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Sarah tucked a hand at his chin, smirking.
“I know. Get back fast.”
Kael was bathing in utter bliss as he turned to slide his fingers over the pad that opened the front door. It only took a moment for the entire tone of the day to be flipped on its head.
With Sarah standing there, he once again found seven members of the King’s guard waiting, the same men he had trained and fought beside for nearly a decade. Some faces were young, and some were seasoned. But all were giving him the same look. The one of seething disappointment.
Kael felt his heart drop and his stomach flip. It wasn’t anxiety. It was an anticipatory betrayal.
“What now?” he snapped.
Two of the guards at the front were holding handcuffs made of Drakonian iron, the only kind that could successfully ward off the natural strength of a man of his stature. The young man gazed at him with pity that made Kael feel ill. The other looked nearly proud.
“The state has received an overwhelming amount of information about a treasonous plot,” the young man said, swallowing with repose, then resuming. “We have been instructed by the King himself to detain you for further questioning.”
Kael clicked into defense mode, spinning on his heels and taking Sarah by the shoulders. It was abrupt, and her eyes had clouded over again with fear.
“Go tend to Suki. This will be over in half a day. I promise.”
He could see the millions of questions posed in her eyes, but she nodded and said nothing. Sarah was smart enough to know the time and place for such a discussion.
And it surely meant something to him that she trusted him enough to stay quiet.
“Don’t let her see,” Kael said, eyes darting up the staircase.
“I won’t,” she replied solemnly.
The cuffs were snapped onto Kael’s wrist, a formality that he still felt was absurd, but he followed through with it on the principle of appearing compliant. They took him to the tower built directly next to the military base, one that he himself had a hand in drawing the blueprints for.
The tower was the polar opposite of any human interpretation. Prisoners were suctioned in behind transparent glass, strong enough to keep them contained. All cells had windows that looked over the cityscape. As bleak and dictatorial as it appeared, it did wonders for dreamers and those seeking to mend their ways.
For Kael, it was an agitating reminder of his own name being slandered. He remained in his uniform but had his cape taken from him for reasons of self-mutilation and potential weaponry. He didn’t blame them for trying.
“I want to see the King,” he demanded. “I know nothing of this treasonous plot. Grant me this as your loyal leader.”
There wasn’t much that the guards could deny since he was the one they usually went to for answers when a prisoner was making requests. The King came promptly, and the playful, trusting, fatherlike figure had vanished. He had the air of a man who had seen the devil unmasked beneath the face of a friend.
“Have you renounced your promise?” King Cosmos said, standing before the glass as the guards lingered nearby.
Kael came to the glass, pressing his forehead against it. The King was surely aging, a mind all the more susceptible to manipulation.
“What evidence is there? Tell me, and I will tell you who has crossed me.”
For the first time in their relationship, the King looked doubtful. He gazed back at the guards, who were all within earshot, and back to the Captain. Kael felt a quiver of false guilt when he thought for a split second that Cosmos was ready to weep.
“Treason, Kael, my boy,” he muttered forlornly. “Treason of the highest cost.”
“Tell me,” Kael hissed, his flat palms pressing upon the glass. “Tell me what yarn has been spun, and I will unspool it.”
The King told him, albeit reluctantly. Apparently, there had been more evidence planted that told the story of Kael seeking to kill a high-ranking officer, Officer Lore Jax. Lore was around Kael’s age and had spoken in the past of wanting to be Captain. But he had his own respected position at the council, and Kael himself had nothing against him.
He wished for a moment that there were bars on the cell he could shake. He needed to know who was behind all of the conniving manipulations. Otherwise, it wouldn’t likely stop until Kael himself was imprisoned indefinitely, or worse.
“Let me investigate this,” Kael whispered, staring into the eyes of the man he had known since he was a youth. “This incessant slander of my good name must cease. Let me free, and I will find out what is going on. You have my promise.”
The King, in informal wear, with his tracings faded into a dull and flat maroon, could have been mistaken for a commoner on the street. He, too, had lost someone close to him and had suffered the consequence with strident poise.
But all of that pain had to go somewhere. Judging by the bruised-colored bags under his eyes, it had boiled up in his stomach and tried to claw its way out of his skin.
