Chapter 7

The air grew heavy, laden with an oppressive silence that pressed down on the room. Each of General Kaelion's strides echoed through the hall, purposeful and deliberate, as though the very ground submitted to his presence. He moved like a force of nature—unyielding, commanding every gaze to follow him.

 Rhaine remained composed, her chin slightly lifted, but a flicker of curiosity betrayed her as she glanced at the man drawing closer

 Those eyes.

 Kaelion recognized them – they were the same eyes he had seen on the battlefield, filled with an intensity that had left a lasting impression.

 Standing an imposing six feet four, a shadow cast over the space around him. His black armor gleamed under the torchlight, every plate and insignia whispering of power and authority. His gaze locked onto Rhaine, a gaze that would make a person feel like disappearing. Instead, her expression remained calm, almost distant.

 "General," she said coolly, offering a curt bow. Her tone was polite, but there was no warmth in her words—only formality.

 Kaelion remained silent, his piercing eyes boring into her as if he were dissecting her very soul. His lips parted slightly, as though he were about to speak, but instead, he cleared his throat. The sound, rough and deliberate, shattered the silence like a blade cutting through tension.

 Before either could say more, the king's voice interrupted, rich with authority. "General Kaelion," he said, his tone both commanding and casual, "our esteemed saintess has arrived to carry out her sacred duty. She is entrusted with matters of healing and health, both for the court and our people. Ensure she is well-informed and adequately protected."

 Kaelion's head inclined slightly in acknowledgment, though his eyes never left Rhaine.

 Rhaine, in turn, met his gaze with a resolute calm, refusing to waver beneath its intensity. Yet, her expression betrayed a flicker of disinterest.

 "As you command, Your Majesty," Kaelion said at last, his deep voice resonating through the hall. There was no embellishment in his words, only a stark efficiency that seemed to mirror the man himself.

 Rhaine gave a faint nod and stepped back, her posture exuding composure, though she inwardly dismissed the general's presence. Whatever his reputation, she had no interest in him or the stories of his exploits.

 Unbeknownst to them, a dark gaze followed their every movement.

 The princess sat stiffly on her throne, her hands clenching the delicate armrests until her knuckles turned white. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched Rhaine with an intensity that burned like a dying ember, her dark eyes narrowing with every passing second.

 What makes her so special? the princess thought bitterly. The faint curl of her lips revealed the storm brewing in her heart. She was no stranger to the whispers about Kaelion's indifference toward the women of the court, and yet here he was, giving this saintess his full attention—even if it was only duty-bound. The jealousy simmering within her was sharp and corrosive, and her gaze turned venomous as she stared at Rhaine.

 Kaelion's sharp senses did not miss the dark glances cast by the princess. Though he made no outward acknowledgment, the faintest flicker of irritation passed through his eyes before vanishing just as quickly. His focus remained on his duty, and he refused to entertain whatever pettiness lingered in the shadows.

 The king's voice broke the tension. "Saintess," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "the afternoon meal shall be served shortly. My servants will escort you to your guest quarters. Do make yourself comfortable. We shall speak further at the feast."

 Rhaine inclined her head politely, though her thoughts were far from compliant. The king's words dripped with a familiarity she did not care for, but she maintained her serene façade.

 "Very well, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice soft yet firm bowing to the king and queen. She turned to follow the servants as they gathered her belongings, her movements graceful but deliberate.

As she looked back at the princess, she felt the weight of the woman's hostile gaze, though she did not spare her a glance. Selara, trailing slightly behind, noticed the look and frowned, but Rhaine's calm demeanor held her back from saying anything.

 Kaelion remained still, his eyes lingering on Rhaine as she left the hall. Though his expression was unreadable, there was a faint crease to his brow, a shadow of thought that betrayed his otherwise stoic demeanor.

The king's gaze suddenly changed as Rhaine left the throne room. Yet, he kept his silence seeming thinking of something. The time is yet come

Later...

The dining hall of Eldora's royal castle was as grand as one might imagine, its walls lined with gold filigree and tapestries depicting battles long won and alliances long broken. The table stretched almost the length of the room, its polished mahogany surface gleaming under the glow of the grand chandeliers. Seated at its center, Rhaine couldn't help but feel the weight of the stares directed at her, though she kept her expression carefully neutral.

 The king was the first to break the silence, his voice smooth yet laced with a subtle undertone that sent a chill down her spine. "Tell me, Saintess," he began, leaning forward slightly, his goblet of wine dangling lazily in his hand. "Have you ever heard of something called the military realignment map? With a lineage as ancient as yours, I assume you must have come across the name in your sacred texts."

Mere moments into the meal, and the king had already broached such a pointed question. It was clear that there was more to this man than met the eye - his gaze was heavy, his smile polite but predatory, like a serpent coiled and waiting.