The fire in Alric's chamber burned low, casting long shadows that danced like phantoms across the stone walls. The letter sat between his gloved fingers — folded, unfolded, folded again. Over and over. Like his thoughts.
She had written to someone. Someone who signed their name with only "R".
He knew who that was.
The crown prince. Her brother.
Alric slammed the parchment onto the table, the seal of House Liraen pressed faintly in the corner. Not visible to an ordinary eye, but Caelum had taught him well. Taught him to look beyond the ink. To find truth between the words.
A knock rattled the door.
"Enter," he said, voice cold.
Caelum stepped inside, quiet as dusk. His eyes moved to the table, the letter resting like a wound between them.
"So," the old man said. "You read it."
Alric didn't speak for a moment.
Then, low: "She writes to him. Updates. Pieces of me turned into weapons in her hand."
Caelum's expression remained unreadable. "Then you know what must be done."
Alric stood, hands gripping the edge of the table. "No. I don't."
Caelum frowned. "You were raised better than that. If she's deceiving you, if she's conspiring—"
"She's my wife."
"She's your enemy," Caelum snapped. "And you are a Duke sworn to the Empire. This is treason, Alric. This is betrayal. You must act before—"
"Before what?" Alric turned to him, eyes blazing. "Before I lose her? Before I do what's expected of me and crush what I love to keep the court clean?"
Silence fell like ash.
Then, softer, Alric added, "I know she's hiding something. I've known… deep down, longer than I want to admit. But if I call her traitor, if I confront her without certainty, I lose her. Even if I'm right."
Caelum studied the young Duke, the boy he once trained now a man torn between duty and devotion.
"Then what will you do?"
Alric exhaled, his jaw tight. "I will wait. I will watch. I will give her every chance to prove me wrong."
And in his heart, the unspoken vow burned quietly:
And even if she proves me right... I will still choose her.
.......to be continued....
Author's Note:
Look who's burning now. Not just the fire in the hearth — but Alric's heart, torn clean in two.
He's caught in the oldest war there is: love versus loyalty.
And while the court sharpens its knives and Caelum whispers of treason, our Duke clings to the impossible hope that maybe, just maybe, betrayal and love can coexist.
What a deliciously dangerous game he's playing.
Hold tight, dear reader —
The heart's about to be outmatched by the blade.
– Your ever-watchful author.