Chapter 52 #2
Let them wonder just how strong it might become.
T hat evening, Alarik was summoned to inspect a nearby military outpost with Captain Marzius, assessing its readiness amid growing concerns over bandit raids on caravans transporting water to the north. He wouldn’t return until late at night.
Kaelen, meanwhile, had sequestered himself in his study after meeting Zahalyar’s leaders, fully absorbed in drafting the crucial tax proposal to fund the aqueduct expansion to alleviate recurring droughts.
His focus was unwavering, but so was his tendency to neglect basic needs when deep in work.
Reiya made her way to his study. Just outside the door, her gaze drifted to the sideboard, where a tray of spiced tea sat untouched beside honey cakes gone stale.
That wouldn’t do.
She went to the kitchen, instructing the staff to prepare a heartier offering: an assortment of savoury and sweet pastries, ripe figs and dates, cold roasted lamb, soft cheese, and warm flatbreads. She had them steep fresh tea, too, and a carafe of cool lemon-infused water for balance.
She delivered the tray herself. If Kaelen insisted on working himself to exhaustion, the least she could do was ensure he did so with nourishments.
He stood the moment she appeared at the doorway.
“Reiya, what a delightful surprise.” His golden eyes warmed as he strode forward, easing the tray from her hands.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, smiling up at him. “I only wanted to make sure you’re properly fed and watered.”
Kaelen chuckled, setting the tray on the low table near his desk. “Nonsense. You could never be a disturbance.”
“Only a welcome distraction?”
A playful glint appeared in his eyes. “A most welcome distraction.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “One I hope you’ll indulge me with as often as you wish.”
He returned to the parchment as she poured tea and arranged their meal. The warm early evening light streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the polished table. She handed him a cup and a plate before settling opposite him.
“How’s the proposal coming along?” she asked, lifting her cup.
Raking a hand through his hair, he sighed. “It’s moving slower than I’d like. Convincing merchants to part with their coin, even for their own benefit, is about as easy as convincing a cat to swim.”
“They don’t want to pay at all,” she guessed, popping a slice of fig into her mouth.
“Not if they can wriggle out of it. They grumble about fairness, swear their margins are stretched thin—even though half of them could pave their courtyards with gold. But they know the truth. If the villages collapse, so does their silk trade. ”
“You offered them a place at the table to oversee the project. How did they respond?”
He smirked, though no humour touched his eyes. “Some relish the thought of shaping Asadia’s fate. Others? They’d rather bleed the coffers dry today and let tomorrow fend for itself.”
“Short-sighted,” she murmured, “but not unexpected. Have you considered offering them something in return? A way to make them feel like they’re gaining, not just giving?”
Kaelen arched a brow. “And what would you propose?”
Reiya set down her cup with a quiet click.
“Royal favour for all who contribute—small or great. But a tiered system would serve you better: the larger the gift, the greater the reward. Exclusive rights to coveted wares once the aqueduct is complete, for example. And for the highest patrons, first claim to the prime trade routes.”
His expression sharpened—thoughtful, appraising. Slowly, a grin curved his mouth. “How cunning.”
Reiya tilted her head, a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. “It’s the same strategy, only dressed in finer cloth. But now, they’ll believe the advantage is theirs.”
Kaelen huffed a laugh and reached for a plump grape. “But you make it sound effortless.”
“It is effortless. People, even merchants, want to feel special. Set apart. You’re merely giving them what they secretly crave.”
His fingers brushed lightly against hers on the table. “You read the marrow of things, Sáel,” Kaelen murmured. “You should come to the next council meeting and present the proposal yourself.”
Reiya’s lips lifted, surprise melting into tenderness. “Your council would’ve adored that.”
She meant it lightly, but the warmth blooming in her chest ran deeper. So many men she knew—her father’s councillors, the noble lords of Aethonia—had nodded politely at her ideas only to twist or claim them as their own.
But Kaelen hadn’t done that. He hadn’t tried to take credit or quiet her voice because he felt threatened. He wanted her beside him—not only in his bed, not only in the privacy of whispered moments, but in politics. In power .
Not as an ornament, but as a true partner.
“The councillors will have little choice,” he said firmly, his gaze holding hers. “We’re fortunate you stand beside us.”
