Lyssandra stood frozen for a moment, scanning the faces around her. None of them showed any emotion, but they all gave off a strange aura. An almost ethereal beauty, as if frozen in time.
“How long have you... lived surrounded by them?”
Kael raised his glass, watching the dark red liquid swirl gently in the crystal.
“Long enough to get used to their presence. And not long enough to stop hearing them whisper things I don't understand.”
“And they never speak directly?”
He shrugged.
“Not with their mouths.”
A shiver ran down Lyssandra's spine.
She glanced discreetly around her. The spirits didn't move. Not even a blink of an eye. And yet she could feel... their gaze. Not hostile, nor curious. Just there. Present. Inevitable.
“And they... serve you by choice, is that right?” she whispered, taking another sip of wine.
“Yes. That's perhaps the strangest thing about it all.”
He leaned slightly toward her, elbows on the table, an amused smile playing on his lips.
“Did you imagine me as a tyrannical master, whipping my servants in the cellar until they set the table on time?”
“A little, yes...”
He burst out with a short, deep, almost sincere laugh.
“You're not far from the truth about the whip... but it's not for them.”
Lyssandra nearly choked, setting her glass down sharply.
“You really are hopeless...”
“And yet you continue to sit at the table with me. Fascinating, isn't it?”
She glared at him. He was still smiling, his eyes twinkling, but something in the tension of his fingers on the tablecloth seemed more restrained. More serious.
“These spirits... do you know who they were before?”
Kael's smile faded for a moment. He looked down at his plate, then replied slowly:
“Some were human, once. Others... were not. There are things in this world that neither books nor witches can explain. They serve me because they want to. I didn't ask them for anything.”
“But why you? You're not...”
“Special? Exceptional? An elected king? No. I'm none of those things.”
He stabbed his fork into a piece of meat without looking up.
“Just someone who lives with debts he never incurred. And whose creditors are invisible.”
A strange silence fell.
Even Lyssandra, usually so talkative, sensed that she shouldn't probe any further. Not tonight.
She lowered her eyes, then broke the silence with a fragile smile.
“You still have a knack for ruining the mood just before dessert, don't you?”
Kael looked up, back to his usual self. A mocking expression on his face.
“It's a strategy. The heavier the mood, the sweeter the dessert tastes.”
“Twisted.”
“That's just how I am.”
She didn't answer, but her lips betrayed a small smile.
Then she dared to ask:
“And me... how do they see me? Those spirits?”
Kael stared at her for a moment. His gaze became a little more serious, more... intense.
“They accepted you. That's already a lot.”
“What if they hadn't accepted me?”
He leaned closer, his voice low.
“You would never have seen the morning light.”
The silence in the dining room suddenly became oppressive, as if every breath held in this echo-filled room weighed heavily on her chest. She searched for words, but her voice seemed to dissolve in the ethereal presence of the spirit servants, silent in the face of this strange silent ballet.
Kael looked at her, a mixture of amusement and seriousness shining in his eyes.
“Well?” he asked softly, almost as if to break a spell. “You saw.”
She nodded slowly, still stunned, as if her mind was struggling to process what she had just discovered.
“They... they're not alive. I don't understand. Why... why do they stay here, serving here instead of ascending to heaven?”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Kael rose with nonchalant grace, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms, his gaze darkening slightly.
“Some have forgotten who they once were; others were born outside of mortal time. They are bound to this house, to me... to what I have become. Their only wish, their only reason for being, is to serve me. By choice, by... necessity, perhaps?”
Lyssandra lowered her eyes, feeling her heart race at the strangeness of this revelation, the unknown that floated between them.
“But... how...?” she stammered, her voice trembling, almost broken.
Kael shrugged, a half-smile playing on his lips.
“I don't know any more than you do. These things don't obey human logic. They appear, they stay, and they obey. Period.”
She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. The fire had almost died out, leaving only a residual crackling sound. The room already seemed less oppressive now that she knew the truth, that the shadows had form and intention.
She looked up at him, seeking reassurance.
“I... I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight, now that I know this.”
Kael stood up and walked over to her, placing a light, reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“The spirits won't hurt you. Trust me. They are more loyal than anyone you think you know.”
She felt the weight of his gaze, both protective and unsettling, then timidly looked up at the rows of motionless faces around them. Some seemed to be watching her, but without the slightest hostility, like silent guardians.
“All right,” she finally whispered. “They won't hurt me... but tell me one thing: do they ever rest? How can they stay on their feet like that, without ever faltering?”
