Chapter 246: Selvia and the King
Some refused to meet his eyes entirely, a deliberate coldness meant to unsettle him. Among the common-born, there was a subtle but tangible shift in demeanor. Heads tilted, whispers exchanged, and an unspoken respect began to build. Some would smile faintly as he walked past, offering brief nods or quiet murmurs of approval, careful not to draw the attention of the nobles around them.
Jae, for his part, said nothing. He ignored the whispers, the grudges, and the praise alike. His shoulders remained square, his gaze steady, though Elise noticed the tension in his jaw, the subtle way his hand lingered on his weapon more often than usual. Byun’s quiet voice muttered under his breath about cycles—push him down, raise him up, fear him more—a rhythm Jae had seen before, repeated in courts, battlegrounds, and training grounds alike. Tirel cursed softly under her breath that people couldn’t see the truth, her words sharp but resigned, carried into the night air and lost amid the crackling fire.
It didn’t take long for Sun to make his move. The next morning, as the camp stirred to life with the usual clamor of boots on damp earth, the smell of wet leather and morning dew in the air, he gathered the squads and raised his voice so all could hear. His tone was deliberately loud, forcing attention, his posture rigid, every movement precise and deliberate.
"Yesterday," he declared, voice carrying across the misty camp, "a line was crossed. A supposed ally revealed his true colors. Jae undermined me, disobeyed the structure of command, and flaunted himself as if he were the leader. This is treachery against me—and by extension, against the crown."
A ripple of murmurs moved through the students. Some nodded eagerly, their loyalty to Sun unquestioned, echoing the prince’s outrage in hushed tones. Others exchanged doubtful looks, their eyes flicking between Jae and Sun, unsure of whom to trust. The tension was palpable, mingling with the scent of wet earth and the faint smoke from morning fires.
Jae stood silent, arms crossed loosely, his expression calm. He didn’t rise to the bait, didn’t let Sun’s fury dictate his own movements. His eyes scanned the gathered students, noting the split in their gazes, the hesitance in some, the fierce alignment with Sun in others.
"Do you deny it?" Sun pressed, stepping closer, the rising sun glinting off the damp edges of his armor. His eyes blazed, voice taut with accusation, each word deliberate, carrying both fear of humiliation and the need to assert dominance.
Jae finally spoke, his voice calm but cutting, carrying clearly through the misty morning air. "I saved your life. That’s all there is to it."
Sun’s lips curled with contempt. "You saved nothing," he spat, voice ringing with anger. "You made me look weak. That is the same as treachery."
The words hung in the air like stones, heavy and oppressive, and the students shifted uneasily. The wind carried them through the camp, rustling tents and the leaves above, letting each syllable echo against trunks and undergrowth.
Before the situation could escalate, the staff stepped in. Mr. Han’s voice rang out like iron, cutting through the tension. "Enough." His gaze swept the assembled students, holding each of them with a stern, unyielding authority that silenced even the loudest whispers. "This mission was reconnaissance, not an arena for your personal quarrels. The beasts were slain. The squad survived. That is what matters."
Selvia stood beside him, her presence smooth yet edged with warning. The scent of her cloak and the faint traces of lilac seemed to momentarily soften the air, though her words left no doubt. "Any further accusations will be treated as insubordination. This academy will not tolerate students tearing each other apart with rumors and petty disputes. If either of you feels the need to prove yourselves, you will do so in sanctioned trials, not through reckless words."
The crowd quieted, though the undercurrent of the previous day’s conflict still simmered beneath the surface. Some students glanced at one another, hesitant, as if weighing their loyalties, while others fixed their eyes on the ground, unwilling to engage but unwilling to show support openly. Sun’s jaw was tight, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword as his eyes flicked toward Jae with unspoken venom. Every subtle twitch of muscle spoke of restrained fury, but he knew better than to confront the staff directly.
Jae gave no reaction. His expression remained neutral, his posture steady, and his breathing calm. Without a word, he turned and walked away, the damp grass muffling his steps, Elise, Tirel, and Byun falling in step beside him. They moved through the mist with a quiet determination, leaving Sun and the assembled students behind, the echoes of arguments and whispers fading into the thick morning air.
xxxx
Selvia knelt at the base of the throne. The king, broad-shouldered and commanding, regarded her with sharp eyes. The great chamber was still, save for the hiss of the torches and the faint echo of her own heartbeat in her ears. His presence alone filled the space, weighty and unyielding, and she felt it press down even as she held her posture steady.
He had already heard whispers from Sun, doubt sown like seeds into his ear. The prince’s words had been heated, laced with wounded pride and sharpened by envy. Yet the king did not rely on one voice alone. He waited, always weighing, measuring. Selvia’s word carried weight of its own, for she had never been careless with it.
"You have spoken with the boy?" the king asked, his voice steady, carrying across the hall like iron.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Selvia kept her head bowed, her tone measured but confident. Each word was deliberate, leaving no room for misstep. "I wanted to see for myself whether the stories were true—whether he harbors ambition beyond his station."
The king’s gaze sharpened further, though his expression betrayed nothing. "And does he?"
Selvia lifted her eyes only enough to meet his, careful not to overstep, but ensuring he could read the truth in her face.