[BL] Rules Of Desire: His Majesty's Secret-Chapter 36 - 34: Whispers in the Shadow

The morning sun shimmered over the vast expanse of the Zarethrone training ground.

A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh grass and iron, the clang of swords already echoing through the air. Kaelith, Hale, Nigel, and the royal guards arrived on the field, each bearing a different energy.

Hale walked closely behind Kaelith, quiet but observant, while Nigel bounced with light-hearted excitement, his long hair tied neatly as he greeted every familiar face.

Bodyguards stationed around the grounds took notice of the unusual trio. Whispers floated among them, mostly about the radiant prince and the beautiful newcomer, Nigel, whose charm had not gone unnoticed.

As the group settled into their session, Kaelith began giving instructions. "Maintain your stances," he ordered. His voice was calm but assertive, the natural command of a crown prince who knew his way around the blade.

Nigel stood across from Kaelith, mirroring his posture with fluid grace. With every exchange, their movements grew more synchronized, and the space between them grew smaller. Laughter floated between sword clashes, their shared smiles too frequent to go unnoticed. Hale, from a short distance away, tightened his grip on the hilt of his own sword, watching his gaze sharp, unreadable.

"You’re getting better," Kaelith praised, stepping back after blocking one of Nigel’s swift attacks.

Nigel grinned, brushing hair from his face. "That’s because you’re the best teacher, Your Highness. It’s easy to learn from someone so inspiring."

Kaelith smiled briefly, then turned to correct a few other trainees. Hale stepped forward, catching his moment.

"Your Highness," Hale called gently. No response.

"Your Highness," he said again, louder this time. Kaelith, still mid-demonstration, remained immersed in explaining a parry technique to the group. Hale’s jaw tightened. One more time, with urgency now, he called, "Kaelith."

Kaelith turned abruptly. Can’t you not see I’m busy? he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade.

The training ground fell silent. Every trainee stilled. Nigel’s eyes widened. The guards straightened, unsure whether to look away or observe.

Hale took a small step back, stunned by the public reprimand. He bowed slightly, murmured, "Apologies, Your Highness," and retreated a few paces.

Kaelith stood frozen for a heartbeat, suddenly aware of what he had done. The tension suffocated the once energetic space. Quickly, Kaelith clapped his hands. "That’s enough for today. You all did well."

The soldiers began to disperse. Nigel gave a polite bow and said nothing, sensing the tension thick in the air.

They all left one after the other.

Kaelith and Hale walked side by side through the royal corridors. Neither spoke. The sound of their boots against polished marble echoed between them, each footstep louder than the silence they carried. Kaelith’s lips parted once or twice, as if to say something, but no words came.

Back in Kaelith’s chambers, the quiet persisted. Hale followed behind, stoic. Without being told, he stepped behind Kaelith and began removing his training armor. He unbuckled the plated chest guard, his fingers gentle but void of warmth. The shoulder pads followed, and then he placed the sword carefully on its stand.

Kaelith turned slowly to face him, guilt clouding his eyes. Without hesitation, he wrapped both arms around Hale’s waist, hugging him tightly from the front.

"Thank you," Kaelith whispered. And I’m sorry. For yelling. I didn’t mean to.

Hale didn’t respond immediately. He looked away, jaw clenched.

"People were watching," Kaelith continued. I panicked. I didn’t know how to respond with everyone there.

"You could’ve handled it better," Hale said quietly, the hurt behind his calm tone unmissable.

"I know. I should’ve done better." Kaelith reached for his hand. "I really felt bad for yelling at you.

Hale stepped back, gently pulling free. "If you need anything, I’ll be in the servant quarters."

He turned, ready to go. But before he could take another step, Kaelith rushed forward and wrapped his arms around him from behind. He pressed his forehead between Hale’s shoulder blades.

"Don’t go, he said. Not like this.

Hale turned around slowly. Kaelith looked up at him with soft, pleading eyes.

"You can yell at me back," Kaelith murmured. "I just didn’t want people to talk. You know how they’ll twist anything. But I should’ve never made you feel embarrassed. You don’t deserve that."

Hale sighed, then cupped Kaelith’s cheek. You have no idea what you do to me when you yell at me like that. I felt invisible.

Kaelith leaned into his palm. "I’ll never do it again. I swear."

After a moment, Hale nodded slowly, letting the cold wall between them melt. "Alright," he said softly.

Kaelith smiled faintly and leaned up to press a kiss to Hale’s lips.

Nigel sat alone by the edge of the training courtyard, watching the sky shift toward dusk. He tossed a small stone between his fingers, his mind distracted.

That morning still lingered in his thoughts how Kaelith had stepped out of his chambers with Hale... not as master and servant, but with a quiet closeness he couldn’t unsee. The way Hale fixed the prince’s cloak, the faint smile Kaelith gave him... it felt oddly intimate.

Could they be...?

Nigel shook his head.

"No," he muttered under his breath. "That’s not possible. The prince is forbidden from such things. Even if it were true. He definitely wouldn’t yell at him like that in front of everyone."

He remembered the sharpness in Kaelith’s voice during training. The way Hale stood frozen, embarrassed. No one who cared about someone like that would humiliate them in front of others, right?

Nigel sighed. I’m probably overthinking. He tossed the stone farther into the dirt and stood. And with that, he left the thought behind.

NIGHT IN ZARETHRONE

Zarethrone slept under a shroud of silence, the moon hanging high, half-veiled behind drifting clouds. Most of the kingdom lay still except for a few who dared to walk after curfew.

A gentle breeze passed through the narrow stone alleys.

Then... came the whispers.

Faint. Unnatural. Words that didn’t belong to any tongue spoken by men.

One guard patrolling near the merchant district stopped mid-step. His torch flickered. He turned.

No one was there.

A moment later, the flame on his torch died.

By morning, his body was cold, eyes wide open, limbs frozen in place, and was found lying near the fountain.

He wasn’t alone.

Eight others were discovered across the outer parts of the kingdom, each of them lifeless, untouched by any weapon. No wounds. No struggle. As though the very life had been drained from them.

Royal Chambers Morning

Kaelith arrived at the King’s chambers after being summoned. Darius stood near the map table, his expression unreadable. Several guards stood near the windows, clearly uneasy.

King Aldric turned toward his son, grave lines on his face.

"Kaelith," he said calmly, but his voice carried weight. "Look into this."

"What is it?" Kaelith stepped forward. frёewebnoѵēl.com

"There are nine dead," the King stated. "Discovered this morning. No cause. No signs of violence. All were found in different parts of the kingdom."

Kaelith’s jaw clenched. "Assassination?"

Darius shook his head. No poison. No blade. No trace. Their faces... some still had expressions of confusion. Almost like they didn’t even know they were dying.

The King stepped forward, walking toward the window. We can not panic the people, not until we understand what we’re dealing with. For now, keep the city quiet. Make curfew stricter. No one walks the streets after nightfall.

"And if it happens again?" Kaelith asked.

"Then," the King said, voice like steel, "we find what’s haunting Zarethrone."

Unbeknownst to them all, as night would fall again... the whispers would return.

By dusk, the entire kingdom of Zarethrone was buzzing with quiet warnings. Word had spread like wildfire: No one must wander the streets after nightfall.

That evening, in the war chamber of the east tower, Crown Prince Kaelith sat with Lysaro, Elion, and a few trusted knights. The mood was heavy, tension tightening the air like a coiled rope.

"They were all found without wounds," Lysaro muttered, leaning over the table where the map of Zarethrone lay spread open.

No sign of poisoning either, added Elion, his brows furrowed. Their faces were peaceful... like they just fell asleep and never woke up.

"Assassination?" one of the knights offered.

Kaelith shook his head. "Too clean and silent."

They continued for hours, turning over every known enemy, every trace, every suspicious movement within the last moon cycle, and yet no theory made sense. The chamber eventually quieted, each man lost in thought.

"We’ll reconvene tomorrow," Kaelith finally said, rising. Keep patrols doubled. No one is allowed outside past dusk.

The men dispersed one by one, leaving only Hale waiting quietly by the door. Kaelith walked beside him, their steps echoing through the candlelit corridor. Neither spoke at first until Hale broke the silence.

If there were no wounds, no poison, no forced entry... no signs of a struggle, Hale said, his voice low, "then maybe what we’re looking for isn’t physical at all."

Kaelith glanced at him, intrigued.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Hale met his eyes. "I mean... what if it’s magic? Not just any spell, but a power rooted in old sorcery. Something like charm or spiritual drain. Things were once used by the ancient sorcerers of the outerlands."

Kaelith paused, blinking in disbelief. Spirits? Sorcery?

Hale nodded slowly. If it’s not an assassin’s blade, it could be a force unseen. Something that doesn’t leave a trace only emptiness.

Kaelith’s eyes widened, the dots connecting in his mind. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, Hale, you’re truly brilliant.

Hale smiled faintly. "I just say what I think."

Kaelith glanced at him again, the look in his eyes softening. And that’s exactly why I trust you.

They continued walking side by side through the shadows, the flickering torchlight unable to chase away the growing mystery that loomed over Zarethrone.

Then they heard a sound pass by, faint and swift, like a whisper in the dark.

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