Lydia hurried down the stone path toward the gardens, her boots crunching through the freshly fallen snow. The air was sharp, biting at her skin even through the layers of fabric she wore. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, her breath clouding in the icy air as worry quickened her steps.
She had given Kael time, thinking he might need space to settle into the work—space to prove himself without hovering eyes. But now, unease churned in her chest. It had been too long.
"Kael?" Lydia called out, her voice carrying into the stillness. The only response was the soft whisper of the wind through the bare branches.
Her pace quickened as she scanned the snow-covered flowerbeds. The garden looked abandoned, silent and white, with only the faintest hints of dark earth where Kael had been digging earlier. Her heart dropped when her eyes landed on a figure sprawled against the snow, his dark hair stark against the pale ground.
"Kael!"
She rushed forward, the icy crust cracking under her knees as she dropped beside him. His body was half-buried, the snow already beginning to cling to his clothes. Lydia's fingers trembled as she brushed away the frost coating his lashes and pressed a hand to his face.
Cold. Too cold.
"You fool," she hissed under her breath, her voice trembling as she shook his shoulder. "Kael! Wake up!"
There was no response. Panic surged through her veins. She could feel his faint breath against her palm, but it was shallow, fragile.
Lydia scrambled to her feet and shouted toward the palace. "Guards! Help! Someone, come quickly!"
The minutes stretched, too slow, until she heard the heavy thud of boots. Two guards appeared at the edge of the garden, their eyes widening at the sight.
"Take him inside—now!" Lydia ordered, stepping back to give them space. She watched as they lifted him carefully, their movements swift yet cautious.
Her gaze lingered on Kael's pale face as they carried him away, and a knot of guilt tightened in her chest. She should have checked on him sooner.
-----
The healers worked quickly, their voices hushed as they moved around Kael's still form. Lydia stood near the door, wringing her hands as she tried not to get in the way. She watched as they examined him, muttering words she couldn't catch.
Minutes passed before one of them finally turned to her.
"It's exhaustion," the healer said, wiping his hands clean. "And the cold didn't help. He's weak but stable now—he needs rest and warmth. Nothing more."
Lydia exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you," she said before turning and hurrying down the hall.
She hesitated outside the princess's chambers, then knocked softly.
"Enter," came the cool, familiar voice.
Lydia stepped inside and curtsied. "Your Highness, it's Kael."
Seraphina glanced up from the reports spread across her desk, her brow arching. "What about him?"
"He collapsed in the garden," Lydia said quickly. "The healers say he's stable now, but he—he pushed himself too far. He didn't even stop to eat."
For a moment, Seraphina didn't react. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, as if weighing the words. Then, without another word, she stood and swept past Lydia, her footsteps echoing through the corridor.
-----
The room was dimly lit when Seraphina entered. The faint glow of the fire did little to warm the cold stone walls. Kael lay on the cot, his skin pale against the thin blanket covering him. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and his breaths were shallow but steady.
She stopped beside the bed, her arms crossing as her gaze swept over him. He looked fragile—pathetic, even—and something sharp twisted in her chest. It wasn't sympathy. It was frustration.
"How utterly useless," she said coldly, her voice breaking the silence.
Kael stirred, his lashes fluttering before his eyes cracked open. He blinked, disoriented, his gaze struggling to focus on her.
"Your Highness?" His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.
"You couldn't even handle a simple task," she snapped. "One job. Clear the snow and tend the garden. Instead, you collapse and turn yourself into a burden."
Kael flinched at her words, shame flickering across his face. He tried to sit up, his arms trembling under his weight.
"I—"
"Don't," she cut him off sharply. "Don't bother with excuses. Do you think this makes me trust you? Do you think this proves you're capable of anything?"
Kael bowed his head, his hands clenching the blanket.
Seraphina's voice softened, but only slightly. "If you want to serve me, Kael, then prove you're worth my time. Because right now, all I see is someone who can't even take care of himself, let alone anyone else."
His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.
For a moment, her gaze lingered on him—his hollow expression, the faint trembling in his hands. She hated the flicker of guilt that tried to surface. He'd brought this upon himself, hadn't he?
"I will, Your Highness," Kael said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll prove it."
She didn't respond. Instead, she turned sharply, her tone clipped as she spoke one last time.
"Rest. That's the only thing you're allowed to do right now."
And with that, she swept out of the room, her footsteps fading into silence.
-----
Kael lay still, staring up at the ceiling. Her words echoed in his mind, cutting deeper than he wanted to admit.
A burden.
He closed his eyes, his fists tightening around the blanket. He hated how helpless he felt—how useless. But he wouldn't let it end like this.
Not here. Not like this.
The cold lingered in his bones, but somewhere beneath the exhaustion and humiliation, there was a flicker of something else. Determination.
He would prove himself. No matter what it took.