13. Rowan
The message came just after sunrise.
Not from Caelum.
Not from a guard.
From the King.
That alone told me this wasn't normal.
I stood outside the doors longer than I should have.
Not because I was scared.
I don't scare easy.
But something about this felt... off.
Kings don't just "request a chat" with bodyguards.
Especially not ones who haven't even been here that long.
Especially not ones with bruises that haven't fully faded yet.
I rolled my shoulders once, then knocked.
"Enter."
Calm. Controlled. The kind of voice that didn't need to be loud to be obeyed.
Figures.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was exactly what you'd expect; large, polished, everything placed like it had a purpose. No clutter. No softness.
Just control.
He stood near the window, hands behind his back, looking out over the palace grounds like he owned the world.
Which, I guess, he kind of did.
"Rowan," he said without turning.
"Your Majesty."
Formal.
Distant.
Safe.
"Come in."
I stepped forward, stopping a few feet away.
Silence stretched for a moment before he finally turned to face me.
His gaze went straight to my face.
Of course it did.
Nothing gets past a man like that.
"Your injuries," he said. Not a question.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I've had worse."
A pause.
Then...
"That's not reassuring."
I didn't respond.
Because I wasn't here to reassure him.
"You're aware why you're here," he continued.
"Not exactly."
"Caelum."
Of course.
I clenched my jaw slightly.
"What about him?"
"He struck you."
Not did he. Not I heard.
Just a statement.
"Yeah."
"And you didn't retaliate."
"No."
"Why?"
I shrugged slightly. "Didn't feel like it."
His eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't really care what you believe."
That slipped out before I could stop it.
Silence.
Thick.
Heavy.
I held his gaze anyway.
Didn't look away.
Didn't back down.
Finally...
"Interesting," he said.
I didn't know if that was good or bad.
Didn't ask.
"He also required assistance shortly after," the King added.
I frowned slightly. "You know about that too?"
"I know more than you think."
Figures.
"He had a panic attack," I said simply.
"And you helped him."
"Yeah."
"After he assaulted you."
I shrugged again. "Didn't feel right leaving him like that."
The King studied me carefully.
Longer this time.
Like he was trying to figure out something that didn't quite fit.
"You're either very loyal," he said slowly, "or very foolish."
"Probably both."
That earned a faint, almost nonexistent shift in his expression.
Not quite a smile.
But close.
"You wish to leave."
The words came out of nowhere.
Straight to the point.
I blinked.
"...What?"
"You wish to return to your previous life."
I hesitated.
Because I hadn't said that out loud.
Not here.
Not to anyone in this place.
But...
Yeah.
I did.
"I didn't say that," I said carefully.
"You didn't need to."
I exhaled slowly.
"Yeah," I admitted. "I do."
"Why?"
I let out a quiet breath.
"Because it makes sense," I said. "Because it's mine. Because I understand it."
"And this?" he gestured vaguely around the room.
"This isn't mine," I said immediately.
Too fast.
Too honest.
But I didn't take it back.
"I don't belong here," I added.
The King didn't argue.
Didn't correct me.
Just watched.
"And yet," he said, "you remain."
"For now."
"Because of the money?"
"Partly."
"And the rest?"
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't have one I wanted to say.
He turned away slightly.
Moved toward a side door.
"Come," he said.
I frowned but followed.
Because when a King says "come," you don't really have a choice.
The room beyond was... unexpected.
Not another office.
Not another polished space.
A garage.
Clean.
Organized.
But still...
A garage.
And right in the center of it...
A motorcycle.
Sleek.
Black.
Perfect.
I stopped without meaning to.
"...No way."
The King watched my reaction carefully.
"You recognize it."
"Yeah," I said, stepping closer without thinking. "That's..."
Limited edition.
Rare.
Expensive as hell.
The kind of bike you don't just see in real life.
The kind you dream about if you're into racing like I am.
"You like it," he said.
"That's an understatement," I muttered.
I circled it slowly, taking in every detail.
Every line.
Every piece.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
"Yours," the King said.
I froze.
Then looked at him.
"...What?"
"It's yours."
"No, it's not."
"It is."
"I didn't earn this."
"You will."
"That's not how this works."
"It is now."
I shook my head slightly.
"This is a bribe."
"A gift."
"It's a bribe."
"A strategic incentive."
I huffed out a quiet laugh.
"Yeah, that's just a fancier word for bribe."
His expression didn't change.
"You wish to return to your old life," he said. "This is part of it, is it not?"
I looked back at the bike.
My bike.
No.
Not mine.
Couldn't be mine.
"Yeah," I admitted. "It is."
"And yet," he continued, "you're here."
I clenched my jaw
.
Because he wasn't wrong.
"Caelum is... difficult," the King said after a moment.
That was one way to put it.
"Yeah," I muttered.
"He has always been that way."
I frowned slightly.
There was something different in his tone now.
Less controlled.
Less... polished.
"Discipline was necessary," he continued.
I didn't like where this was going.
"Discipline?" I repeated.
"Control must be taught."
Something in my chest tightened.
"And how exactly did you teach it?" I asked.
He didn't answer right away.
Which was an answer enough.
"He needed to understand consequences," the King said finally.
I stared at him.
"By hitting him?"
Silence.
Then...
"Yes."
The word landed heavy.
Too heavy.
"And not just that," he added.
I didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Just listened.
Because something about this...
This wasn't just information.
This was...
Confession.
"Emotional pressure," he continued. "Isolation. Expectation without exception."
My stomach twisted.
"That's not discipline," I said quietly
.
"That is how rulers are made."
"No," I said, shaking my head slightly. "That's how you break someone."
His gaze sharpened.
"You think he is broken?"
"I think he doesn't know how to deal with anything that isn't control."
A pause.
Then...
"Perhaps," the King said.
Like it didn't matter.
Like it was just another observation.
Not a consequence of his own actions.
"And you?" he asked suddenly.
"What about me?"
"You stepped in."
I frowned. "For what?"
"For the panic."
I stiffened slightly.
"That wasn't about him," I said.
"No?"
"No," I repeated. "That was about me."
He watched me carefully.
"Explain."
I hesitated.
Because I didn't owe him that.
Didn't owe anyone that.
But...
He already knew too much.
"I've had them," I said finally. "Panic attacks."
"And no one assisted you."
It wasn't a question.
"No."
"So you chose differently."
"Yeah."
Silence settled.
Different this time.
Heavier.
More real.
"You are an interesting variable," the King said.
I snorted quietly. "That's one way to put it.
"You disrupt him."
"Good."
"That is not necessarily a positive outcome."
"I don't really care."
"I know."
He stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Just... present.
"Do you intend to leave?"
The question again.
Direct.
Unavoidable.
I looked at the bike.
Then back at him.
"I want to," I said honestly.
"And yet?"
"And yet..." I exhaled slowly. "I'm still here."
"Because of him?"
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't want to.
Because that answer...
Was complicated.
Too complicated.
"You may go," the King said finally.
Just like that.
Conversation over.
Like none of that just happened.
Like he didn't just...
I turned toward the door.
Paused.
Then...
"That bike," I said without looking back.
"Yes?"
"...I'll earn it."
A faint pause.
Then...
"I expect nothing less."
I walked out of that room with my head spinning.
Not from the bike.
Not from the offer.
From him.
From what he said.
From what he admitted.
And from the one thought that wouldn't leave me alone...
Caelum didn't just snap.
He was made that way.
And for the first time...
I didn't just feel angry at him.
I felt something else.
Something heavier.
Something I didn't want to name.