The air in the King's chamber was thick with incense and silence. Damien stood tall before the man who had ruled the kingdom for over three decades, but his heart thudded harder than it had when he'd faced down the chandelier or the explosive letter. This was different. This was personal.
The King's sharp eyes trailed over Damien's face, missing nothing. He was aging, yes, but not weak. The crown sat untouched on the table beside him, its presence a reminder of what was coming.
"Three attacks," the King said quietly. "And you're still standing."
Damien inclined his head. "I intend to remain so."
The King didn't smile. Instead, he folded his fingers. "And the guard? Alec. He's always with you."
Damien's breath hitched just slightly. "He's saved my life twice."
"Yes," the King said, almost to himself. "So I've heard."
The door opened suddenly. Prince Caspian entered, his blue cloak catching the candlelight. He nodded to the King and walked straight to Damien's side.
"Father," Caspian said, voice calm but edged. "There's no need to question his loyalty. Or Alec's."
The King's gaze sharpened. "Is that what I'm doing, Caspian? Or am I simply ensuring my son survives long enough to wear the crown?"
A brief silence followed.
Caspian's tone softened. "Damien needs support, not suspicion. He's been through too much already."
The King looked from one son to the other. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. But listen well, both of you. There's rot in this palace. And until I root it out, you trust no one beyond this room."
He turned back to Damien. "Tomorrow, you attend the High Council. I want you prepared. We'll move as one."
Damien nodded. "Understood."
Outside the chamber, Caspian drew Alec aside.
They stood in the corridor, torches flickering along the stone walls. The castle seemed to sleep, but tension lingered.
"Walk with me," Caspian said.
They paced in silence for a time.
"I meant what I said," Caspian began. "I trust you, Alec. I always have."
Alec glanced at him. "Then why does this sound like a warning?"
Caspian sighed. "Because I see the way you look at him. And I see the way he looks at you."
Alec didn't respond.
Caspian stopped. "My brother is walking into a storm. I need you to be his sword, his shield. Not his weakness."
Alec's voice was quiet but firm. "I would die for him."
Caspian's jaw tightened. "Don't. Just keep him alive. And keep yourself whole." Caspian left ,and Alec stood there thinking about the whole thing that is happening.
Damien sat alone in his chamber, moonlight pouring through the stained glass windows. The flicker of candlelight couldn't chase away the shadows of his thoughts.
He thought of the King's questions. Caspian's eyes. Alec's closeness. His fingers curled involuntarily, as if remembering the heat of Alec's touch against his skin. It lingered more than a memory. It was a craving.
A soft shuffling sound pulled him from his thoughts. A paper, slid beneath the door.
He stood quickly, snatching it up. No seal. No handwriting he recognized.
Only a single sentence: "What's the worth of a crown if your heart is already owned?"
His blood ran cold. The message wasn't just a threat it was personal.
He moved swiftly.
"Throne," he called. "Send for Alec. Now."
They met on the tower balcony, where the wind whipped around them, carrying the scent of the night sky.
Alec was already there when Damien arrived, cloak fluttering behind him. He turned the moment Damien stepped out.
"What happened?"..Damien handed him the note.
Alec read it, eyes narrowing. "They know."
"They're watching," Damien said, voice low. "Inside the palace. Possibly in this wing."
Alec moved closer. "It means they're scared. You're close to something."
"Or someone," Damien whispered. His eyes met Alec's.
A beat of silence passed.
Alec stepped even closer. "Are you scared?"
Damien laughed once—quiet and bitter. "Terrified. Of losing control. Of losing you."
The confession hung between them like a blade.
Alec's voice was raw. "Then don't lose me."
Damien reached out, fingers grazing Alec's. Electricity sparked at the contact. He stepped forward until there was barely space between them.
Alec didn't move away. His hand found Damien's waist, slow, reverent.
"This isn't right," Damien whispered.
"It's real," Alec said.
Damien leaned in, his breath mingling with Alec's. The tension was unbearable. His hand moved to Alec's chest, fingers curled into the fabric.
He was about to close the final distance ...But he pulled back.
Breathing hard, Damien stepped away, pacing to the edge of the balcony.
"I can't," he muttered. "Not yet."
Alec's eyes followed him. There was no anger, only restraint. "You don't have to rush. I'll wait. I always have."
Damien turned. His eyes shimmered in the moonlight. "You deserve more than waiting."
"I only want you alive. And free."
They stood there in silence, the wind speaking the words they couldn't.
Unseen to them, a shadow crouched on the rooftop across from the tower.
The cloaked figure watched through a narrow scope, breath even and silent. Gloved fingers held a second note identical to the one Damien had received.
The spy tucked it into a pouch and vanished into the shadows, moving with deadly grace.
Slipping through a hidden corridor, he reached the back passages of the palace and disappeared behind a secret door.
His whispered words echoed as the stone clicked shut:
"The crown isn't the only thing worth stealing."