Chapter 24: War Win, L. S.N (18+)

Kaelith's body jerked forward, silk bunching around his waist, sweat clinging to his skin. Hale pressed his cock against Kaelith's ass, not inside, just the friction of skin against silk, desire against restraint. There was no need for words. Only rhythm. Only the frantic sound of skin on silk and breath catching in each other's mouths.

They moved in rhythm grinding softly, breath catching, limbs entangled. Kaelith turned his head slightly, mouth parted, eyes glazed. Hale kissed his jaw, his cheek, his neck, all while stroking him until Kaelith gasped, a sound torn from his throat as he spilled into Hale's hand.

Kaelith came first, stiffening, biting down on a moan that still escaped in a strangled gasp. It wasn't polite or princely. It was real.

Hale wasn't far behind. His hand gripped Kaelith's hip as he pressed forward one last time, his cock pulsing, spilling between them as he groaned into Kaelith's shoulder like a man undone.

They stayed like that, tangled, trembling until the heat began to settle into something softer.

Hale pulled back slowly, chest still rising too fast. He didn't say anything. He just slid off the bed, limbs unsteady, and went to the basin.

Warm cloth. Silent care. No shame.

He returned and gently cleaned Kaelith's stomach, his thighs, and the mess between his legs. His hands were careful, reverent. Kaelith didn't speak, not with how raw he felt inside.

When Hale finished, he cleaned himself quickly, then lay back beside Kaelith, leaving a small space between them. He didn't touch this time. He just… lay there. Breathing. Letting the silence wrap around them like a second skin.

"I've never felt like that before," Hale said quietly. His voice was hoarse, like it scraped against something too vulnerable.

Kaelith didn't respond. But his body was listening.

"Being close to you…" Hale trailed off, staring at the ceiling. "It's the only time I forget who I am. What I'm allowed to want."

He turned his head to the side, eyes fluttering shut. "I feel alive next to you."

Within minutes, sleep pulled Hale under. His breathing slowed. His brow softened. The weight of longing and restraint finally lifted from his body.

But Kaelith remained awake.

He rolled onto his side slowly, careful not to disturb the space between them. His eyes landed on Hale's sleeping face, so peaceful. The kind of peace Kaelith hadn't known in years.

And that's when the ache returned, not in his body, but somewhere deeper.

Hale can lie beside me like this, Kaelith thought. He can touch me like I'm the only thing he needs. He can love me with open hands and no shame in his eyes.

But I can't love him back in the sun. Not in the court. Not in front of my father. Not in the kingdom I'm bound to rule.

His eyes lingered on Hale's open hand resting beside him. A hand that could fight, serve, and pleasure.

But not one that could reach for mine in public.

Kaelith closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

He wanted to be braver.

He wanted to be believed.

That one day… He would be brave enough to love him out loud.

Outside, the palace echoed with distant laughter and fading moans.

But inside this room, where fire had already burned, only silence remained.

The light of morning slipped through the carved stone windows in soft golden streaks. The palace, though quieter now, still hummed faintly with the residue of the previous night's pleasure thick in the walls, and silence draped like silk over the corridors.

Inside Kaelith's chambers, Hale stirred first.

He blinked up at the ceiling, the air cool against his bare chest. The warmth of Kaelith's body, once beside him, was now distant but still near enough to remember. He turned his head to glance at the prince.

Kaelith lay still, his face soft and unreadable, eyes closed, breathing steady.

Hale didn't speak. He simply stood, careful not to let the bed creak under his weight. His duty called, as it always did.

He moved around the room silently, filling the basin with fresh water, setting out Kaelith's ceremonial robe, the one made of royal crimson and silver-threaded edges, fitting for a morning that promised indulgence and competition.

He folded Kaelith's nightclothes with precise care, his fingers lingering for just a second too long on the silk that still held their heat from the night before.

Kaelith heard every sound: the soft rustle of linen, the splash of water, and Hale's bare feet on polished stone. He wasn't asleep. But he kept his eyes closed, letting Hale work. Letting himself pretend that nothing had changed. That Hale was just his servant again.

But a small part of him didn't want Hale to be just a servant.

