31. Rowan
Kai didn’t even bother greeting me properly.
He just said my name like it was already a problem.
“Rowan.”
I was still in the palace when he called.
Technically on duty.
Practically watching over Caelum’s wing from a distance like that counted as rest.
It didn’t.
Not really.
“What is it?” I asked quietly, stepping away from the corridor so my voice wouldn’t carry.
A pause.
Then...
“He’s back.”
That was enough to tighten something in my chest immediately.
“…Who?”
Kai sighed like I was being deliberately slow.
“My guess? You already know.”
I did.
But I still said it.
“Say it.”
“Sky River ,” he replied. “The one from the eastern circuits. He’s calling for a rematch.”
I exhaled slowly.
Of course he was.
Illegal circuits didn’t really care about timing.
They cared about ego.
And unfinished things.
“I’m not available,” I said immediately.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
“He’s been running your name through the underground,” Kai said.
“Saying you’re avoiding him.”
That made my jaw tighten slightly.
Not because it was true.
Because it was predictable.
“He’s trying to provoke me,” I said.
“Yes,” Kai replied simply. “And it’s working.”
Silence.
I glanced down the corridor toward Caelum’s wing.
Still.
Quiet.
He was asleep again earlier when I checked.
Or at least pretending to be.
That wasn’t my concern right now.
It should have been.
But it wasn’t.
“When?” I asked.
Kai hesitated.
Then...
“Tonight.”
Of course.
I closed my eyes briefly.
Not frustration.
Just calculation.
“I said I’m not available,” I repeated.
“And I said he’s calling you out,” Kai replied. “Publicly. If you don’t show, it becomes bigger than a race.”
That part mattered.
Not because I cared about reputation.
But because reputation leads to attention.
Attention leads to exposure.
Exposure leads to people asking questions I don’t want anyone asking about Caelum.
“…Where?” I asked finally.
Kai gave me the location.
I memorised it immediately.
No hesitation.
No writing it down.
Just locked it in.
Then I ended the call.
For a few seconds, I just stood there.
Listening to the palace again.
Its silence.
Its control.
Its constant pretending that nothing beneath it was ever unstable.
I should have gone back to Caelum.
I knew that.
That was the correct decision.
That was the safe decision.
That was the one that didn’t complicate anything already too complicated.
But I didn’t move toward his room.
I moved toward the exit instead.
Sneaking out wasn’t difficult.
It never was.
People think palaces are secure because they’re guarded.
They forget the simplest truth.
Security systems don’t stop people who already know where they fail.
The city at night felt sharper than usual.
Colder.
Like it was waiting for something to break.
Or someone.
The circuit wasn’t official.
It never was.
Just a strip of abandoned industrial road outside the city perimeter where people pretended laws didn’t apply if they moved fast enough.
The air smelled like fuel and dust when I arrived.
Familiar.
Uncomfortable.
Honest.
They were already there.
Of course they were.
Crowd gathered in loose clusters.
Engines idling.
Eyes sharp.
Everyone pretending this wasn’t about violence dressed as sport.
He was waiting at the far end.
My rival, Sky River
Leaning against his bike like he owned the night.
He saw me arrive and smiled immediately.
Too wide.
Too satisfied.
“Thought you wouldn’t show,” he called out.
I didn’t respond.
Just walked toward my bike.
“You’ve been busy,” he added. “Royal guard duties treating you well?”
A few laughs from the crowd.
Not loud.
But enough.
I ignored them.
Checked my bike.
Adjusted what needed adjusting.
He moved closer slightly.
“Still think you’re better than this?”
I finally looked at him.
“Race,” I said simply.
That shut him up long enough.
We lined up.
Engines revving.
Air tightening.
The world narrowing down to distance and speed and control.
And then...
go.
Everything became motion.
Noise dropped away immediately.
Thoughts narrowed.
Reflex took over.
This was always the part that made sense.
Not because it was easy.
Because it was honest.
No politics.
No crowns.
No silence pretending to be stability.
Just outcome.
We pushed hard.
Too hard.
He was good.
Better than I remembered.
But not better than me.
The circuit blurred into lines of light and friction.
My body moved before thought could interfere.
That was the point.
That was why I did this.
By the final stretch, I was ahead.
Clean.
Controlled.
No unnecessary risk.
Just execution.
I crossed the line first.
No hesitation.
No celebration.
Just stopping.
The crowd reacted.
Louder than expected.
But it didn’t matter.
It never did.
He pulled up beside me a few seconds later.
Breathing heavier.
Frustrated.
For a moment, I expected anger.
Or denial.
Or something performative.
Instead, he just laughed.
Short.
Sharp.
“Still the same,” he said.
I didn’t respond.
He studied me for a second.
Then...
“You could’ve crushed me,” he added. “But you didn’t.”
That made me pause slightly.
He held out something.
The prize envelope.
I looked at it.
Then at him.
“Take it,” he said.
I didn’t move.
“You won,” he added. “But I don’t think you actually came here for the win.”
That was closer to truth than I liked.
I took the envelope.
Held it for a moment.
Then...
handed it back.
His expression shifted.
Confused.
“You’re joking.”
“No,” I said.
A pause.
“You’re getting soft,” he muttered.
I didn’t correct him.
Because that wasn’t worth arguing about.
I left before he could say anything else.
The ride back was quieter.
Not externally.
Internally.
Because something had shifted.
Not about the race.
About everything after it.
Winning didn’t feel like anything anymore.
Not in the way it used to.
It just felt… finished.
And emptier than it should have.
On the way back into the city, I stopped at the same place I had taken Caelum before.
The burger place.
Still open.
Still loud.
Still normal in a way nothing in my life was.
I bought two meals.
Same order.
Same packaging.
Same routine.
The cashier didn’t recognise me.
That part still worked.
On the ride back to the palace, I kept the bags steady against my chest.
Like they mattered.
Like they were important.
Which was ridiculous.
And I knew it.
But I still didn’t stop.
By the time I reached the palace gates, the sky was beginning to soften.
Not morning yet.
But close enough.
I slipped back in the same way I left.
No noise.
No attention.
Caelum’s wing was still quiet.
I stopped outside his door for a moment.
Just standing there.
Holding food like it meant something more than it did.
Then I exhaled slowly.
And set it down carefully just outside his room where he would see it when he woke.
I didn’t go in.
Didn’t wake him.
Didn’t explain.
Just left it there.
Like maybe, for once, something simple could exist between everything that wasn’t.
And as I walked away down the corridor, I realised something I didn’t say out loud.
Not even to myself.
Winning the race didn’t matter.
This did.