Her fingers slipped to curl around his. “As I am, with you.”
Even in silence, the lightness between them lingered, but beneath it, her thoughts pulled in another direction. She traced the rim of her cup, steadying herself before speaking.
“There’s something else I wanted to discuss.” The slight shift in her tone caught his attention. “It’s about my visit to the temple earlier.”
Kaelen placed his plate on the desk, concern flickering across his face. “I was worried when I heard you were going.”
She recounted the moment on the promenade—the fleeting glimpse of copper hair, her instincts screaming Castiel’s name, and his immediate disappearance.
“Captain Marzius dispatched men to search the area and issued additional precautions,” she concluded. “But they haven’t found anyone matching Castiel’s description.”
His eyes flashed with worry as he reached for her hand, his grip warm and steady. “You did the right thing, telling Marzius. I’ll discuss with him later to see what else can be done.”
Reiya searched his face, noting the tension in his jaw despite his reassuring tone. “Do you think it was truly Castiel?”
He hesitated, golden eyes meeting hers with a raw honesty that both soothed and unsettled her. “I can’t say for certain. But if it was, we won’t allow him to come near you.”
He opened his arms, and she crossed the space between them, slipping into his lap without pause. His arms tightened around her, steady as a shield.
“You are safe here,” he murmured against her hair. “We’ll keep watch on all that stirs. Until we’re certain Mezerin is secure, I’d ask you to remain within the palace walls.”
She melted into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Missing out on the city’s delights was disappointing, but necessary. Besides, Turasid had its own diversions to keep her occupied.
“Thank you,” she whispered, fingers curling lightly at the nape of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent .
“Always. Anything else transpire at the temple? Did Anna?s behave herself, or should I ready myself for whispers at court?”
Reiya let out a quiet laugh, the tension easing from her shoulders. “She was courteous enough, though she took great pleasure in reminding me of her . . . history with you and Alarik.”
“Let me guess—barbs wrapped in silk?”
“Something like that. A feeble attempt to stir jealousy, but I saw through it.”
“Of course you did,” Kaelen murmured, a warm note threading his voice. “You’ve already bested her in ways she scarcely understands. That unnerves her far more than she’ll ever admit.”
Reiya’s lips curved faintly, but her thoughts remained heavy. Anna?s was a puzzle she wasn’t sure she wanted to solve—but one she certainly couldn’t ignore.
“She’s . . . difficult to read,” she admitted softly. “Everything feels measured. Yet now and then, something genuine slips through—like she’s letting her guard fall, if only for a moment.”
Kaelen gave a quiet scoff. “That scarcely sounds like the Anna?s I’ve known.”
“It caught me off guard as well. But . . . there was a moment when it felt as though I were speaking to someone ensnared. Like an Omega merely trying to endure.”
He leaned back, his gaze intent upon her. “You see yourself in her?”
She hesitated. “It’s hard not to recognize the shape of something familiar. We both know what it is to be treated as something to be managed, controlled. And I wonder if, beneath all her schemes, she’s simply . . . surviving the only way she knows.”
His golden eyes softened, though his voice held steady. “Perhaps. But survival does not excuse all things. You’ve faced the same burdens—and yet you never let them unmake you.”
She drew a quiet breath. “I don’t trust her—I’d be a fool to—but I cannot turn a blind eye to how the world weighs against Omegas. How it can twist some of us into what we were never meant to become.”
His hand moved in slow, steady circles along her back, a quiet anchor. “You’re not wrong, Sáel. But guard your heart. Understanding must never soften into pardon. She may be a creature of circumstance—but that makes her no less perilous.”
Reiya lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “I know,” she whispered, “and I won’t forget.”
They sat together in silence for a moment.
She observed how his tousled golden hair caught the light, a faint glow framing his face.
Though he was only a handful of years older than her, the quiet strength in him was unmistakable.
Her eyes traced the faint scar along his left temple; a small imperfection that only made him more striking.
Shadows softened the sharp line of his jaw, where the faintest stubble of a beard hinted at a ruggedness contrasting with his usual charm.
Here, in the solitude of his study, slightly rumpled and away from prying eyes, Kaelen seemed more man than Sunborn Alpha.