[BL] Rules Of Desire: His Majesty's Secret-Chapter 49 - 47: The Prince’s Command

"Elion," Kaelith said lowly, his voice tight with restrained anger.

"What?" Elion shot back, unfazed. "He’s not a knight. He’s not nobility. He’s not one of us. If he dies, we mourn for a day, then move on."

"That’s enough," Lysaro said.

"No," Elion said, folding his arms. "It’s not. We’re in enemy territory. If this food is poisoned, do you really want the Crown Prince to be the one who finds out the hard way? It’s logic, Kaelith."

Kaelith was about to speak further when a quiet voice broke through.

"I’ll eat it."

Hale’s words fell like a quiet thunderclap.

He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Sir, Elion is right. I’m the lowest among us. If someone should take the risk, it should be me."

Kaelith turned to him, eyes wide. "Hale, no."

Hale gave a small, subtle smile. "Your Highness, it’s alright."

Without warning, under the table, Kaelith reached out and grasped Hale’s hand. It was a silent gesture, hidden from the others. His grip was firm and protective, and his lips moved in a whispered prayer only Hale could hear.

Let this not be poisoned. Please.

Hale gently pulled his hand free and sat down. With steady hands, he took a bite from the meat, chewed slowly, and swallowed.

The room watched in silence. Seconds passed—long, tense seconds.

Nothing happened.

Hale reached for the fruit next. He took a bite. Again, nothing.

He met Kaelith’s eyes across the table and gave the faintest nod.

The silence broke when Lysaro exhaled. "Seems safe."

"Or the poison is slow," Elion muttered, but even he looked mildly relieved.

The others began to eat, cautious but with growing ease. Hale said nothing more. He simply returned to Kaelith’s side, quiet as ever.

Kaelith didn’t speak either, but his gaze lingered on Hale for a long moment.

Just as Hale brought the spoon to his mouth and started to eat, a tense silence held over the table.

Then Elion leaned forward again, his voice cutting through the quiet like a dagger.

"You’ve touched the food. But not the drink," he said flatly, his eyes never leaving Hale. "Drink it too. We need to be sure."

Lysaro groaned softly. "Elion, come on. The food is safe. Can’t you let it go for once?"

But Elion shook his head, expression grim. "Food being safe doesn’t mean the drink is. What if the poison is in the wine? We need to test everything."

Hale glanced briefly at Kaelith, then back to the goblet beside his plate. His hand moved slowly toward it.

Kaelith spoke gently at first. "That’s enough, Elion. The drink is likely safe, too. Let it be."

But Elion wouldn’t stop. "Let what be? If anything happens, it should happen to the servant. That’s what he’s here for, isn’t it? You don’t risk a prince’s life for a nobody."

Kaelith’s hand subtly curled into a fist beneath the table. His jaw clenched.

Hale stood without a word, raising his hand toward the goblet, prepared to obey.

Kaelith’s voice suddenly rang out... sharp, loud, and commanding.

"Stop!"

Hale froze mid-motion. The room turned silent.

Everyone looked at Kaelith.

He slowly stood from his chair, eyes locked on Elion with such intensity that it made the air itself feel heavy.

"No one—I repeat, no one—touches that drink. Not him. Not anyone."

Elion raised an eyebrow, half amused. "Why are you making this a scene? He’s just a servant, Kaelith. He should be the one—"

Kaelith’s voice cut through again, louder.

"He’s not just a servant! He’s a human being. You keep saying ’just’ like his life has no value. Like he’s disposable. But he’s not."

Elion straightened in his seat. "So what now? You’d rather protect him than let him do his job? You’re letting emotion cloud your judgment."

Kaelith slammed his hand on the table, loud enough to make several knights jump in their seats.

"It’s not emotion. It’s an order."

His voice thundered now, no trace of the calm prince he was known to be.

"Hale is not drinking anything else. That is not a request. It’s not a debate. Not a suggestion. It. Is. A. Command."

The entire room went still. You could hear the crackle of the torchlight on the walls. Even the guards posted by the door looked toward the prince, startled.

Lysaro stared in disbelief.

Elion’s smirk had long faded.

Kaelith looked around the table, eyes narrowed. "If anyone thinks it’s necessary to test the drink, then let them drink it."