Kael smiled predatorily.
“They don't need to rest. They don't have bodies, not really.” They work together, once again, out of simple will: to ensure that nothing is lacking here. You see them standing still, but for them, the concept of day and night no longer exists."
Lyssandra nodded slowly, her hands clenched on her thighs, her breath a little short.
“That's... confusing. Scary, even. But fascinating. Thank you for showing me.”
He moved away gently, grabbed a candle from a nearby candlestick, and placed it on the table, causing the shadows to flicker and come to life.
“Let's go to bed,” he said in a soft voice, almost a whisper. “Tomorrow is another day, and I don't want your thoughts dancing around on their own during the night.”
She stood up, shivering, ran a hand through her hair, then followed him to the door. As she passed the row of spirits, she took one last look at their silent faces, and, strangely, a deep peace came over her. She was not alone, even here.
Kael knew that Lyssandra would not be able to sleep that night. So, without another word, he accompanied her to her room.
She walked behind him, shoulders slumped, silent, as if haunted by the shadows of the dining room.
“Wait for me here; I’ll be back,” he said, stopping in front of the door.
Lyssandra nodded softly.
A few minutes later, he returned, holding a worn, unassuming-looking book in his hands. He entered and closed the door behind him quietly.
Lyssandra, already sitting on the edge of her bed, frowned slightly.
“What... what are you doing?” she asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
Kael didn't answer. He simply approached her, sat down beside her, and leafed through a page of his book.
“Be quiet... and sleep,” he finally said in a calm, almost gentle tone.
She stared at him for a few seconds, a little taken aback.
What's wrong with him? Is he worried... about me?
A discreet smile appeared on her lips. She lay down, gently pulled the sheets over herself, but kept watching him out of the corner of her eye. Kael read, impassive, as if nothing around him mattered.
The heavy silence in the room gradually turned into a strange, soothing bubble. Kael's silent presence was enough to dispel her anxiety. Slowly, sleep overtook her, and her eyelids closed.
Kael waited. Once he was certain she was asleep, he slowly closed the book, rose silently, and approached the bed. He pulled the blanket back over her shoulders, brushed a strand of hair from her face, and then left the room.
He walked down the dark hallway until he reached a door she had not yet crossed. His office.
Inside, a ghostly butler was waiting for him, frozen next to a table covered with documents.
“Master,” he said, bowing slightly.
Kael sat down in the chair behind the desk and let out a long sigh.
“Thank you, Miguel. To you and the others. For playing along tonight.”
“Don't thank us, young master. Besides... it was fun. It's been a long time since we've had such intriguing company.”
Kael smiled faintly, then quickly wiped it away.
“I know I shouldn't lie to her... but I don't want her involved in any of this.”
Miguel nodded, his hands clasped behind his back.
“We understand perfectly, but... if I may ask a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you really want to marry Lady Lyssandra?”
Kael froze. He lowered his eyes, his fingers clasped in front of his face.
“...I don't know.”
“Come now, master, be honest. We know you better than you think.”
Kael slowly straightened up, his gaze dark.
“I'll think about it later. There are more pressing matters.”
His tone grew heavy and serious. Miguel sensed it immediately.
“Has something happened?”
“Yes. The king's summons... It wasn't just to exchange pleasantries.”
The butler narrowed his eyes.
“What did he say to you?”
“It's about the ball being held for the crown prince. He wants me to protect him.”
“Is he afraid of an attack?”
“He's afraid of infiltrators. And he's right. He has too many enemies and too few sincere allies.”
Miguel nodded slowly.
“And you... what do you intend to do?”
Kael remained silent for a moment, staring at a map on the desk.
“I let Lyssandra believe certain things. She will act as a distraction. Her presence will attract attention... and during that time, I will search for the real threats.”
“Master...”
“I know. It's cruel... I'm not proud of it.”
Miguel looked at him with a hint of sadness. He had known Kael his whole life. He knew the burden he carried on his shoulders.
“One last thing, Miguel.”
“Yes, master?”
“I want you to accompany me, too. During the ball. Your mission will be to size up each guest. Identify the most suspicious ones and give me a detailed report.”
“Yes, master. Consider it done.”
Kael stood up, slowly closed a file, and stretched.
“I'm going to bed. Good night, Miguel.”
“Rest well... master.”
He left the room, his footsteps heavier than when he arrived, while the butler remained there alone, his eyes fixed on the flickering candle. A dull uneasiness had just arisen in the shadows.