Once Hale finished, he adjusted the collar of Kaelith's robe on the mannequin stand, then turned toward the bed. He bowed respectfully, even though he knew perhaps the prince was awake.

"Your Highness," he said softly. "Everything is ready."

No reply.

Hale lingered a second longer… then turned and left without another word.

The door closed gently behind him.

Kaelith's eyes opened.

He exhaled slowly, lifting a hand to run through his hair, then sat up. His body still remembered Hale's touch, but his mind pushed it down, forced his spine straight, his face calm.

He dressed in silence.

Not long after, a knock echoed on the door.

A pause.

Another knock.

Kaelith took a breath before answering.

"…Come in."

The door creaked open, and Ronan stepped in, his usual grin wide and wicked.

He stopped just inside the doorway, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Took you long enough to let me in," he teased. "I thought maybe you were still tangled in your sheets or someone..."

Kaelith arched a brow. "I was dressing."

Ronan laughed, stepping closer, his gaze flicking toward the now-neatly made bed. "Oh, I'm sure you were. Must've been quite the night. You look flushed."

Kaelith said nothing, adjusting the buckle of his belt.

But before he could respond, Ronan glanced behind him and smirked.

"I passed your quiet servant in the hall," he said. "Didn't say a word to me. Not even a grunt."

Kaelith's hands stilled.

Ronan stepped closer, voice lowered in amusement. "Now I'm curious… Is he always that silent after he makes a prince moan?"

Kaelith shot him a sharp look, but Ronan only chuckled.

"Relax. I won't tell. But you should see his face. He walks like he's afraid someone might smell sin on him."

Kaelith turned away, refusing to feed into it. "If you're done making a fool of yourself, we have a competition to prepare for."

Ronan shrugged, hands raised in mock surrender. "Of course. But let's not pretend I'm the only sinner in this kingdom anymore."

Kaelith didn't answer.

He simply picked up his cloak and moved past Ronan, his face unreadable once again.

But Ronan, sharp as ever, kept watching. And though he let the teasing go, he muttered under his breath as he followed.

"Lovers who hide always burn the deepest."

"We are not lovers, Ronan," Kaelith said sharply without turning. "And stop talking already. Someone might hear you."

Ronan's grin widened, undeterred. "Fine, fine. But tell me this, did he pass the night in your room?"

Kaelith's jaw clenched.

"Did he touch you?" Ronan leaned in closer, voice low and devilish, like a child taunting fire. "Oh… don't tell me he's already bent you over?"

Kaelith froze.

Ronan grinned wider, invading Kaelith's space with a whisper too bold to be innocent. "Come on… are you the one who gives, or takes?"

Kaelith slowly turned his head, eyes sharp as steel. They didn't burn with embarrassment they froze.

Ronan raised his palms in mock surrender. "Hey. Don't give me that look. I'm just curious. It's not every day I see a prince sneak around with his servant."

Kaelith turned away without a word and kept walking, his pace quickening.

But Ronan didn't stop.

"Was it good at least?" he asked, still trailing after him like a shadow with a mouth. "Did he moan? Did you?"

Kaelith halted mid-step.

The silence that followed rang louder than any answer.

And then...

"Please…" Kaelith snapped, voice cracking through the hallway like a whip. "Stop talking."

The words cut like glass controlled, but strained. Ronan blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. Then he raised both hands again, this time with a little more sincerity.

"Alright. Alright," he muttered. "I get it."

He fell into step beside Kaelith again, quieter now, though the grin on his lips hadn't fully faded. He opened his mouth, likely to poke one more hole in the prince's pride, but Kaelith cut him off.

"When are you going back to your kingdom?"

That did it.

Ronan let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. "Oh, relax. The show has just started, Prince. You don't chase a storm away before the thunder."

Kaelith didn't respond, his expression smooth but unreadable.

Ronan gave a short laugh. "Okay, okay. I'll keep quiet."

He crossed his arms, lips pressed shut, but his eyes still danced with knowing amusement, watching Kaelith out of the corner of his gaze like a boy who'd stolen a secret.

And Kaelith, regal and composed as ever, said nothing.

But his ears still burned.