SOMEONE IS WATCHING

"The northern border remains vulnerable," Lord Gregor, one of the high lords, spoke up, his thick brows furrowed. "If the Elves attempt another incursion, we'll be at risk of losing control."

Kael leaned forward from his throne, resting his elbows on the armrest. "And what do you suggest, Lord Gregor?"

Gregor hesitated, casting a glance toward Eryndor before answering. "An increase in our forces stationed there. And perhaps… a more decisive response."

Kael's eyes darkened. "You mean retaliation."

Gregor stiffened. "If we continue to show restraint, they will see us as weak."

Kael's grip on the armrest tightened. This was the same tired argument the court had been making for years—one that always ended in bloodshed. His gaze flickered to his uncle, waiting to see if Eryndor would interject.

But Eryndor only smiled slightly, his fingers tracing the silver pommel of his cane. "A strong ruler knows when to strike and when to wait. What do you think, Kael?"

A test. It was always a test with him.

Kael exhaled slowly. "Strength is not always measured in war," he said, keeping his tone even. "We need more intelligence before we move. If we retaliate blindly, we risk stirring something worse."

Caspian chuckled from his seat. "How noble of you, cousin."

Kael ignored him. "We'll send spies to the border to gather information first. No action until we know what we're dealing with."

Gregor looked dissatisfied but bowed his head. "As you command."

The discussion shifted, the lords moving on to trade agreements, border disputes, and alliances. Kael's mind, however, remained elsewhere.

Elsewhere—to his wife. The human.

He had seen her last night in the garden, standing beneath the moonlight, her delicate fingers brushing over the petals of a dying flower—only for it to bloom back to life beneath her touch. She had been smiling. And beside her, watching her with open intrigue, had been Caspian.

Kael clenched his jaw.

He hadn't meant to watch from the shadows like a fool. But something had rooted him in place, his chest tightening in a way he didn't quite understand.

Caspian had been close to her. Too close. His voice had been low, teasing, his eyes filled with a knowing gleam Kael didn't like. And Alara—his wife—had blushed.

The memory stirred something sharp inside him.

"Your Highness?"

Kael blinked, forcing himself back to the present. The lords were waiting for his response.

He exhaled slowly, pushing the thoughts away. Now was not the time.

But still, the weight in his chest remained.

***

Alara sat on the grass, her legs tucked beneath her, fingers running through the cool blades as she hummed softly. A few birds perched nearby, tilting their heads, listening. She smiled at them, murmuring nonsense, just to fill the silence. She didn't know what else to do.

Kael had been gone since morning, buried in court matters, and without him, the castle felt unfamiliar, too big, too empty. So she had come here, to the garden, where the air was fresh and the world felt softer.

The garden was her favourite place in this castle, where she can be herself and sit in peace.

But then—

A chill ran down her spine.

The birds scattered all at once, like they were running away from something scary. The breeze, which had been warm and gentle, stilled, leaving the air heavy and still.

Something was watching her.

She didn't see it, didn't hear anything, but she felt it—like a weight pressing against her chest, like eyes crawling over her skin. Her magic warned her of the dark energy surrounding her all of a sudden.

Slowly, she turned, scanning the trees, the hedges, the empty pathways. Nothing. No one. But the feeling wouldn't go away.

Her hands clenched in the grass. She swallowed.

She wasn't alone. There was someone. Something.

"Who are you?" She found herself voicing out. Her eyes scanned over every inch of space as she called upon her magic for precaution. 

The energy came near her, and then it brushed past her like a chilling breeze, her long silver hair flying into the air. She turned around sharply, her breathing started to pick up.

"What do you want?" She demanded, her voice scratchy as if she hadn't used it for years. She clenched her fist, magic swirling inside it. 

"I want you" Came a voice that shook her to her core, it's the same voice she heard from the library. That haunting, bone-chilling voice. Alara shivers, except for her fisted palm filled with her magic, all of her turn ice cold. Like an ice sculpture. 

"Who are you?" Alara asked again, she lifted her hand to the air, ready to strike. "Don't make me ask you again." She sneered. 

"Who I am doesn't matter." The voice came closer and Alara shot her magic against that space, hot slings of magic shoot out of her palm. 

The dark entity laughed. "Quite powerful, I know." It mocked, "But I'm not going to leave you that easily." 

Alara's heart jumped at the change of tone, the anger and hatred in that voice was startling. It made a fear root in her chest, for a moment she even questioned the power of her magic. "What do you want from me?" She demanded, refusing to let the fear show. She knew these kinds of evil feed from fear.

"I want you. All of you." The laugh that followed the words were unsettling. Yet she still stood her ground, head held high and eyes sharp like swords. 

"Take me if you can." Alara challenged, a smirk blooming on her pink lips. 

"I will soon. You are the one who woke me up from my slumber."