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[BL] Rules Of Desire: His Majesty's Secret-Chapter 32 - 30: You Own Me
Chapter 32: Chapter 30: You Own Me
Kaelith woke to silence. The sheets beside him were empty, still faintly warm, but Hale was already gone.
No note. No sound. No scent lingering in the air.
He sat up slowly, brushing hair from his eyes. He hadn’t even heard the door open.
Still, everything had been done his robes were laid out, water warmed, and his daily accessories perfectly arranged with Hale’s usual quiet precision.
Kaelith let out a slow breath, standing with reluctant grace. He dressed in silence, each layer reminding him of Hale’s absence.
When he finally stepped into the palace corridors, light streaming in through the stained-glass arches, his eyes flicked over every servant he passed.
None of them was him.
No familiar frame. No steady gaze. No Hale.
Kaelith’s chest tightened, though his expression remained unreadable as ever.
Kaelith stood shirtless in the centre of the courtyard, the morning sun washing over his skin like silent fire. He tightened the wrap on his wrist, jaw clenched as another servant adjusted the leather band along his forearm.
He hadn’t seen Hale.
Not at breakfast. Not during the early palace walks. Not even a shadow of him hovering in the corner like usual.
Still, he remained composed. He couldn’t afford to show even the smallest ripple of concern.
"Do any of you know if Hale has friends?" Kaelith asked lightly, almost as if the question was an afterthought.
The servant at his side paused mid-tie, exchanging a glance with the one holding the training sword.
"Not really, Your Highness," one of them replied. "Hale doesn’t speak much to any of us. But... there’s this man. We saw him twice in the northern courtyard. Not a servant. Just older."
Kaelith’s eyes narrowed, though his lips stayed neutral. "How old?"
Early forties... maybe late fifties. He and Hale talked for a while. Never smiled. Just spoke. Then the man left. We never knew what was said.
Kaelith wanted to press, he could feel the questions clawing at his throat but he swallowed them down. He wasn’t going to spiral. Not yet.
He gave a nod. "That’s enough."
The rest of his training passed in silence.
Swords clashed, sand scattered under his boots, sweat dripped down his temples, but none of it calmed the storm coiling in his chest.
When the last opponent bowed out and the servants began clearing the area, Elion appeared like a gust of royal arrogance, his robe half-flung over his shoulder, arms crossed.
"Strange," Elion said, squinting around, your servant is usually stuck to you like your own shadow.
Kaelith arched an eyebrow. "Are you jealous of Hale?"
Elion scoffed. Your Highness, don’t be full of yourself. We’ve known each other since you were hiding behind curtains. Why would I be jealous of an ordinary servant?
Kaelith’s smile was unreadable. "If you say so."
Elion narrowed his gaze. "But still. Where is he?"
Kaelith stood, brushing sand off his training trousers. "Ask the wind," he said softly and walked past without another word.
Later that evening, Kaelith sat in his father’s private chamber, a quiet drink between them. The fire in the hearth danced softly, illuminating King Aldric’s sharp features.
"You’re not talking much tonight," the king said, swirling wine in his goblet. Is it training? Or something heavier?
Kaelith took a slow sip. "Both, perhaps."
Aldric nodded knowingly. "Your eyes betray your calm, son."
Kaelith met his father’s gaze.
"You’ve grown stronger this season," the king continued. More composed. More you. He paused, watching the fire. Is Hale serving you well?
Kaelith’s fingers tightened around his cup.
"He is."
"If not, I can have him replaced," the king offered casually. "You deserve the best."
Kaelith replied immediately. "I don’t want anyone else."
The king looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. But he said nothing more.
When Kaelith returned to his chambers, the day had bled into a quiet, moon-soaked night. The bath was warm. The water soothed his skin, but not his mind. He lay in bed afterwards, eyes closed, but sleep avoided him like a phantom.
Then... the faint creak of the door.
Soft footsteps. Familiar.
He didn’t move.
He listened as Hale entered, quietly setting down items, robes, cloth, and fresh towels. Preparing things for the next day, as if nothing had changed.
As if he hadn’t vanished. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
Kaelith’s eyes stayed closed, but his heart was alert. When Hale moved to leave, his hand was already on the door.
"Not even a goodnight kiss?" Kaelith said quietly, voice laced with warmth and something colder underneath.
Hale froze.
He turned slowly, surprise painted across his face. "I didn’t want to disturb you."
He stepped back toward the bed, sitting at its edge. Kaelith rose to meet his eyes.
"Is there something you want me to help you with?" Hale asked, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Your Highness."
Kaelith leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Hale’s waist. His voice was low, almost breathless. "Kiss me."
Hale smiled again, softer this time. He pressed a kiss to Kaelith’s forehead. Then his nose. His cheek. A warm trail down to his neck.
And finally, their lips met.
A deep, slow, tongue-slick kiss. One that whispered everything Hale hadn’t said all day.
When Kaelith pulled back, his voice dropped an octave. "You know what I don’t forgive?"
Hale blinked. "What?"
Kaelith’s eyes didn’t leave his. "Someone who tries to use me."
The words were sharp. And though Kaelith’s tone was calm, Hale’s heart stuttered.
But instead of explaining, Kaelith just rested his head on Hale’s chest.
Hale held still his mind racing, his throat still. He wanted to ask what that meant. Wanted to spill the secrets, threatening to drown him. But instead... he stayed quiet.
Kaelith closed his eyes, breathing in his scent.
And outside, the moon watched through the window. Silent and knowing.
Hale’s heartbeat grounded him in ways words never could. His fingers absently traced patterns along the lines of Hale’s ribs, trailing over the faint scars and warmth of skin that had grown too familiar and necessary.
"I’ve been scared all my life," Kaelith whispered, his voice barely louder than a breath, "of being seen. Not as a prince. Not as a warrior. But as someone who loves men."
Hale’s arms tensed slightly around him.
Kaelith continued, voice heavy with years of guarded silence. "I prayed that if I ever gave in to this desire, if I ever let a man close to me... he wouldn’t just be at my side to use me. I can give any fortune, any title, or any reward. But my heart?" He paused, his throat tightening. "That’s not something I can afford to gamble."
The weight of Kaelith’s confession settled between them like a stone.
Hale said nothing for a moment. He didn’t trust his voice. His guilt sat heavy in his stomach, twisting like a blade. Secrets burned behind his tongue, truths he hadn’t dared to say aloud.
Finally, he managed, I’m flawed, Kaelith. I’m not perfect. I’ve made choices I regret... But I swear to you. I would never hurt you. Trust me.
Kaelith lifted his head slowly. His golden eyes locked onto Hale’s, searching, digging deep, as if trying to reach the soul beneath.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, softly, Kaelith asked, "Can I go inside you tonight?"
Hale blinked, startled not by the question, but by the weight behind it. Kaelith’s gaze didn’t waver. There was no lust in his tone, no teasing smirk. Just longing. Just need.
"At this moment?" Hale asked gently, as though making sure he hadn’t misunderstood.
"Yes." Kaelith nodded. I want to go inside you. I want to feel what it means to truly connect. To give in.
Hale’s breath hitched, emotion catching in his chest. He reached up and cupped Kaelith’s cheek, running his thumb across the prince’s lower lip.
"For you," Hale said, his voice raw with devotion, "to say no to you. It would be a crime. So yes. I’m yours, Kaelith. You own me. In every way."
To be continued.....
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