28. Caelum
Rowan didn't start with emotion.
He never did.
That was part of what made him dangerous in ways people underestimated.
He started with facts.
Clean.
Unavoidable.
Unsentimental.
Like the truth was something you could hold in your hands if you just stopped shaking long enough.
"I found something," he said.
We were in my room.
Late.
The palace had gone quiet in that way it always did when it pretended no one inside it was awake anymore.
Even the guards outside my doors felt further away tonight.
I looked up from where I was sitting.
"Go on."
He hesitated for half a second.
Not uncertainty.
More like calculation.
Then he spoke.
"I went to your uncle's office."
That alone made something in me shift.
Slightly.
Not panic.
Not fear.
Just awareness sharpening.
"And?" I asked.
"I found documents," he said.
Pause.
"About the royal family."
My jaw tightened almost instinctively.
Not outward.
Just internal.
Controlled.
"That's not unusual," I said.
"It is when your father and your uncle are missing from every record."
Silence.
The air in the room changed.
I felt it before I fully processed it.
Like something behind my ribs had gone still.
"...What?" I asked quietly.
Rowan didn't soften it.
He never softened anything he thought mattered.
"No lineage files. No governance history. No official tracking records for either of them in the same archive system they use for you."
I stood up without realising I had moved.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like sudden movement would make the truth worse.
"That's impossible," I said.
"It isn't," he replied.
My hands curled slightly at my sides.
Not shaking.
Not yet.
"You're mistaken," I said.
"I'm not."
That certainty again.
That frustrating, grounded certainty that he only used when he knew he was right.
I turned away from him.
Because looking at him made it harder to pretend I could restructure this into something manageable.
"Show me," I said.
"I didn't bring them."
My head snapped slightly toward him.
"Why not?"
"Because I didn't want you seeing them like that alone."
That made me pause.
It shouldn't have mattered.
It did.
I exhaled slowly.
Controlled.
Measured.
The way I always did when something threatened to become too large inside me.
"This is a mistake," I said.
But it didn't sound convincing even to me.
Rowan stepped closer slightly.
Not invading space.
Just closing distance enough to be heard properly.
"It's not just the documents," he said quietly.
I looked at him.
"There's something being erased," he added. "Or hidden. Either way, your family history isn't complete. Not in the official records."
A pause.
"And that doesn't happen by accident in a system like this."
Silence.
I felt it then.
Not understanding.
Not fully.
Just...
pressure.
Like something I had built my entire identity around had started to loosen at the edges.
"That doesn't make sense," I said again.
Quieter this time.
Less certain.
Rowan didn't respond immediately.
Just watched me.
And I hated that he was watching.
Because it meant I wasn't hiding this as well as I thought I was.
My mother's face flashed in my mind.
Uninvited.
Uncontrolled.
Then my sister.
Then the hallway.
Then noise.
Then silence.
My breathing tightened slightly.
I turned away again.
Because I didn't want him to see that.
"That's not possible," I repeated, but it came out weaker.
"It is," he said.
Soft this time.
Not forcing it.
Just stating it.
And something in me cracked slightly at that tone.
Not the words.
The restraint.
Because Rowan didn't lie to soften things.
And he didn't exaggerate.
Which meant...
I sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed.
Not gracefully.
Not controlled.
Just...
sudden.
My hands pressed into my knees.
Like I was trying to hold myself in place.
"I don't understand," I said quietly.
And that was worse than anything else.
Rowan didn't move immediately.
Then he did something I wasn't expecting.
He came closer.
Sat down beside me.
Not too close.
But closer than before.
And then...
he put a hand on my shoulder.
Steady.
Grounding.
It should have felt wrong.
It didn't.
"I know," he said quietly.
That was it.
Not explanation.
Not solution.
Just acknowledgment.
And something about that...
about not being forced to immediately fix it...
made everything inside me collapse slightly.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just...
release.
My breath hitched once.
Then again.
I didn't even realise I was crying at first.
Not properly.
Just... breaking in small, controlled fragments I couldn't stop.
My hand moved up instinctively toward my face.
Like I could erase it.
Like I could correct it.
Rowan caught my wrist gently before I could.
Not forceful.
Just stopping the motion.
"Don't," he said quietly.
That single word did something worse than the truth had.
Because it wasn't dismissal.
It wasn't correction.
It was permission to stop fighting it.
And that was what broke me fully.
The tears came harder then.
Silent at first.
Then harder.
Not elegant.
Not royal.
Just...
human.
I turned my head slightly away, like that would help.
It didn't.
Rowan didn't say anything else.
He just moved closer and pulled me into him carefully.
Not trapping.
Not forcing.
Just...
holding.
And I hated how quickly my body accepted it.
How fast something in me stopped resisting.
My forehead pressed against his shoulder before I realised I had moved.
My hands clenched lightly in his shirt.
Like I needed something solid to exist against.
"I don't understand any of this," I said quietly.
Voice breaking slightly between words.
"I know," he repeated.
Still steady.
Still there.
We stayed like that for a while.
I don't know how long.
Time didn't feel like it mattered properly anymore.
At some point, my breathing started to slow again.
Not fully calm.
But no longer breaking apart.
Rowan's hand moved slowly once over my back.
A simple motion.
Repetitive.
Anchoring.
It didn't stop properly.
That was the problem.
The crying slowed. My breathing steadied. My hands stopped shaking against Rowan's shirt.
But something inside me didn't settle with it.
It stayed loose. Unanchored. Like the truth he had told me had pulled something open that didn't want to close again.
