The tower was silent, but it wasn't the kind of silence that brought comfort. It was the heavy, thick silence that comes after a storm.
Alaric lay in the dark, his eyes wide open. His heart was still beating with the rhythm of adrenaline. He could feel the warmth of Silas's body next to him, a stark contrast to the cold steel he had been holding only an hour ago.
Every small sound outside the door made Alaric's hand twitch toward the dagger he kept under the pillow. He knew his father. The King did not retreat because he was kind; he retreated to gather more venom.
Silas stirred in his sleep, a soft mumble escaping his lips. He moved closer to Alaric, seeking the heat of the man who had just risked everything to keep him safe.
Alaric looked down at him. He felt a strange, painful ache in his chest. For years, he had lived for nothing but war and duty. He had never known what it felt like to have something he was truly afraid to lose.
He reached out, his calloused fingers barely touching Silas's hand. He was a man of blood and iron, and Silas was everything soft and pure. They didn't belong together, yet Alaric knew he would burn the entire kingdom down before he let anyone take Silas away.
"I've made us targets," Alaric whispered into the shadows. The words were for himself, a reminder of the weight he now carried.
By defying the King in front of the army, he had started a revolution. There was no going back now. He was no longer just a Prince; he was a rebel, and Silas was his only weakness.
He watched the moon move slowly across the sky through the narrow window. Hours passed, and Alaric stayed on guard, acting as a human shield for the sleeping man beside him.
Eventually, the darkness began to fade into a dull grey. The birds in the courtyard below started to chirp, signaling that the sun was coming.
They had survived the night. But Alaric knew that the day would bring a different kind of battle.
He took a deep breath, finally allowing his eyes to close for just a moment. He breathed in the scent of the room—the fading smoke from the fire and the clean scent of Silas.
"Stay with me," Alaric murmured as he felt sleep finally pulling at him. "Just stay."