Chapter 516 The Sound of Silence

Chapter 516 The Sound of Silence
(Apollo) 

"No..." Apollo spoke before he realised he'd spoken. 
Arkael looked almost amused. "No?" 
Apollo shook his head once. Slowly. "...No." 
The smile upon Arkael's face deepened. 
"You called him Shadow." 
His hand remained resting comfortably upon Cael's shoulder. 
"You trusted him with your kingdom." 
Another heartbeat. 
"You trusted him with your Queen." 
Apollo's breathing had begun to quicken. 
"You trusted him with your life." 
The room seemed to tilt beneath Apollo's feet. 
Arkael's voice remained gentle. 
"My youngest son." 
Silence. 
"Caelum Ashborne." 
Another heartbeat. 
"The Prince of the Emberborn." 
Apollo stared at Cael. Waiting. Waiting for him to deny it. Waiting for him to laugh. Waiting for him to finally speak. Cael never moved. Never protested. Never looked away. 
Arkael's eyes settled once more upon Apollo. 
"I sent him into your palace almost nine centuries ago." 
Every general in the Citadel throne room went rigid. Malachar's face drained of colour. 
Apollo heard none of it. The only sound left in the world was the pounding of his own heart. 
"I gave him one purpose." 
Arkael's fingers squeezed Cael's shoulder almost proudly. 
"When the Queen returned..." His smile was warm. "...he was to find her." 
Apollo felt something inside him begin to crack. Not from grief. From disbelief. Because somewhere, impossibly deep beneath the horror... A single thought still refused to die.
Cael... say something. Anything. 
Apollo did not look at Arkael. His eyes remained fixed upon the male standing beside the throne. Upon the warrior who had walked beside him through almost nine centuries of war. The male who knew every passage beneath the Citadel. Every commander. Every weakness Apollo possessed because Apollo himself had entrusted them to him. None of it made sense. It couldn't. His mind rejected it before reason ever had the opportunity. 
"Cael." His voice carried across the projection with the effortless authority it always had. The voice of a king addressing the commander who had stood at his right hand for centuries. 
"I've heard enough from him." 
Only then did Apollo acknowledge Arkael with the slightest movement of his eyes. 
"I'm asking you." 
Silence answered him. Not uneasy silence. Not hesitant silence. Simply... silence. 
Apollo waited. He had never needed to repeat himself before. Cael had always answered. Always. Whether the question concerned troop movements, diplomatic negotiations or a single scout disappearing somewhere beyond the southern border, Apollo had only ever needed to ask once. Because Cael always answered. 
This time... He did not. 
Something unfamiliar settled quietly beneath Apollo's ribs. Not grief. Not yet. Disbelief. Cold, heavy and impossible. 
His gaze narrowed fractionally. 
"You will answer me." The words were calm. Almost conversational. 
Anyone who knew Apollo understood exactly what that calmness meant. The throne room did. Every general standing behind him had gone unnaturally still. Malachar's breathing had become so shallow it was almost imperceptible. No one interrupted. No one dared. Apollo continued watching Cael with the unwavering certainty of a ruler who had never once imagined that his own command might be ignored. 
It wasn't simply an order. It was habit. Nine hundred years of habit. 
Then Cael looked at him. Their eyes met through ancient magic stretched across the breadth of Hell. Apollo searched the younger male's face with the ruthless efficiency that had made him feared across every kingdom. He looked for the smallest fracture. A tightening of the jaw. The flicker of guilt. Some silent warning hidden where only Apollo would know to find it. 
There was nothing. Only the same disciplined composure Cael had always worn inside the council chamber. The same unreadable face. The same impossible restraint. Apollo realised, with a sensation that felt disturbingly like the ground giving way beneath his feet, that he no longer knew whether that expression had ever belonged to his Shadow... or to Arkael's son. 
A quiet laugh disturbed the silence. Arkael’s voice was taunting. "You still believe he'll contradict me." 
Apollo's eyes never left Cael. 
"I believe he knows better than to remain silent when his king addresses him." 
Arkael smiled. 
"And yet..." He gestured lightly towards his youngest son. "...here we are." 
For the first time since the projection had begun, Apollo looked away from Cael. His gaze settled upon Arkael with such absolute hatred that even the ancient magic carrying the projection seemed to tremble beneath it. 
"I will kill you."