Chapter 12: Chapter 13: same mistake

Elara’s POV

My breath caught in my throat. Heat flooded my face, spreading down my neck, making my skin feel like it was on fire.

“Put me down,” I said. My voice came out smaller than I intended. Weaker.

“Are you sure?” His eyes were still on my lips. “You seem quite comfortable.”

“Kaelen,” I said, trying to sound firm. “Put. Me. Down.”

The smug smile widened. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

But he didn’t just set me on my feet. He lowered me slowly. So slowly. His arms sliding along my body as he let me down inch by inch. Until my feet touched the ground but we were still pressed together. His hands on my waist. Mine against his chest.

I could feel his heart beating. Strong. Steady. While mine was racing like a wild horse.

“There,” he said softly. “Safe on the ground. Where you belong.”

I should have stepped back. Should have put distance between us. Should have reminded him that he was my guard and I was his queen and this was completely inappropriate.

But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

His eyes searched my face. And for just a moment, I saw something there that wasn’t smug or teasing. Something real. Something that looked almost like… longing.

Then he stepped back. The moment broke like glass.

He bowed his head formally. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. That was inappropriate.”

“Yes,” I managed to say. “It was.”

But my voice shook. And we both knew it wasn’t from anger.

He gestured to the desk. “Your letter. You should read it.”

Right. The letter. That’s why he’d come in here.

I walked to the desk on trembling legs. Picked up the sealed letter with shaking hands. Broke the wax seal.

The message inside was short. Written in Lord Malakor’s neat handwriting.

*Your Majesty,*

*An urgent matter has arisen that requires immediate council attention. There are reports of unrest in the hinterlands and irregularities in the trade records. I have called an emergency session for this afternoon. Your presence is required.*

*Lord Malakor*

I stared at the words. An emergency session. Right after I’d just discovered my father’s journal. Right after I’d learned that Malakor had been controlling my father for years.

The timing felt wrong. Too convenient.

“What is it?” Kaelen asked.

I looked up at him. “Emergency council meeting. Lord Malakor says there’s unrest in the hinterlands.”

Something flickered across his face. “The hinterlands?”

“The eastern provinces,” I said. “The ones they refused to help yesterday.”

“Convenient timing,” he said quietly.

“That’s what I thought.” I looked back at the letter. “He wants me there this afternoon.”

I glanced at my father’s journal still sitting on the desk. I couldn’t leave it here. Couldn’t risk someone finding it.

“I need a moment,” I said to Kaelen. “Wait outside.”

He hesitated. Like he wanted to say something. But then he just nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

I quickly moved to the far wall. Found a small cabinet with a lock. Tried the handle. Locked.

I searched through the desk drawers until I found a small key. Tried it in the cabinet lock. It worked.

Inside the cabinet were more of my father’s things. Personal letters. Documents. I placed the journal inside, locked the cabinet, and slipped the key into my pocket.

This wasn’t just my father’s regrets anymore. This was evidence. Proof that Malakor had been manipulating the crown for years.

I took a deep breath. Straightened my dress. Tried to calm my racing heart.

Then I opened the door.

Kaelen was waiting. “Ready, Your Majesty?”

“No,” I said honestly. “But let’s go anyway.”

We walked through the palace toward the council chamber. Him three steps behind me, as always.

But something felt different now. The silence between us wasn’t cold or distant. It was charged. Electric. Like lightning waiting to strike.

Halfway there, a wave of dizziness hit me. I stumbled slightly.

Kaelen was there instantly. His hand on my elbow, steadying me. “Your Majesty?”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

“You’re not fine,” he said quietly. “You’re pale. You’re shaking. When did you last eat?”

I tried to remember. “This morning. I think.”

“You think?”

“I had tea,” I said. “Maybe some bread. I don’t remember.”

“You need to eat,” he said firmly.

“I need to get to this meeting,” I corrected.

His jaw tightened. But he didn’t argue. Just kept his hand on my elbow as we walked. Ready to catch me if I fell again.

We reached the council chamber. The doors were already open. All the lords were inside, waiting.

I walked in with my head high, even though my body felt weak. Kaelen took his place against the wall behind my chair.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Malakor stood and bowed. “Thank you for coming so quickly. Please, sit.”

I sat. Looked around the table. All the familiar faces. Old Garrow. The other lords whose names I barely remembered. All of them looking serious. Concerned.

“What is this about?” I asked.

Malakor unrolled several papers on the table. “We’ve received troubling reports from the hinterlands. The eastern provinces, specifically. There’s been unrest. Protests. Some violence.”

My heart jumped. The eastern provinces. The ones he’d refused to help in yesterday’s meeting.

“What kind of violence?” I asked.

“Farmers refusing to pay their taxes,” Malakor said. “Blocking roads. Threatening tax collectors. It’s getting out of hand, Your Majesty.”

“Maybe because they can’t afford the taxes,” I said quietly.

Malakor’s eyes flickered to me. “Your Majesty?”

“Yesterday you said the eastern provinces were always complaining,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “That we couldn’t trust their claims of hardship. But now you’re saying there’s actual unrest. Which is it?”

Silence fell over the table.

Malakor smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I said we couldn’t afford to reduce their taxes without proof of their situation, Your Majesty. Now we have proof. They’re rioting. That proves they’re desperate.”

“Or angry,” I said. “There’s a difference.”

“Your Majesty,” one of the men spoke up. “With respect, these farmers are breaking the law. We can’t allow that kind of behavior. It sets a dangerous example for the other provinces.”

“So what do you suggest?” I asked. “What’s the solution?”

“We send soldiers,” Malakor said firmly. “Show them that the crown will not tolerate rebellion. Arrest the ringleaders. Make an example of them.”

My stomach turned. “You want to arrest hungry farmers?”

“I want to maintain order,” Malakor said. “Your Majesty, I understand you have a kind heart. But sometimes kindness must be balanced with strength. If we show weakness now, every province will think they can defy the crown whenever they wish.”

“And if we send soldiers to arrest starving people,” I said, “what will that make us? What will the kingdom think of us?”

Malakor’s jaw tightened. “It will make us rulers, Your Majesty. Which is what you are. A ruler must sometimes make difficult decisions.”

I looked around the table. Saw all the lords nodding. Agreeing with Malakor.

But I remembered my father’s journal. Remembered his regret. His shame at not helping people when he had the chance.

I wouldn’t make the same mistake

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