Chapter 63: Faster Than They Expected

The attack came without warning, the way the worst ones always did, slicing through an otherwise ordinary evening while Ren walked with Milo and Finn through one of the palace’s quieter inner courtyards, the three of them enjoying a rare, uncomplicated moment away from investigations and medical scans and the accumulating weight of everything else currently pressing in from every direction.

Ren felt it before he properly saw it, some old, hard-won instinct flaring sharp and immediate, the hair on his arms standing on end a half second before the first shadow detached itself from the courtyard’s ornamental hedges, moving with trained, deliberate speed directly toward Finn.

He didn’t think. His body simply moved, faster than conscious thought could properly track, closing the distance between himself and the boy in what felt like no time at all, his blade already forming around his forearm mid-stride, silver-white light cutting through the evening dusk as he intercepted the attacker’s strike a bare instant before it would have connected.

Steel met energy with a sharp, ringing clash, and Ren shoved the attacker back hard, putting himself fully between the threat and both boys, his pulse hammering with adrenaline even as some newly honed, deeply practiced part of him assessed the situation with startling, clinical speed.

“Milo, get Finn behind the fountain, now,” Ren said, voice sharp and commanding, and Milo, to his credit, didn’t hesitate, grabbing his brother’s hand and pulling him toward the solid stone cover without a single wasted second.

The attacker recovered fast, a second figure emerging from the opposite direction, and Ren felt the shape of the ambush click into place with grim clarity, two coordinated operatives, clearly trained, clearly prepared for exactly this kind of confrontation. He didn’t have time to properly process fear, adrenaline and fierce, protective fury overriding everything else as the first attacker lunged again.

Ren moved to meet him, and the speed of his own response startled even himself, weeks of Reven’s relentless training apparently having built something into his body that operated considerably faster than conscious thought now allowed for, his blade catching the attacker’s weapon in a shower of sparks, his own footwork carrying him through a tight, controlled pivot that put him at an angle neither attacker seemed to have anticipated.

“He’s fast,” the second attacker said, something sharp and alarmed entering his voice as he adjusted his own stance.

“Faster than your intelligence apparently warned you,” Ren said, something cold and furious settling into his voice despite the fear still humming beneath his adrenaline. “You picked the wrong courtyard, and considerably the wrong evening, to go after children.”

The first attacker lunged again, and Ren ducked low, blade sweeping in a tight, controlled arc that caught the man’s weapon and sent it clattering across the courtyard’s stone pathway, momentum carrying Ren forward into a strike that dropped the man hard, clearly non-lethal but decisively, completely incapacitating.

The second attacker hesitated, visibly recalculating, and Ren used the half-second of uncertainty to his advantage, closing the distance before the man could properly reset his guard, his blade flashing in a precise, controlled motion that disarmed him just as cleanly as the first.

Palace security arrived moments later, alerted by the courtyard’s automated threat sensors, and Ren stood over both incapacitated attackers, breathing hard, adrenaline still humming through every nerve despite the immediate danger having passed, and felt, distantly, a fierce, protective satisfaction at having handled the threat entirely himself, without a single moment’s hesitation.

“Elder brother,” Milo’s voice called from behind the fountain, careful but clearly checking for permission to emerge.

“It’s safe now,” Ren said, voice still rough with adrenaline, turning to find both boys cautiously stepping out from their cover, Finn’s face pale but otherwise unharmed, Milo’s expression carrying the same sharp, assessing focus he always brought to genuine crisis.

Finn launched himself forward the moment he judged the distance safe, wrapping tight around Ren’s waist with fierce, frightened urgency. “You were so fast,” he said, voice muffled and shaking slightly. “I didn’t even see you move.”

“I’ve had good training,” Ren said, holding the boy close despite the blade still glowing faintly along his forearm, carefully angling himself to keep any lingering energy well clear of Finn’s small body.

