, words only the night heard. “I won’t be their puppet. Not Stormhaven’s. Not Velreth’s. Not Jared’s. Never.”

The wind shifted, carrying the distant sound of bells again.