The expectation on Harry's face when he turns around makes Kael's stomach twist.
He watches Harry turn to face him, and for a moment, he's struck by the shift in his expression.
A quiet vulnerability and anticipation that wasn't present before. Harry looks like he's been waiting for this.
Kael feels the weight of that gaze, the silent expectation pressing in, and suddenly the hand in his own feels too warm, too real.
Maybe Harry thinks this touch, this closeness, is finally something it's not.
Kael hadn't meant to give that impression. He draws his hand back, not because he wants to, but because he sees the flicker of hope beginning to bloom in Harry's eyes, and he doesn't know how to face it.
Not when it was never meant for him.
He slightly steps back, the space between them stretches awkwardly in the silence that follows.
His heart races, and he hates that Harry notices.
There's a flicker of disappointment in Harry's expression when Kael let's go of his wrist.
Kael's mind is already in chaos. -- Harry loves Darien. There's no question about that anymore.
There's weight behind it, something Kael can't ignore. And even though he tells himself it doesn't matter, it's been itching at the back of his mind.
Did they have a thing? Was it something real? Or was it just quiet longing? The same kind he used to have for Eryx back then.
He clears his throat and speaks before the silence gets heavier. "I wanted to tell you... I..." He stumbles, but then continues firmly, "Don't go tomorrow. Don't face Eryx with the intention of making him pay. That man's insane. You might think you're ready, but he's unpredictable."
Harry's head tilts slightly. His brows knit. "How do you know about that?"
"I was there," Kael says quickly. "I heard them report about your letter. The one you sent to him." His voice drops a little. "Please. Don't do it."
Harry looks at him for a long moment, and something cold settles in Kael's chest.
"I already made up my mind," He says, voice low and final. "He received the letter. It's happening."
Then he turns without another word and walks away, his boots quiet against the stone corridor.
Kael calls after him, but Harry doesn't stop. He keeps walking until the shadows swallow him completely.
Kael stands there, fists clenched. "Why do I care?" he mutters to himself. "If he wants to go, let him. Not my business."
But the lie is obvious even to himself. It's a flimsy cover for the sinking feeling in his gut. The thought of Harry not being in the palace.
It sits wrong. He can't imagine this place without him, since he is the only person he's been interacting with.
--
Standing there, he thinks. If Harry is going to confront Eryx, he won't let him do it alone.
He refuses to stand by and watch Eryx wear that smirk of arrogant victory again.
There's no wasting time anymore.
He strips off the servant's uniform and pulls on Darien's old warrior gear. It fits him, it should, it's his body.
The fabric molds to his frame, familiar and solid, a stark contrast to how foreign everything else feels lately.
He tightens the straps, checks the blade at his side, then climbs through the window, dropping to the ground quietly.
Outside, the guards are asleep again. Just like the last time.
He doesn't even try to hold back this time. He storms off toward the well, fills a bucket with water, and marches back, throwing it at them without ceremony.
They jolt upright, coughing and sputtering. "Is it raining?" one mutters groggily, rubbing at his eyes.
"Yeah, you bet it is," Kael snaps. "Why are you sleeping on duty?!"
They stare at him like they've just seen a ghost, too confused or too lazy to process his tone. He grits his teeth. No matter how much he sharpens his voice, it still sounds wrong, weak, light. Darien's voice. Ugh!
He tries again, "Oh? You didn't hear me?" he presses, stepping closer. "I asked, why are you asleep at your post?"
One of the guards frowns. "Why are you out at this hour?"
Kael almost laughs. "Wow. I'm asking you something and you throw that back at me?" His patience snaps.
What can he do to be taken seriously? Report them to the king? That man barely sees his son as anything but a shadow. He'd probably humiliate him for even trying.
Kael glares at the guards, rounds them once with narrowed eyes, and then walks away, heading toward the open field.
He forces himself to push aside the frustration. It doesn't matter. He has bigger things to focus on. Like strengthening this body. Like preparing for what he swears he will accomplish.
He wraps the handle of his sword tightly with cloth, just in case Eryx ever sees it and recognizes it.
He pauses in the field, staring at the empty space ahead. He has knowledge, the technique, the strategies, but the body is weak.
Too weak to execute any of it with real power. It will take time, but he knows where to start.
Endurance.
He starts running laps around the field. Slow, steady, focused.
But his breath grows short too quickly. His legs burn. His head starts to spin. His vision blurs at the edges, and before he hits the ground, someone catches him.
This time he doesn't need to look to know who it is.
Harry lowers him gently and kneels in front of him, he is wearing his training gear, sweat clinging to his hair and skin. He looks exhausted. Must've been out here for hours already.
He doesn't speak at first, like he's trying to find the right words.
Kael doesn't wait. "I hate that I'm this weak."
Harry blinks. His expression readily softening. "You know... I've been wondering. You've been different lately-- you are really trying harder. I mean, why are you trying so hard lately? Being independent, going extra miles, pretending you are fine when I can literary tell you are not, something is bothering you inside, risking entering danger and so many other things. And... It's fine if you don't want to share."
"I want to bring Ironvale to its knees," Kael says, voice low but unwavering. He then looks away. "I know that sounds crazy, especially coming from someone in my state, but I don't care. I'm going to change it."
His nails dig into his palm without realizing it. The words come out faster now, a momentum building in his chest. "I'll bring Ironvale down. I swear it."
Harry goes quiet for a moment, looking at him his expression totally unreadable. His voice is quieter as he finally speaks, "I want the same thing."