Chapter 52
Jay settled on the grass beside Rain, the blades bending softly beneath his weight.
Morning light filtered through the thin veil of clouds overhead, casting a muted glow across the training grounds.
From this angle, Jay had an unobstructed view of Rain’s body; each controlled movement, each flex of muscle beneath the fitted grey training shirt.
Rain’s shoulders rolled with quiet strength as he lowered himself into another push-up, the fabric stretching over the sculpted lines of his back.
His breath was steady, controlled, almost meditative.
Jay watched him for a moment longer than he meant to.
Rain stilled mid-movement, holding himself in a perfect plank when Jay finally spoke.
“You seem quiet today.”
Rain’s gaze flicked sideways, a brief glance that revealed exhaustion hidden beneath his usual composure. He braced his core, holding a plank with effortless stability.
“I’m just tired,” he replied, voice low. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Jay plucked absently at the grass, tearing small blades between his fingers. “Got a lot on your mind?”
Rain smiled faintly at the ground, recognising the effort Jay was making. Small talk wasn’t Rain’s strength—never had been—but he understood the intention behind it. Jay was trying. Jay wanted to build something between them again, even if it wasn’t what either of them had once hoped for.
That meant more to Rain than he could ever admit aloud.
“There is always a lot on my mind,” Rain said, the words steady but weighted. His arms trembled subtly; not from exertion, but from the tension coiled inside him. He turned his head, studying Jay’s posture, the way Jay’s energy flickered with nervousness and sincerity.
Jay felt the attention like a physical touch. His cheeks flushed, his shoulders tensing as he looked away, suddenly self-conscious under Rain’s focused gaze.
Rain hadn’t meant to make things awkward. But the intensity between them—always simmering, always unspoken—lingered like static in the air.
Trying to soften it, he offered lightly, “You look good today.”
Jay’s reaction was immediate.
His brows shot up, his eyes widened, and a flicker of panic crossed his face as if Rain had just confessed something scandalous. Rain’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. Jay’s flustered expressions had always been his weakness; adorable, earnest, painfully transparent.
Realising how his words might have landed, Rain quickly corrected himself, voice gentler.
“Sorry—I meant you look well. How’s your rib healing?”
Jay’s hand flew to his side instinctively. “Oh—actually, it feels great! Today’s the first day I’ve woken up without pain. The bruising’s almost gone.” He gave a sheepish grin. “I’ll probably be sore later, though.”
“I’m glad you’re improving,” Rain said warmly. “Just keep resting. Hopefully you’ll be okay to run on Velday.”
He flowed seamlessly into another set of push-ups, grounding himself as he prepared to ask the question that had been gnawing at him since last night.
After a moment, he spoke.
“Can I ask you something? It’s about the Red Kingdom.”
He paused mid-push-up, lifting his gaze to meet Jay’s. “You can say no. I won’t hold it against you.”
Jay brightened; eager, almost relieved to be useful. “Sure. Ask anything. Just… maybe don’t let Wren overhear.”
They both glanced toward Wren. Her braid bounced as she animatedly chatted with Jasmine, her expressive hands slicing through the air. She looked carefree, but Rain could feel the sharpness beneath her surface; her protectiveness, her suspicion.
“She means well,” Jay said softly. “She’s just overprotective. Our dads work together—we’ve always had each other’s backs. She’s like my sister.”
“Understandable,” Rain murmured. “I’ll admit, the change in her opinion of me… it stings a little. But I’m grateful you have someone looking out for you. That matters more to me.”
Jay’s expression softened.
Rain continued, “I wouldn’t ask if I thought it put you in danger. I’m just curious.”
Jay nodded, leaning in slightly.
“Last night I went for a drink at the Black Hole. It was unusually busy for a Gilday. And most of the crowd were Red citizens. It felt… odd.”
Rain held another plank, his brows knitting. “Do you know why so many would be in the area?”
Jay hesitated, glancing toward Wren again before lowering his voice.
“Yeah… it’s because the King is visiting Carminia. I overheard my dad telling my mum he’s hosting another heir ball on Velday.”
He leaned closer, conspiratorial. “There were rumours he’d narrowed his choices to two noblemen and was going to announce it. But suddenly—another ball.”
Rain paused mid-movement.
He sat back on his heels, processing.
Jay continued, “Most people think the obvious choice is Malcom Drisconi. He’s always been close to the King and has the same ability. People like him because he’s familiar. But… our opinions don’t matter.”
Rain’s jaw tightened.
Malcom Drisconi.
An arrogant prick. Cruel.