Rowan still sat beside me.
Still present.
Still too real.
And I was suddenly aware of everything again.
The room. The silence. The palace outside these walls. The idea that my entire history might be... incomplete.
That thought hit harder the longer I sat with it.
Not like grief.
Like falling.
"I don't understand," I said again, quieter this time.
Not to him.
To myself.
Rowan didn't answer immediately.
That should have helped.
It didn't.
Because silence gave my mind space.
And my mind was the worst place to leave anything unattended.
My chest tightened slightly.
I noticed it, but I didn't think much of it at first.
Just stress.
Just emotion.
Just...
too much.
But then it happened again.
That shift.
Not external.
Internal.
Like something inside my body had decided it didn't agree with staying calm anymore.
My breath caught.
Once.
Then didn't fully return.
I blinked slowly.
"Rowan," I said, but it came out tighter than I intended.
He turned immediately.
That was what he always did.
Immediate awareness.
No delay.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I..."
I stopped.
Because suddenly I couldn't finish the sentence.
My lungs felt wrong.
Not painful.
Just... insufficient.
Like they weren't doing what I was telling them to do.
I inhaled again.
Harder.
It didn't help.
My fingers curled into the bedsheet without me telling them to.
My heartbeat sharpened in my ears.
Too loud.
Too fast.
Too present.
Rowan shifted closer instantly.
"Hey...Caelum. Look at me."
I tried.
I did.
But my vision felt slightly unstable at the edges.
Not dark.
Just... too much input.
Too fast.
"I can't..." I started.
Then stopped again.
Because I didn't know what I couldn't do.
That was the problem.
Nothing was defined properly anymore.
Everything was just happening at once.
Rowan's voice dropped slightly.
Slower now.
Controlled.
"The panic's back," he said quietly.
Not a question.
A recognition.
I shook my head once.
"I'm fine."
Even to me, it sounded wrong.
"No," he said gently. "You're not."
My chest tightened further at that.
Because he was right.
And I hated that he was right again.
I tried to stand.
Instinct.
Escape.
Movement always fixed things.
Movement always meant control.
My legs didn't cooperate properly.
I caught myself immediately on the edge of the bed.
Fingers gripping too tightly.
"Don't move," Rowan said quickly.
"I need to..."
"You don't."
His voice wasn't sharp.
Just firm.
Anchoring.
But my body didn't listen.
It never did in moments like this.
At least Not fully.
My breathing sped up.
I could feel it now.
Each inhale too shallow.
Each exhale not finishing properly.
My thoughts started fragmenting again.
Not memories this time.
Just...
noise.
Too many directions.
Too many meanings attaching themselves to everything at once.
"The records," I said suddenly, breath uneven.
"Are you sure..."
"Caelum," Rowan interrupted softly.
I stopped.
Not because I wanted to.
Because something in his tone cut through the spiral just enough to register.
"Stay with me," he said.
That should have been simple.
It wasn't.
Because part of me was no longer fully inside the present moment.
Part of me was already back in that hallway again.
That moment I barely remembered but never truly lost.
That moment where things changed and I never got to decide how I felt about it properly.
My hand pressed harder into the bed.
My breathing hitched again.
Rowan moved closer without hesitation.
This time, he didn't wait for permission.
He guided me gently back down to sit.
Not forcing.
Just preventing collapse.
"Focus on my voice," he said.
"I am," I lied immediately.
"No, you're not."
No judgment.
Just fact.
That made something in me crack again.
Because he was right.
Again.
Always right.
My chest tightened further.
My vision blurred slightly at the edges again.
Not darkness.
Just instability.
"I can't-" I tried again.
But my voice broke halfway through.
Rowan shifted in front of me.
Close enough now that I couldn't avoid him even if I tried.
Not overwhelming.
Just present.
"Breathe with me," he said quietly.
I shook my head.
"I am breathing."
"No," he corrected gently. "You're surviving. Not breathing."
That landed harder than it should have.
My lungs seized slightly at the words.
My hands trembled again.
Just a little.
Then more.
Rowan reached for my hand.
Held it.
Firm.
Grounded.
"Copy me," he said.
I didn't respond.
But I watched him.
Because I didn't have anything else to hold onto that made sense.
He inhaled slowly.
Deliberately.
Not exaggerated.
Just controlled.
Then exhaled.
Same pace.
Same rhythm.
"Try," he said.
I tried.
It didn't work immediately.
My body resisted like it didn't trust the instruction.
"Again," he said.
So I did.
Not perfectly.
But closer.
And again.
My chest started to loosen slightly.
Not fully.
But enough that the edges of panic didn't feel like they were closing in quite as fast.
Rowan didn't let go of my hand.
Didn't move away.
Just stayed there with me through it.
Minutes passed like that.
Or seconds.
Or something in between.
Time didn't behave properly during this.
Eventually, my breathing stopped breaking.
Still uneven.
But functional.
My grip on the bed loosened slightly.
My shoulders dropped a fraction.
Rowan didn't comment.
Just watched me carefully.
"Better," he said quietly.
I didn't answer immediately.
Because my voice still didn't feel reliable.
But after a moment-
"I hate this," I admitted.
He didn't ask what I meant.
He already knew.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I know."
Silence returned.
But it wasn't the same silence as before.
This one didn't feel like it was waiting to collapse.
Just resting.
Eventually, I looked at him properly.
And for the first time since everything started unraveling tonight...
I didn't feel like I was doing it alone.