[BL] Rules Of Desire: His Majesty's Secret-Chapter 46 - 44: Journey to Khasidar

With his father’s blessing, Kaelith quickly assembled his chosen company. Elion and Lysaro stood at his side in full armor, Hale behind him with supplies already packed. The ten knights assigned by the King bowed low, ready and silent.

Kaelith addressed them in the palace courtyard, the sky above them dimming into a cool golden hue. "We leave in one hours.

The road to Khasidar will not be easy. Stay alert, trust no one we do not know, and guard each other with your lives.

Orders were shouted. Horses readied. The House stirred into action.

The sun had barely crested the horizon when Kaelith and his companions rode out from the eastern gates of Zarethrone.

The early light painted the land gold, glinting off armor and steel, while the air still held the cool breath of morning dew. Behind them, the kingdom lay restless, heavy with whispers, fear, and questions yet unanswered.

Before them stretched a long, uncertain road to Khasidar a place shrouded in mystery, home to a priestess said to hold the key to the spell gripping their land.

Lysaro and Elion led the group, riding at the front, while Kaelith rode just behind them, side by side with Hale. Two additional knights flanked the rear, keeping a tight formation. The hooves of their horses struck the earth in a steady rhythm, kicking up small clouds of dust along the winding path.

The silence had grown thick enough to cut until Elion spoke, voice loud and lazy.

"I want to make this journey less boring," he said, stretching his arms slightly as his horse plodded along. "But I don’t know how."

Their pace was still gentle, the horses moving like they had all the time in the world.

Lysaro, without turning his head, responded dryly, "If you don’t know how, why not just keep quiet?"

Elion snorted. "Why should I? It’s not like we know if we’re even going to survive this trip.

Think about it: the Vale of Whisperer, the Veiled of Spirits, death stalking the streets, people ravaged by that Desire spell... and now we’re off to find answers in the unknown depths of Khasidar." He gave a humorless chuckle. What if we all die in the South?

What then? Might as well have a few laughs before things get serious.

Lysaro shook his head slowly, exasperated. If you want to die, fine. But must you drag everyone into your own death prophecy?

Kaelith said nothing. He simply listened, his eyes fixed ahead as the two continued their exchange. The wind lifted strands of his hair, and he let the conversation carry without interruption.

Lysaro turned halfway in the saddle, speaking more loudly. Your Highness, I swear to protect you. If death comes, let it take me first. Elion can go die alone.

You won’t die for me, Elion shot back without hesitation.

Lysaro grinned. Die for you? My foot.

Their argument rolled on, absurd and oddly comforting in its familiarity.

I still remember that time in the northern mountains, Elion said suddenly, his tone shifting to teasing. You screamed when you saw that lizard, Lysaro. I thought a demon had climbed into your bedroll.

It had horns, Elion. And scales. It was not a lizard.

"It was a rock iguana," He mumbled quietly beside Kaelith.

Exactly. A rock demon. I was being cautious.

You screamed like a maiden, Elion said. You nearly fell off the cliff trying to escape it.

The knights riding behind them chuckled, the tension of the journey momentarily easing.

Kaelith finally lifted his hand slightly. "Enough," he said, his voice calm but commanding. No one is dying. Not today. Not on this journey. We go, we find answers, and we return. Together.

Lysaro bowed slightly in his saddle. Understood, Your Highness. But if anyone must die, let it be Elion.

Elion grinned. "Glad to be of service."

Lysaro pressed on, feigning a softer tone. Your Highness, I hope you consider me a knight too. I represent every post in Zarethrone, cook, scout, messenger and apparently, comic relief.

Kaelith allowed a faint smile. Hale, beside him, rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Lysaro added, dramatically, And Sir Elion keeps scaring me with his talks of death. I can’t stand him.

Laughter rippled through the group again, lightening the atmosphere as the road ahead stretched wide and wild.

Elion looked back and spat with a playful glare. You’ll survive, Princess Lysaro.

With the banter fading into comfortable silence, the group leaned forward in their saddles. Their horses, sensing the shift, began to ride faster, hooves thundering in rhythm across the open road.

The journey to Khasidar had officially begun. The danger ahead was real. But for now, there was laughter, there was purpose, and there was hope.

As they rode for hours, the sun had already begun to dip behind the hills. The once golden light now faded into cooler shades of dusk. The air was quiet. Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the forest beside the path.

