Slowly, Kaelith distanced himself from Yuto, his presence retreating by a single step—yet the weight of him did not lessen. His gaze swept across the inn, sharp and measuring, as if he were taking stock of an already conquered territory.
The patrons froze under that look.
Some were still standing, hands half-raised as though caught mid-gesture. Others sat rigidly in their seats, faces pale, eyes fixed anywhere but on the blood staining the floorboards. The air was thick with the metallic scent of death, clinging to the back of the throat. No one dared speak. No one dared move.
The headless body lay where it had fallen, unmoving, final.
Kaelith's attention lingered on them only briefly.
Then he spoke.
"Let's go."
His voice was not loud. It did not need to be. It cut through the silence with effortless authority, a command that required no acknowledgment. He turned away immediately, already certain of obedience, and walked toward the exit.
Only then did the room seem to breathe again.
Chairs scraped softly against the floor. Someone exhaled too sharply and clapped a trembling hand over their mouth. A woman near the far wall sank back into her seat as if her legs could no longer support her.
Yuto remained where she stood.
Her body felt heavy, as though the world had suddenly increased its gravity. The scene replayed behind her eyes—wind rushing past her face, a blur of motion too fast to follow, then silence where a heartbeat should have been. She knew she should move. She knew staying behind was dangerous.
Yet her feet would not obey.
A presence approached from her side.
Kayden stopped beside her, his expression carefully neutral, though there was a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
"You certainly look pretty," he murmured, his tone almost amused. "But, sister-in-law, we really shouldn't keep the king waiting."
His fingers brushed her arm in a light, almost playful tap.
The contact snapped something in her.
Yuto turned sharply, her glare cutting through him. "I'm not your sister-in-law," she hissed. "And don't touch me."
Her teeth ground together as she spoke, anger briefly overpowering fear.
Kayden blinked once—then smiled.
"Feisty," he muttered under his breath, stepping aside to give her space. "I like it. You will be soon enough."
She ignored him and took a hesitant step forward.
Deep down, she knew there was no escape. The truth settled cold and heavy in her chest. Even if she ran, even if she screamed, it would change nothing. Reluctantly, she followed the path Kaelith had taken, her boots leaving faint prints in blood she tried not to look at.
Outside, the night air struck her skin, sharp and grounding.
A dark carriage waited in front of the inn, its surface polished to a dull sheen that reflected the lantern light. The sigil carved into its door was unmistakable—ancient, powerful, feared.
Kaelith stood beside it, his posture relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world.
When he noticed her approach, he extended a hand—not demanding, not impatient. Simply offered.
Yuto stared at it.
For a moment, she considered refusing. The thought burned bright and defiant. But she knew what defiance would cost her now. Slowly, she placed her hand in his.
His grip was steady, firm enough to anchor her as she stepped into the carriage. The moment she was inside, he released her.
She barely had time to adjust before a shadow detached itself from the darkness near the inn's entrance.
It moved unnaturally, its edges blurring as if it did not fully belong to the physical world.
Kill them.
The words were not spoken aloud.
Kaelith's lips did not move. His expression did not change. Yet the command rippled through the air with unmistakable intent.
The shadow did not hesitate.
It dissolved into the night, leaving no trace of its presence behind.
Kaelith stepped into the carriage and closed the door himself. The interior dimmed as the carriage began to move, wheels rolling smoothly over stone.
He sat across from Yuto, his posture composed, one arm resting loosely against the seat. He said nothing.
Yuto turned her face toward the window, watching the village slip by in blurred streaks of light and shadow. Her mind raced, searching for patterns, for openings, for anything she could use.
But there was nothing.
The silence stretched.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," Kaelith said at last, his voice low and calm.
"I'm not," she replied immediately.
The words came too fast.
He studied her, his gaze lingering just long enough to make her pulse quicken.
"Good," he said. "Just so you know, I can never hurt you."
Her fingers curled against her palm.
"That's a strange thing to say," she replied quietly, still staring out the window. "Coming from you."
He did not deny it.
The carriage slowed as massive gates came into view, iron rising like a wall against the night sky. Guards snapped to attention the moment they recognized the royal sigil.
The gates opened.
Yuto's chest tightened as the palace emerged before her, looming and familiar in the worst way. Stone spires cut into the sky, lit by torchlight that flickered like watchful eyes.
The carriage rolled to a stop.
Kaelith exited first, then turned back toward her, extending his hand once more.
This time, she took it without hesitation.
The courtyard was silent as they crossed it. Servants and guards alike kept their heads bowed, their eyes carefully averted. Whispers dared not form.
They walked deeper into the palace, the echo of their footsteps muted by thick carpets and towering walls. The corridors grew quieter the further they went, until even the distant sounds of servants faded into nothingness.
Yuto noticed it then.
They weren't heading toward the guest wing.
Her pace slowed.
"This isn't the southern wing," she said, her voice low but certain.
Kaelith glanced at her, unbothered. "You still remember the layout."
"I do," she replied. "And this path doesn't lead to separate chambers."
He said nothing.
That silence unsettled her more than any threat could have.
They stopped before a pair of tall doors, carved with subtle sigils meant to ward against intrusion. Two guards standing nearby bowed instantly and stepped away without being told.
Yuto's heartbeat quickened.
"This is—" She stopped herself, dread creeping up her spine. "This is your wing."
Kaelith reached for the doors.
"Kaelith," she said sharply. "Whatever you're planning, stop."
He paused, his hand resting against the carved wood. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face her. His expression was calm, but his eyes held something unreadable—something final.
"There are no separate rooms," he said evenly.
The words did not register at first.
"What?" she asked.
"You will stay where I can see you," he continued. "Where I can protect you. Where no one can reach you without going through me."
Her breath hitched.
"You're saying—" She shook her head, disbelief and anger colliding in her chest. "That's not protection. That's imprisonment."
"If it were imprisonment," Kaelith said quietly, "you would not be standing here arguing with me."
He pushed the doors open.
Warm light spilled out, revealing a spacious chamber beyond—one bed, large and unmistakable, positioned beneath a high arched window. No screens. No adjoining rooms. No illusion of separation.
Yuto froze.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"You expect me to share a room with you?" she demanded.
Kaelith stepped inside, then looked back at her, his voice calm, unwavering.
"I expect you to," he said. "And starting today, this is the only way."
The doors closed behind them with a soft, decisive click.
Yuto stood rooted to the spot, the weight of his words sinking in far too slowly.
The storm inside her had nowhere left to run.