Chapter 23 | Confession | Leah
The wind on Moonview Terrace is strong, whipping my long skirt around like a flag about to rip apart.
Kael stands in front of me, his silver-black hair blowing in the night wind. His face stays blank, but I notice his fingers clenching tight, knuckles going white, like he's gripping onto something invisible. Those words—"I'm pregnant"—like a rock, flew out of my mouth and hit him right in the chest.
"Two weeks," I add, my voice shaking. "About two weeks."
That night in the Forgotten Walk. That exact night. Silver moonlight, the smell of blackwood and blood-orange, the fire burning in his golden eyes, the back-and-forth of "mine" and "yours"—everything points back to that night.
I wait for him to react. Anger? Coldness? Disgust? Or worst of all—him turning around and walking away, like Lucian said he would, throwing me out like trash, leaving me to deal with this mess alone.
But he doesn't.
He pulls me into his arms. His hug is gentle, like he's scared of hurting me, like I'm made of glass. His chin rests on top of my head, his breath warm against my hair.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice low, right next to my ear.
"Why are you sorry?"
"Because I didn't protect you. Because I let this happen."
"It was my choice too." I press my face into his chest, breathing in his smell—blackwood and blood-orange, familiar and comforting. "I didn't say no either."
He doesn't say anything. Just holds me tighter.
We stand on Moonview Terrace for a long time, until the wind dies down, until the clouds clear, until moonlight pours over us like a layer of silver frost. His arms stay locked around me. My heartbeat slowly matches his—one fast, one slow, like two drums finally finding the same beat.
"Let's go," he says. "We can't stay here."
"Where?"
"The Owlspire. We need to talk."
I follow him down from Moonview Terrace. His hand holds mine, fingers locked together, palm warm. I can feel his fingers trembling slightly—he's nervous too. This catches him off guard just as much as it does me.
The Owlspire is warm inside. A fire crackles in the fireplace, lighting up the books and scrolls on the shelves. Kael pours me a cup of hot bloodrose tea, the warmth from the cup spreading through my fingers to my whole body.
"Sit," he says. "You need to rest."
"I'm not fragile."
"I know." The corner of his mouth twitches. "But you're pregnant."
The word sounds weird coming from him. Pregnant. Like a spell, like a promise, like a new label stuck onto my already complicated life.
I sit by the fire, watching the flames flicker. Kael sits across from me, his ice-blue eyes catching the firelight, like two burning gems.
"We need to make a plan," he says. "About the pregnancy. About what comes next."
"I haven't thought that far ahead."
"Then start thinking now." His voice is steady, but his fingers tap the armrest—a nervous habit. "The Council's bill. The academy's rules. Our—"
"Our what?"
He looks at me, something complicated in his eyes. Not pity, not scheming—responsibility.
"Our relationship," he says. "The Bloodbond is gone. The mark's disappeared. But we're still tied together. Through the child. Through our choice."
"Is this a proposal?" I ask, keeping my voice light, almost joking.
"No." He shakes his head. "This is me telling you how it is. Whatever happens, I'll be here with you. Not because I have to. Because I want to."
I look at him. At his serious face, at his fidgeting fingers, at the honesty in his eyes.
"I believe you," I say.
He relaxes, like my words just lifted something heavy off his chest.
"But," I add, "we need to face reality. The Council's bill. The academy's rules. If they find out—"
"Then let them find out," he cuts in, his voice hard. "I'm a Prince. I have rights. And you—"
"I'm a Nullblood."
"You're carrying my child." His voice gets louder, with an edge that won't take no for an answer. "Whatever the Council says, whatever the academy's rules are, this child has my blood. Half Noct. That alone protects you."
"Protection, or a bullseye?"
He goes quiet. Because I'm right.
"We need a plan," I say. "Not a fight. A real plan. How to hide this. How to stay safe. How to—"
"How to survive," he finishes.
"Yeah."
We sit by the fire for a long time, talking it through, making plans, arguing. The flames slowly die down to glowing coals, but we keep going. For the first time, we're actually on equal ground—talking about our future, not as Prince and Nullblood, not as teacher and student, but as two people dealing with the same problem.
"There's something else," Kael says, his face getting serious. "About the child."
"What?"
"The child will have my bloodline. Third-Rank Prince. Which means—"
"Means what?"
"Means the child will have strong blood-magic abilities. But it also—" he stops, "—also means the child will be a target. For the Council. For other houses. For anyone who wants Noct blood."
I put my hand on my stomach. Still flat. But there's a life growing there, a life with powerful and dangerous blood.
"Then we'll protect it," I say. "Together."
Kael reaches out and covers my hand with his. His palm is warm, solid, reassuring.
"Together," he says.
The coals in the fireplace flicker one last time, then go dark. But the warmth stays. In our hands. In our chests. In the promise we just made.