Kaelith raised one gloved hand immediately. "Silence."

Everyone obeyed, slowing their horses, eyes scanning the dense trees. The sound grew louder, branches cracking, leaves shifting.

Their hands moved to their weapons, ready, but they remained on horseback, tense and alert.

Then, just as quickly as the tension rose, the cause burst out from the forest.

A deer darted across the path, followed closely by two small fawns her children scampering after her. The family crossed in a blur of fur and speed, disappearing back into the woods on the other side.

A wave of relief swept through the group.

Lysaro turned to Elion with a grin, nudging his horse slightly toward him. "Why are you scared?" he asked mockingly. Weren’t you the one talking about how ready you were to die just now? And now, something brushes past and you look ready to faint.

Elion just stared at him silently, unamused, lips pressed into a firm line.

But before the laughter could settle, another silence fell a deeper one. No wind. No birds. Just stillness.

Lysaro tilted his head. "Another animal?" he muttered, half-joking.

But this time, what stepped out of the trees wasn’t a harmless deer.

Figures emerged rough-looking men with torn cloaks and rusted weapons. Their eyes were greedy, fixed on the group’s horses, armor, and supplies. There was no doubt about it: bandits.

Without waiting for orders, the group dismounted swiftly, drawing their weapons.

The bandits approached with arrogance, clearly thinking they’d come upon easy prey.

They were wrong.

The clash came fast. Steel rang out as swords met in sparks. Elion charged in first, slamming his shield into one thug and swinging his blade with deadly force. Lysaro fought back-to-back with a knight, cutting down one attacker with a clean strike.

Hale stayed close to Kaelith, blades in hand, moving swiftly and striking with precision.

The bandits weren’t trained. They were desperate and uncoordinated and it showed.

Within minutes, two lay groaning on the ground. One had fled into the woods. Another surrendered, throwing down his weapon.

Kaelith stepped forward, breathing calmly, eyes locked on the remaining conscious man. Try to steal from us again, and next time, no one will be merciful. Go.

The man scrambled away, dragging his wounded companion.

The forest grew quiet again.

Kaelith turned to the others. "Let’s move."

Hale leaned slightly toward Kaelith, his voice low and careful.

"Your Highness... are you alright?"

Kaelith kept his gaze on the road ahead. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense from the earlier fight. For a moment, he didn’t speak.

Then, with a short breath, he nodded.

"I’m fine," he said quietly.

That was all Hale needed to hear for now.

They continued riding in silence, the sound of hooves muffled against the soft earth. The sky had darkened fully now, the last traces of daylight fading into a velvet night. The forest around them thickened, and the wind grew colder, brushing against their cloaks and armor.

It had been a long day.

Kaelith slowed his horse slightly and turned his head toward Elion and Lysaro ahead. "We’ll rest here," he called out.

The group came to a gradual stop near a small clearing off the road, partially hidden beneath tall trees and bramble. The space was just wide enough for them to safely camp without being seen from the main path.

Lysaro slid off his horse first, stretching his back with a groan. "Finally," he muttered. I thought my bones were turning to stone.

Kaelith dismounted with grace, his eyes scanning the perimeter before giving Hale a small nod. Hale was already moving gathering kindling, checking supplies, and tying down the horses. One of the other knights began to set up a small campfire.

The flames soon crackled to life, casting flickering shadows on the group’s tired faces. The warmth was a welcome comfort.

Kaelith sat near the edge of the firelight, resting his sword beside him, the weight of the day heavy on his frame. Hale sat nearby, not too close, but always within reach.

Their eyes met briefly no words exchanged but something silent passed between them: concern, understanding, and quiet strength.

They had survived the first day of the journey.

But the road to Khasidar was far from over.

After settling down, the group began to eat the dried rations packed for the journey bread, salted meat, and some fruits preserved in leaves. It wasn’t a feast, but after the long day, even the simplest meal felt like a blessing.

Elion rummaged through his saddlebag with a grin and pulled out a slim, dark-glass bottle. "Now this," he said proudly, holding it up, "is what truly keeps the bones warm."

Lysaro raised a brow. You smuggled that along? he asked, half-amused, half-impressed.

Elion uncorked the bottle with a dramatic flourish and took a generous sip before passing it to Lysaro.

Call it motivation.

The night is scary....

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