Chapter 11
Hours later, the sound of a fist pounding on wood jerked Hal from dreams of Jakob's hands. His heart raced as voices echoed through the senior dormitory's hallway, bouncing off the high stone walls.
"Cadet Lieutenant Vasa, open this door immediately.
" The Commandant's stern voice carried the weight of authority that made even Hal's spine straighten.
He slipped from his bed, the cold floor shocking his bare feet as he moved to his own door.
The metal handle felt like ice against his palm as he eased it open just enough to peer through.
Christian stood in the hallway in his sleeping clothes, his usually neat hair disheveled.
The Commandant's presence filled the narrow space, his ceremonial sword glinting in the early morning light.
"I came to discuss the ribbons for tomorrow's ceremony, but I heard...
noises." The older man's mouth twisted in distaste. "Open your door, Cadet Lieutenant."
Hal's breath caught as Christian's door creaked open.
Rachel Eliasberg stood wrapped in nothing but Christian's bedsheet, her dark curls wild around her face.
Her eyes met Hal's through the crack in his door, wide with terror.
The sheet twisted in her white-knuckled grip as she tried to make herself smaller against the doorframe.
The Commandant's face flushed red, starting at his collar and creeping up to his receding hairline.
Christian maintained his usual air of superiority, but Hal caught the slight tremor in his cousin's hands.
Jakob's sister. Christian had Jakob's sister in his bed.
Hal's mind raced with horrifying possibilities—had Christian forced her?
Manipulated her? The girl was barely seventeen.
His stomach churned as bile rose in his throat, the memory of Jakob's warm weight in his arms just hours before making the violation feel even more personal.
Whatever game Christian was playing with the Eliasbergs, he'd just dragged them all into it.
Hal's fingers tightened on the door handle as Rachel's chin lifted, her dark eyes flashing with the same defiance he'd seen in Jakob during tactical debates. "It's not what you think, sir! Christian and I are in love. We've been seeing each other for weeks now."
The Commandant's already ruddy face darkened further. "Love? A cadet lieutenant and a..." He caught himself, jaw working. "Miss Eliasberg, I don't think you realize the severity of this situation."
Christian's laugh cut through the tension, harsh and dismissive.
"Sir, this is ridiculous. The girl's developed some romantic fantasy.
" His posture remained unchanged, but Hal noticed the slight tremor in his cousin's hands.
"She's been following me around campus, leaving notes.
I should have reported it earlier, but I didn't want to cause trouble for the laundry staff. "
Rachel's face crumpled, the sheet slipping from her shoulder before she caught it. "Christian, what are you saying? You told me you loved me. You said—"
"I've never said anything of the sort." Christian's voice carried that familiar edge of cruel amusement that always made Hal's skin crawl. "She must have broken in while I was sleeping. I woke to find her here."
The Commandant's hand tightened on his sword hilt. "That's quite enough, Cadet Lieutenant. Do you take me for a fool?" His voice dropped dangerously low. "I've served at this academy for twenty-seven years. I know the difference between a break-in and an invitation."
Christian's carefully constructed mask slipped for just a moment, revealing something ugly beneath. "Sir, surely you don't believe—"
"What I believe, Cadet Lieutenant, is that you have violated every principle of honor this academy stands for.
" The Commandant's words cracked like rifle shots in the narrow hallway.
"Taking advantage of a young woman's virtue, then attempting to destroy her reputation to save yourself?
The Board of Governors will hear about this today. "
Hal watched his cousin's face drain of color. "Sir, please. My uncle—the King—"
"I am sure that His Majesty will be especially interested to hear how his nephew has brought shame upon the Royal Family."
Christian's laugh turned even colder. "Come now, sir.
What kind of loving brother would allow his precious little sister anywhere near someone like me?
" His eyes glittered with malice as he twisted the knife.
"Unless, of course, Cadet Eliasberg orchestrated this himself.
A clever way to compromise a member of the royal family, wouldn't you say? "
Hal's stomach churned. Rachel stood frozen, the sheet slipping further as tears tracked down her cheeks. Behind other doors, he could hear the rustle of awakening cadets, drawn by the commotion.