Elion’s expression shifted from defiance to something unreadable. Disbelief? Hurt? Wounded pride?

"So this is what it’s come to," he muttered. "Because of a servant..."

Kaelith didn’t answer. His silence was his declaration.

Elion shook his head and stepped back from the table. "Then I won’t eat."

"You will," Kaelith said, and this time, his voice held steel. "No one leaves this table. Sit down. Eat. That is not a warning. It is an order."

A long beat passed.

The authority in his tone left no room for resistance.

Elion, tight-lipped and humiliated, slowly sank back into his seat.

Across the table, Hale lowered his gaze. He didn’t speak. He didn’t smile. He simply sat and picked up his spoon again. But Kaelith’s outburst—the open defense - the fiery protection—echoed in his chest louder than anything else could.

It wasn’t just a prince standing up for him.

It was the man he loved.

And Kaelith, composed and firm, sat back down, silent once more. But that rare glimpse of fire had said everything Hale needed to know.

For the first time, Hale wasn’t just protected.

He was claimed.

After the meal, the hour grew late, and the attendants of Khasidar prepared chambers for their guests. Five rooms were arranged along the east wing of the temple quarters, each adorned with dark velvet curtains and flickering torches that cast dancing shadows against ancient stone walls.

Kaelith’s room, as expected, was set apart at the far end—a bit larger, more private. The other four were close together.

Before the group could begin sorting out who would sleep where, Kaelith calmly said, "Hale will be with me tonight. I may need him for assistance."

No one questioned it aloud. Not even Elion. Not after what had happened at dinner.

So, Kaelith walked ahead, his expression unreadable. Hale followed silently behind him. The others began to disperse to their rooms.

Lysaro and Elion ended up in the same chamber. The air between them was quiet at first, heavy and tense. Lysaro changed out of his cloak and glanced over to where Elion sat by the window, arms folded, jaw clenched.

"You’re still angry," Lysaro said.

Elion didn’t respond.

Lysaro sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look," he started, voice firm but not unkind, "I know how close you and Kaelith are. You’ve been by his side since childhood. But Kaelith doesn’t believe in treating people as less. Servant or not, Hale has a heart. A life."

Elion stared at the torch on the wall, unmoving.

"You’re upset because Hale has Kaelith’s attention," Lysaro continued. "But that’s not a reason to treat him like he’s nothing. If you really care about Kaelith, you should respect what matters to him—even if it’s not you."

Elion finally turned, his eyes dark. "I know, Kaelith. I know he doesn’t get angry easily. But I pushed too far tonight, and... I didn’t expect him to yell. Not at me."

Lysaro gave a small nod. "Then settle it tomorrow. You two have been through too much together to let this grow into something worse. Kaelith didn’t take sides. He did what was right... as a leader."

Elion exhaled through his nose. "I’ll talk to him in the morning."

Meanwhile, Kaelith and Hale entered their chamber. The moment the door closed behind them, Hale dropped all formal restraint.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Kaelith from behind, resting his forehead against his shoulder.

"Who got my man so angry tonight?" he whispered softly against Kaelith’s neck, his breath warm.

Kaelith didn’t speak, just exhaled quietly, letting the warmth of Hale’s body ground him. He had kept himself together all day—even through the battle, the spirits, and the political tension - but it was here, in this quiet moment, where he could breathe.

Hale pressed a gentle kiss to Kaelith’s neck. "I’ve never seen you raise your voice before," he murmured. "I didn’t know you could."

Kaelith turned slightly in his arms and gave him a look that was both weary and sincere. "I couldn’t let him speak about you like that. Not again."

"I know," Hale replied. "It meant everything."

They stood there in silence for a while.

But far away... unseen by them, the Priestess of Khasidar sat in her chamber, her hands hovering over a bowl of flickering water. Runes glowed faintly on the rim.

Her eyes, glowing silver, were fixed on the vision inside.

She had seen the meal. The confrontation. The kiss. The embrace.

She whispered into the air, her voice ancient and soft.

"So... the bond is not just flesh. It is soul-deep."

The water rippled once... and then went still.

The Priestess’s lips pressed together. "Then what must be done will not be easy."

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