The Kings Warning

Seraphina woke to the sharp chill of dawn, her cloak offering little warmth against the cold. The fire had burned down to faint embers, their soft glow barely cutting through the dim morning light. The scent of smoke clung to her clothes, mixing with the damp earth beneath her. She shifted, rolling her shoulders to shake off the stiffness of sleep.

Then, her gaze landed on him.

Kael Draeven.

He was already awake, as she had expected. His back was to her, his posture relaxed but never truly at ease. A sharpening stone scraped against the edge of his blade in slow, measured strokes. The sound, steady and deliberate filled the quiet morning like a heartbeat.

She watched him for a moment.

It wasn't just his movements; it was the way he carried himself as if the very air bent to his will. Kael wasn't just present—he commanded every space he occupied. He didn't ask for power. He took it.

And that made her nervous because a man like Kael Draeven didn't just claim thrones, he claimed everything.

And Seraphina refused to be next.

She pulled her cloak tighter as if that would shield her from the pain of realization that kept creeping up her spine. There was no reason for it. None at all.

Then, without looking up, Kael spoke.

"You're staring, Princess."

Seraphina scowled. "Only because I'm debating whether I should push you off this cliff or wait for nature to do it for me."

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest. It wasn't mocking, but something about it irritated her all the same. He stood, his movements fluid, effortless, like he belonged to the wind itself.

He sheathed his sword and turned to face her, with amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "You're not that cruel."

Seraphina lifted her chin. "You don't know me."

Kael took a slow step forward, then another. He moved with purpose, closing the distance between them until there was barely a foot of space left. The morning air was cold, but the heat of his presence was undeniably warming.

She refused to step back.

She refused to let him see the effect he's closeness had on her.

His gaze held hers, calm and distant. "Don't I?"

His voice was quieter now, almost… careful. That was dangerous.

Seraphina knew how to deal with his harsh words, his sharp looks, and his pride. She knew how to fight back, how to stand her ground when he pushed.

But this quiet, gentle side of him felt different.

And she didn't know how to handle it.

Her fingers twitched at her sides.

He was testing her.

And the worst was that he was winning.

So she met his gaze with disgust, her voice steady. "You think you have me figured out, Warlord?"

Kael's smirk didn't fade, but something in his expression shifted. Something thoughtful. "I think you're fighting a battle you don't understand yet."

Seraphina's sucked in a sharp breath just for a second. So slight she doubted he noticed.

By midmorning, they had packed up camp and were back on their horses, the steady rhythm of hoofbeats filling the silence between them. The sun had risen higher, chasing away the morning chill, but Seraphina felt no warmth. The weight in her chest remained quiet and unrelenting.

The road ahead twisted and stretched toward Draeven's capital, the place that would soon become her prison.

Kael rode beside her, his presence impossible to ignore. He was silent, but she could feel his gaze on her—assessing, watching, as if trying to read her soul.

Seraphina had never been easy to read. She had learned young how to guard her thoughts, how to numb her expression even when her mind was at storm. But Kael Draeven was relentless. He studied her the way a warrior studied an opponent before a fight.

And it scratched on her nerves.

Finally, she exhaled sharply and pulled back on her reins, slowing just enough to cast him a pointed look.

"Say whatever it is you're thinking, or stop looking at me like I'm a puzzle you're trying to solve."

Kael's lips twitched as if amused by her frustration. "I was just wondering, how long do you think you can keep up this game?"

Seraphina frowned. "What game?"

He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes gleaming. "You act as if you're waiting for the right moment. As if you haven't already lost the choice."

The words struck deeper than she wanted to admit.

Seraphina forced her expression into something neutral. "Everyone has choices."

Kael hummed, his fingers drumming idly against the hilt of his sword. "Not in war."

His voice was quiet, but there was something in it—something that lingered between them like a shadow.

Seraphina turned back to the road, jaw tightening. "Is that how you justify everything? That war made the choices for you?"

Kael didn't answer right away. The silence stretched between them, thick and unspoken.

Then, at last, his smirk faded. His voice, when it came, was steady. "I don't need explanations. I only need results."

There was no arrogance in the way he said it. No cruelty. Just certainty.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Seraphina turned away before she could read too much into his expression, before she could let herself wonder what those words truly meant.

Because if she wasn't careful, Kael Draeven might start looking for cracks in her.