The Commandant's face darkened to a dangerous purple. "You dare suggest that one of our most promising cadets would use his own sister in such a manner?" His knuckles whitened on his sword hilt. "Your attempts to deflect responsibility only compound your disgrace, Cadet Lieutenant."
More doors creaked open along the hallway. Rachel tried to wrap the sheet tighter, but it had become tangled around her feet. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she stood exposed before the growing crowd, Christian's cruel words still hanging in the air.
Hal couldn't bear it anymore. He stepped into the hallway, keeping his voice steady despite the rage coursing through him. "Sir, permission to assist the young lady?" Without waiting for an answer, he shrugged off his own dressing gown and held it out to her.
"Granted," the Commandant barked, turning his glare back to Christian. "And you will remain at attention until I decide what to do with you."
Rachel clutched Hal's robe like a lifeline, her fingers trembling as she wrapped it around herself. Hal placed himself between her and the growing crowd of spectators. "Miss Eliasberg, please allow me to escort you to my quarters where you can dress properly."
Christian's mouth twisted. "How gallant of you, cousin. Taking up where your friend left off?"
The Commandant's hand cracked across Christian's face before Hal could respond. "One more word, Cadet Lieutenant, and you'll be in the stockade before sunrise."
Hal guided Rachel to his room, careful not to touch her beyond offering his steady arm.
Once inside, he immediately went to his trunk and pulled out the grey wool sweater he'd borrowed from Jakob for farm chores weeks ago.
The fabric felt rough against his fingers, carrying memories of mud and honest labor that seemed a world away from the crisis unfolding in his dormitory.
"Here," he said softly, turning his back to give her privacy.
"It was your father's, I think." Behind him, he heard the rustle of fabric and a choked sob as Rachel recognized the sweater, and his heart ached for both siblings caught in Christian's cruel game.
The wood creaked beneath his feet as he crossed to the small washstand.
The crystal water pitcher—a gift from his mother—caught the early morning light as he poured a glass and handed it to Rachel without looking at her directly.
"Did he hurt you?" The question scraped from his throat, raw and urgent. "Because if he did—"
"No." Rachel's voice cracked as she clutched the glass with both hands.
The water trembled, catching the light. "He was always such a gentleman.
He brought me flowers and told me I was beautiful and—" A sob tore through her words.
"How could he say those things about me?
About Jakob?" She gulped the water, shoulders shaking beneath the too-large sweater. "Last night he said that he loved me."
Hal perched awkwardly on the edge of his desk, giving her space while keeping his gaze steady on the floor between them.
The weight of responsibility pressed down on his shoulders.
This wasn't just about Rachel or Christian anymore—this was about Jakob too, about the twisted game his cousin was playing with all of them.
"Christian has always been..." Hal chose his words carefully, remembering the poisonous whispers in the palace hallways, the calculated cruelty masked by charm.
"He's not what he seems, Rachel. He shows people what they want to see.
" He risked a glance at her tear-stained face. "I'm sorry he hurt you."
Rachel wiped her nose with her sleeve—her father's sleeve—in a gesture so reminiscent of her brother that Hal's heart twisted painfully in his chest. "I thought I could handle him," she whispered.
"I'm not stupid, you know. I knew he liked me because I was Jakob's sister.
I thought... I thought I could change his mind.
" A bitter laugh escaped her. "I told myself I was being clever, but he was playing me the whole time. "
The confession sat between them, raw and painful.
Hal wanted to tell her that he understood, that he too had been drawn in by the possibility of connection, of being seen.
But the words stuck in his throat, too personal, too revealing.
Instead, he offered her his handkerchief, the embroidered royal crest a stark reminder of the world that separated them.
A knock at the door made them both jump. He opened the door a cautious few inches to find Stensson standing in the hallway, his usually relaxed expression replaced by tight-lipped concern.
"The Commandant wants you in his office immediately, Your Highness," Stensson said, his eyes flicking past Hal to Rachel's huddled form. "He said it's urgent."
Hal nodded, turning back to Rachel. "Will you be all right until I can send someone for Jakob and your mother?" He kept his voice gentle, as though speaking to a wounded animal. "I'll make sure they come quickly."