[BL] Rules Of Desire: His Majesty's Secret-Chapter 29 - 27: L.S.N. What’s Mine to Keep

Ronan leaned against a marble pillar, arms crossed as he watched Hale bolt from the hall like a man set ablaze. The light from the chandeliers caught the sweat glistening on Hale’s skin, his form disappearing down the corridor with urgency written in every line of his body.

Ronan’s smirk faltered, replaced by something quieter. Something close to envy.

"So it’s not one-sided after all," he murmured to himself, eyes narrowed. "I love it."

Then he sighed.

Still... this is a dangerous road. Hale’s walking into his destruction. Their love story is already doomed before it even begins.

Hale stood before the large door to Kaelith’s private chambers, his breath ragged from running, chest rising and falling with anxiety. He hesitated. One hand raised to knock but froze mid-air.

He didn’t know what he would say. Didn’t know if he’d be welcomed.

Inside, Kaelith already knew.

He sat in the dim light of the room, head bowed, cloak draped over one shoulder, listening to the unsteady breaths just beyond the door.

"Come in," he said without turning.

Hale opened the door slowly, cautiously. As though afraid it might scream at his touch.

He stepped inside and shut it behind him. The silence between them was immediate and deafening.

Kaelith still didn’t face him.

Hale swallowed hard. His voice was barely held together. "I’m sorry."

Kaelith’s head tilted slightly. His tone was calm but distant. "You did nothing wrong. Why are you apologizing?"

Hale didn’t respond. His throat was tight, his heart tighter.

Kaelith slowly stood and turned his back, arms folded across his chest.

"If you have nothing else to say," he murmured, "then leave."

"Your Highness, I—"

Kaelith whipped around, anger cracking through his voice. "Stop calling me that. It’s just me and you here."

The silence that followed burned.

Kaelith’s eyes glistened. His anger wasn’t sharp; it was tired. It was pain barely hidden behind power.

"Leave, Hale."

Hale took a trembling step forward. "I can’t."

His voice broke. "I don’t know how to make this right, but it’s only you I want. No one else. No one but you."

He reached out and wrapped his arms gently around Kaelith’s waist, resting his forehead against the prince’s back.

"I’m sorry," he whispered.

Kaelith didn’t move. He stared at the far wall, fingers twitching as if debating whether to hold on or let go.

He turned slowly, facing Hale again.

"I know the King gave you no choice," Kaelith said, voice raw. "I know. And I’m trying not to be unfair. But gods... I hated watching it."

Their eyes locked.

Kaelith inhaled shakily. Then, in a voice just above a whisper.

"If we ever take that next step... if we move forward in this... intimacy, would you give me? Or would I take you?"

Hale blinked, startled by the bluntness. But he didn’t look away.

"I’ve never been taken before," he said honestly.

Kaelith gave a weak smile. "You’re my first man. In everything."

Hale’s heart thudded.

"Then whatever you want me to be," he said, voice steady now, "I’ll be it. For you."

Kaelith exhaled slowly, stepping closer.

"No matter how many times the King calls you to serve punishment, don’t ever let anyone take you from behind."

He pressed a hand against Hale’s chest.

"It’s mine. And you’re keeping it... until I’m ready."

Hale nodded, lips parting. "Okay, Your Highness."

Kaelith rolled his eyes, then flicked Hale on the forehead.

"Stop calling me that when it’s just us."

Hale smiled faintly. "Okay... Kaelith."

Kaelith softened. He reached up to run his fingers through Hale’s hair, a rare tenderness playing at the edges of his lips.

They were close now. Barely a breath apart.

Kaelith leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips gentle and claiming.

It was a kiss that said: I shouldn’t love you.

But I do.

Kaelith knew time might never offer them the freedom they deserved. But in this moment, he accepted what was undeniable.

They remained there, wrapped in the silence, lips brushing, foreheads touching until the knock came.

Knock. Knock.

Kaelith didn’t move.

His mouth lingered near Hale’s. His breath was warm.

"They’re always knocking," he whispered.

And the moment was shattered.

The knock came again, louder. This time, Kaelith sighed and stepped back. He straightened his posture, adjusting the collar of his robe.

Hale stepped away, too, standing quietly near the fire.

A voice echoed through the thick door. "His Majesty summons you, Prince Kaelith. He awaits you by the royal grove."

Kaelith froze. The royal grove.

Where his mother was buried.

Where the Queen’s throne still sat untouched, under willow shade.

He nodded slowly. "Tell my father I will be there."

As the messenger’s steps faded, Kaelith turned to Hale.

Something had shifted between them. Something that could no longer be brushed aside. No longer unnamed.

Kaelith stepped closer, lifting his hand to brush against Hale’s jaw. Their eyes met a storm of unspoken things swirling between them.

He kissed him.

Soft. Brief. But full of meaning.

A promise.

Then he pulled away. "I have to go."

Hale nodded, speechless.

But as the door shut behind Kaelith, one thought haunted him.

who is Hale?

A servant. A soldier. A shadow.

And yet... the only man Kaelith had ever kissed like that.

Like he mattered.

The moon hung low as Kaelith stepped into the grove, its silver light washing over the marbled statue of Queen Eleanor. The wind whispered through the willow branches above her tomb, scattering soft petals over stone carved with her name.

He approached slowly, the silence sacred. The scent of jasmine the Queen’s favorite lingered in the air, planted here by her own hands years before she passed.

King Aldric stood already at the heart of the garden, tall and still beside the white pedestal throne that had once belonged to his wife. Unlike the rest of Zarethrone, still echoing with laughter and lust, this place remained untouched. Hallowed.

The King’s voice broke the silence.

"She would’ve scolded me, you know... for allowing such a night to exist."

Kaelith said nothing.

"But she also would have forgiven me. Because she believed in freedom, even if it cost her peace."

Aldric turned to Kaelith then. His eyes were not the eyes of a king. They were the eyes of a husband who had never stopped mourning.

"Eleanor was not just Queen. She was the heart of this kingdom. She carried our sins in silence and carried you in love."

Kaelith’s throat tightened.

"Your mother dreamed of a world where you didn’t have to hide who you are. She wanted more than rules and appearances. She wanted the truth."

There was a pause.

Even the wind held its breath.

The king finally looked away toward the unoccupied throne beside her grave.

"Tonight, we honour desire. But now, we remember grace."

He gestured gently. The palace guards bowed their heads. The air itself stilled.

A moment of silence fell across the grove.

For Queen Eleanor.

Kaelith’s fingers curled at his sides. The ache in his chest was quiet but deep. Not loud like grief but raw, and still bleeding.

Ronan arrived not long after, watching from a respectful distance before he sauntered forward and broke the stillness.

"Careful, Prince," he whispered with a crooked smile. "You’re starting to look soft."

Kaelith glanced at him, unimpressed.

"You think grief is weakness?"

"No," Ronan said, folding his arms. "But love? That’s a dangerous thing to feel out loud here. And I’ve seen the way you look at your servant."

Kaelith’s gaze turned cold.

"Say one more word."

"Relax," Ronan grinned, raising his hands. "I’ll keep your secret. But just know... some stories end before they begin."

Kaelith looked away, his heart heavier than when he arrived.

Aldric’s voice echoed again, lifting above the trees.

"Let the fire return to our halls. Let the desire continued till final."

But in the grove, under the shadow of a Queen long lost, Kaelith stood still.

Not as a prince.

Not as a son.

But as a man who wanted what might never be his.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel