Chapter 10
Midnight in the palace was never silent.
It only pretended to be.
Aurelia sat upright on the edge of her bed, fully dressed, hands folded in her lap as the candle burned low beside her. She had dismissed her attendants hours ago, claiming fatigue, though sleep had never been her intention. Her senses were tuned outward, listening to the subtle creaks of stone, the distant footsteps of guards changing shifts, the soft breath of a palace that never truly rested.
Kael would come.
He had said he would.
The thought alone made her chest tighten—not with anticipation, she told herself, but with awareness. Everything involving him required awareness. One misstep, one careless emotion, one moment of closeness too charged with intent, and the night could end in blood.
A soft knock sounded.
Once. Precise. Controlled.
Aurelia stood and opened the door without hesitation.
Kael stepped inside and closed it behind him, moving with the quiet confidence of someone who knew every shadow this palace held. He wore no crown, no visible weapon, only dark clothing and the weight of command he carried even in solitude.
"You shouldn't have waited awake," he said.
"I shouldn't have done many things," Aurelia replied. "Waiting is not the most dangerous among them."
His gaze flicked to her face, assessing. "You're calm."
"I've had practice," she said.
He did not smile.
Kael crossed the room and stopped several paces away, deliberately maintaining distance. The air between them felt taut, as though stretched thin by restraint.
"The council is moving faster than I anticipated," he said quietly. "They're watching patterns now. Timing. Proximity."
Aurelia nodded. "Then we stop giving them patterns."
Kael's jaw tightened. "You don't understand what that requires."
"Then explain," she said. "Instead of shielding me with silence."
For a moment, he looked as though he might refuse. Then he exhaled slowly.
"The curse responds to escalation," he said. "Emotion layered upon emotion. Curiosity becomes intent. Intent becomes attachment. Attachment becomes death."
Aurelia absorbed that. "And tonight?"
He hesitated. "Tonight, it's restless."
The candle flame flickered sharply, bending sideways without any wind.
Aurelia felt it then—not the crushing cold she had felt before, but something subtler. A pressure at the edges of her awareness, like being watched by something that was thinking.
"The curse," she whispered.
"Yes," Kael said. "It's aware of you."
The words settled heavily between them.
Aurelia did not step back. She should have. She knew she should have. Instead, she straightened her spine and met his gaze.
"Then it's time we stop pretending this is coincidence."
Kael's eyes darkened. "This is not a conversation we should be having tonight."
"Why?" she asked softly. "Because it's dangerous? Or because it terrifies you?"
The pressure in the room deepened.
Shadows along the walls stretched, lengthening unnaturally. The temperature dropped just enough to raise goosebumps along Aurelia's arms.
Kael turned sharply toward the window. "You feel it."
"Yes," she said. "But it's different."
"It's testing," he said. "It always tests before it breaks."
Aurelia took a careful step forward.
Kael reacted instantly. "Don't."
She stopped—but did not retreat.
"I'm not afraid," she said.
"That's the problem," he replied harshly. "Fear keeps people alive."
"No," Aurelia said. "Understanding does."
She inhaled slowly, grounding herself. "It reacted violently the first time. It hesitated the second. Now it's watching."
Kael looked at her then, truly looked at her, as though she had spoken a truth he had been circling for years without daring to name.
"You think it's learning," he said.
"I think it already has," Aurelia replied.
The shadows shuddered.
A low hum vibrated through the room—not a sound, not quite, but a presence that pressed against Aurelia's chest. Her breath caught, just for a moment, and she forced herself to exhale evenly.
Kael noticed.
"You're affected," he said, voice tight.
"Yes," she admitted. "But not consumed."
The candle flame flared bright, then steadied.
Silence followed—thick, waiting.
Kael took one step forward before stopping himself, muscles rigid with restraint.
"Don't mistake tolerance for safety," he said. "The curse has killed for less."
"I know," Aurelia said quietly. "That's why I'm still standing here."
He laughed once—short, bitter. "You're impossible."
"I'm alive," she corrected.
The pressure receded slightly, like a tide pulling back after testing the shore.
Kael exhaled, slow and controlled. "You should stay away from me for a while."
Aurelia studied him. "Is that your decision—or the curse's?"
His eyes flickered.
"Both," he said.
She nodded, accepting that for now.
As Kael turned to leave, the shadows stirred again—just once, sharp and unmistakable. He froze mid-step.
"Kael," Aurelia said softly.
He looked back.
"The curse reacted," she said. "But not to closeness."
His expression hardened. "Then to what?"
Aurelia's hand curled slowly at her side as realization settled, cold and precise.
"To intent," she said. "Not yours."
Silence fell.
Kael stared at her, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Someone else is watching," he said.
"Yes," Aurelia replied. "And tonight, the curse noticed them too."
The door closed behind him moments later, leaving Aurelia alone with the fading candlelight and the echo of something ancient shifting its attention.
The night had not ended in death.
But it had ended in warning.