Rain had never met him, but he experienced the suffocating effects of Malcom’s smoke on the battlefield.
Drazier had every opportunity to name him heir and never had. The tension between them was practically public theatre.
Jay plucked at the grass again. “We’re patriotic. Where the King goes, crowds follow. Everyone will be lining up at the grand hall to see the royals. Usually there are royals from all kingdoms—just not Blue.”
A sour weight settled in Rain’s stomach.
The Red Kingdom would never bow to him easily. He knew that. But hearing it aloud; hearing the devotion they held for their own, made the reality feel heavier.
“Yeah,” Rain said dryly. “Sworn enemies don’t tend to invite you to their festivities.”
He tried to laugh it off, but the unease lingered.
“I don’t understand why he’s hosting it in Carminia,” Rain added. “So far from the capital. So close to us. It doesn’t make sense.”
Not when he knows I have his daughters.
Jay opened his mouth to respond but Wren had spotted them.
She marched over with purpose, dropping onto the grass beside Jay with a thud. Her braid swished dramatically, but her posture was stiff, her smile too tight.
“Hey!” she chirped, voice pitched a little too high. “What are you guys talking about?”
Rain answered before Jay could. “I was asking Jay about his injury. Sounds like he’ll be okay to run on Velday.”
“Thank the Gods,” Wren blurted. “Let’s pray we don’t get beaten up by your enemies again before the tournament.”
Even she seemed startled by her own words, smiling through a cringe.
Rain’s eyes narrowed. Her hostility wasn’t even subtle anymore.
Jay gasped. “Wren!”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” she said quickly, as if that somehow made it better. She cleared her throat. “Erm… Rain, I was wondering how our princesses are doing?”
Rain’s instincts snapped taut; a sharp, visceral tightening in his chest, the kind that never lied. Something wasn’t right.
Not with Wren’s tone.
Not with her timing.
Not with the question itself.
Wren hated discussing anything that could put them at risk. She had always been the first to shut down dangerous conversations, the first to scold him for asking about the Red Kingdom, the first to remind him that even knowing about the princesses was enough to get them all killed.
She would never ask for more information.
Not unless something had changed.
Not unless someone had gotten to her.
Her recent behaviour only sharpened the alarm bells ringing in Rain’s mind.
She had grown distant, colder, more guarded.
Their friendship, once easy, once warm, felt like it had been shoved into a locked box.
She barely acknowledged him now, except to wedge herself between him and Jay like a human shield.
It wasn’t protectiveness anymore.
It was surveillance.
And Rain felt the shift of realisation like a blade pressed to the back of his neck.
He swallowed the rising dread and forced his expression into something soft and casual, donning the mask he never wished to use toward his friends
“They’re doing great,” he said lightly, as though nothing inside him was screaming. “I’m really proud of how far they’ve come. Scarlet has surprised me the most; maintaining control of her power.”
His pride was genuine, but his tone was carefully measured. He needed to sound natural. Unbothered. Unaware.
All the while, he kept his senses locked on Wren.
Her energy was a mess; confusion, anxiety, guilt, fear, all bubbling beneath the surface. She was trying to redirect it, trying to push curiosity to the front, but she was terrible at masking her emotions. She had never tried to hide anything from him before.
So how was she suddenly doing it now?
Who taught her?
“Wow, that’s amazing,” Wren said, her voice pitched unnaturally high. Jay didn’t notice, he smiled, oblivious. But Rain noticed everything.
“Are you keeping them close by? Could we meet them? They’re our princesses after all. Does your father know where you’re keeping them?”
The questions came too quickly.
Too pointed.
Too rehearsed.
Rain smiled warmly; a perfect, practiced smile, ensuring she didn’t realise he was dissecting every word.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s safe for the girls to be around mortals yet,” he said gently. “They’ve been through a lifetime of seclusion and neglect. It’ll take time for them to adjust. I’d never put you in harm’s way; just as I wouldn’t put them in danger.”
Wren bit her lip—hard—and her energy spiked with panic she could no longer hide.
Rain tilted his head, voice softening.
“Is everything alright, Wren?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped, the words sharp and brittle. She shot to her feet; fists planted on her hips. “Jay, we need to go home. Remember we have that thing later.”
Jay blinked, startled. He shot Rain an apologetic look as he stood, confusion swirling around him like fog. Whatever was happening with Wren; he clearly had no idea.
Rain’s heart eased a fraction.
Jay wasn’t involved.
Thank the Gods.
“Wren,” Rain called, reaching out and catching her hand.
She froze.