[BL] Rules Of Desire: His Majesty's Secret-Chapter 30 - 28: L.S.N. Final Day

The final day of Lost Shame Night came cloaked in gold and ash.

Zarethrone had never been so still in its sin. The flames from a thousand lanterns burned low, flickering against the marble walls like dying hearts. The moans had quieted to whispers. The laughter dulled into murmurs. And the air thick with sweat, perfume, and want had begun to settle.

But not all desires had been quenched.

In the palace square, silks and bodies still moved slowly. More intimate now. Less chaotic. Like lovers clinging to the final hour of a dream before waking.

Couples lingered. Trios tangled. The more daring were still testing limits panting into each other’s mouths, pressing into stone walls, skin slick, and raw with the touch of strangers.

But it was no longer a performance.

It was confessional.

Hale stood at the edge of it all, his shirt unbuttoned, collar damp from heat and exertion. The torchlight caught the marks left on his neck, the ones that hadn’t come from Kaelith, and that knowledge weighed heavily on him.

He watched from the shadows. Not moving or seeking.

He was looking for Kaelith.

Elsewhere in the garden balcony, Kaelith leaned on the cold railing, bare fingers curled tight around the carved stone. His robe hung open at the chest, his skin marked not by lust but memory. The scent of Hale still clung to him, haunting like a secret melody. freeweɓnøvel~com

And yet, they were no closer.

He hated the world for making this night feel like freedom.

When the sun would rise and turn every touch into a sin again.

The King’s Last Address

Before the final hours slipped away, King Aldric summoned the remaining guests to the grand courtyard.

He stood on the ceremonial platform, flanked by loyal guards and flickering braziers.

"Tonight," he said, voice deep with age and burden, "marks the last of what this kingdom allows once a year. A night without judgment. Without rules. It’s a night where shame is stripped bare, and desire speaks louder than rank."

He paused, eyes sweeping over the crowd. Some were dressed again. Others were still half-naked, bruised, and glowing from endless passion.

"But remember this: freedom is never without cost."

He looked to the throne behind him Eleanor’s throne, still untouched.

"My queen once said, ’True desire is not in the body. It’s in the courage to love openly.’"

His voice wavered just for a breath.

"So I ask you, as we close this Chapter tonight..." To whom do you desire? And you are brave enough to keep them when the lights return?"

Silence.

Not a whisper stirred in the crowd.

Even the sky seemed to hold its breath.

Then a bell rang.

One single tone, clear and slow.

It was done.

Kaelith and Hale: After the Fire

When the courtyard emptied and the last of the music died, Kaelith found Hale in the corridor outside his chambers, sitting on the floor like a man too exhausted to pretend he was fine.

They didn’t speak right away.

Kaelith knelt in front of him.

Their foreheads touched.

And for a long time, they just breathed.

"It’s over," Hale said quietly.

"No," Kaelith whispered. "It’s only just beginning. He reached for Hale’s hand firmly, without hesitation.

They walked past the familiar corridors of the palace, not toward his chamber, not toward the garden, but deeper. Down a narrow, unused path lit only by flickering torches. Hale had never seen this part of Zarethrone.

A carved wooden door stood before them, nearly swallowed by ivy. It didn’t look like anything royal, nothing grand.

Kaelith pushed it open.

They stepped into a sanctuary wrapped in silence. The ceiling arched above like the inside of a shell, the walls lined with velvet drapes and books, soft cushions scattered across the stone floor. A fountain trickled quietly in the center, its waters glowing with soft blue light. The air smelled of dried roses and old parchment. Moonlight spilled through stained glass, turning the space into a dream.

"What is this place?" Hale asked, eyes wide.

Kaelith looked around as if he were remembering it for the first time. "It’s my hiding place."

Hale turned to him. "I didn’t know you had one."

Kaelith gave a small, private smile. "You’re not supposed to. No one is. This place... I used to come here with my mother. Before she died. Whenever the palace felt like too much."

"Why would royalty need to hide?" Hale asked softly.

Kaelith exhaled and sat down on a thick velvet cushion. Because sometimes... being a prince is suffocating. You don’t decide your life. You’re born into rules. Traditions. Watchers. Expectations. Sometimes I just wanted to be Kaelith. Not Zarethrone.

Hale moved beside him. You might think I don’t understand, but I do. Maybe not the royal part... but the feeling of being owned by something bigger than yourself? I know that. He smiled gently. "I know it all too well."

Kaelith turned to him, their faces close. "Did you cast a spell on me, Hale?"

Hale’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. He pulled Kaelith’s waist closer. "Yes."

Kaelith raised a brow. "What kind of spell?"

Hale leaned in. "A love spell."

They laughed quietly, the kind of laugh only shared in secret.

Kaelith brushed his fingers down Hale’s arm. "Sometimes it’s hard to believe you’re from a poor family."

Hale chuckled. "Why’s that?"

Because everything about you... your skin, your confidence, your gaze. It doesn’t feel small. And you’re bold. The first day you arrived, you said you came with your father, but I’ve never seen him.

"He stays on the outer edge of the kingdom," Hale said. "If you want, I can take you to meet him."

Kaelith hesitated, watching him. "No. I just hope you’re not hiding anything from me."

Hale leaned closer. I’m not. You looked at me. That first day and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting you.

Their lips met slowly, warmly, and familiarly. But when they pulled back, Kaelith’s eyes were troubled.

"Why did you choose me?" he whispered. You know I can only love you in secret. I need to get married. I need to...

Hale didn’t let him finish.

He kissed him again, firmer this time.

"You said this is just the beginning," Hale murmured. "Why are you worried already?"

Kaelith’s voice dropped. "Because this is forbidden. You could lose your life."

Hale brushed a hand over his cheek. For you? You’re worth dying for.

Kaelith gently slapped his chest. "Don’t say that. I’ll make sure you stay alive. I’ll keep you safe."

Hale smiled. "That’s all I need. Just... be positive."

Time slowed. The night curled around them like a secret. Kaelith told stories about his childhood, about sneaking away with his mother to this very room, how she’d braid his hair while humming old lullabies.

Their laughter faded into silence.

Kaelith leaned in, kissing Hale harder, their breath catching. Hands roamed. Clothes shifted.

Kaelith’s fingers slipped beneath Hale’s shirt, tracing the ridges of muscle, the heat of skin. Hale’s hand did the same, slipping into Kaelith’s robe, finding him already hard.

They lay side by side on the cushions, mouths locked, breaths hitching.

Kaelith’s fingers wrapped around Hale’s cock.

Hale groaned against his mouth, and then his hand found Kaelith’s length. They stroked each other slowly at first, then harder, their hips grinding subtly. Moans spilled between their kisses.

"Fuck," Kaelith breathed.

Their movements became desperate, urgent. Sweat slicked their chests as they thrust into each other’s hands, matching rhythm for rhythm.

Kaelith clutched Hale’s shoulder, his body tightening. Hale bit down on Kaelith’s lip, moaning low.

They came together.

Hot, wet, and shuddering.

Their foreheads pressed together as they panted, hands still around each other.

Kaelith reached up and pressed a soft kiss to Hale’s head.

Silence.

Hale closed his eyes, but inside his mind, a single thought echoed.

I hope when you find out the truth about me... it doesn’t break us.

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