Security personnel swarmed the courtyard within minutes, securing both unconscious attackers, sweeping the surrounding area for additional threats, and Reven arrived at a dead run barely a minute later, Yegard close behind him, both men’s expressions carrying matching, fierce alarm the moment they caught sight of the scene.

“What happened,” Reven demanded, already crossing to pull Ren and both boys into a careful, assessing embrace, checking each of them for injury with rapid, focused attention.

“Two attackers, coordinated, clearly trained,” Ren said, forcing his voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing hard through his system. “They went for Finn first. I got between them before it mattered.”

Yegard’s expression went sharp and dangerous at that, something cold and furious settling into his usually composed features as he studied the two incapacitated attackers now being secured by palace security. “Vorhesk,” he said, recognizing something in their uniform or bearing that Ren himself hadn’t properly registered amid the chaos. “This is considerably more direct than anything they’ve attempted before.”

“They’re escalating,” Reven said, something grim and furious in his own voice, one hand still resting protectively against Ren’s shoulder. “Direct physical attacks on palace grounds, targeting children specifically. This isn’t testing anymore. This is a genuine assassination attempt.”

Ren felt the fear properly catch up with him then, adrenaline finally beginning to fade and leave raw, delayed terror in its place, the full weight of how close Finn had actually come to genuine danger settling heavy and sick in his stomach. “They almost got to him,” he said, voice cracking slightly despite his best efforts to maintain composure. “If I’d been even a half second slower—”

“You weren’t,” Reven said firmly, pulling him properly into a steadying embrace. “You were fast enough. Finn is safe, Milo is safe, you handled two trained operatives without sustaining a single injury yourself. Whatever else this proves, it proves exactly how capable you’ve become.”

Milo, watching the exchange with careful, sharp attention, finally spoke up, voice steadier than Ren expected given the circumstances. “You moved like you weren’t even thinking about it,” he observed, something like genuine awe cutting through his usual careful reserve. “Like your body just knew exactly what to do.”

“Reven’s training,” Ren said again, something exhausted but genuinely proud entering his own voice despite the lingering fear. “Months of drilling exactly this kind of response until it stopped being something I had to consciously think through.”

Yegard crossed to properly examine both unconscious attackers, something cold and methodical in his focused attention. “We’ll need full interrogation protocols,” he said, addressing the palace security officers now securing the scene. “If this is a direct Vorhesk assault on palace grounds, I want every piece of information these two possess, and I want it extracted properly, through legitimate channels, before anyone considers releasing details to the broader Council.”

“Understood, Your Excellency,” the lead officer said, already coordinating the transport of both prisoners toward secure holding.

Ren watched the efficient, practiced cleanup unfold around them, still holding both boys close, exhaustion and lingering fear tangling uncomfortably in his chest despite the crisis having resolved without serious injury to anyone he cared about. “This needs to stop,” he said finally, voice quiet but fierce. “Whatever it takes, whatever resources this requires, I’m not living like this indefinitely, constantly waiting for the next attack to find us in some unguarded moment.”

“It will stop,” Reven said, something absolutely certain in his voice despite the evening’s fresh trauma. “I promise you that. We’ll trace this back through whatever these two can tell us, and we’ll dismantle the Vorhesk faction’s entire capacity to threaten any of you, permanently, regardless of what it costs to accomplish that.”

Yegard returned to their side, something equally determined settling into his own expression. “In the meantime, security protocols are being elevated immediately,” he said. “No more unsupervised movement through palace grounds, even areas previously considered secure. I won’t risk another incident like this one.”

Ren nodded, exhausted agreement settling heavy despite his earlier instinct to resist additional restriction. “Whatever keeps them safe,” he said, glancing down at Milo and Finn both, still held close against him. “That’s all that actually matters right now.”

They made their way back toward the private wing shortly after, security personnel flanking them with considerably more visible presence than before, and Ren felt the weight of the evening’s crisis settle properly into his exhausted bones only once both boys were safely tucked into bed, Finn finally drifting toward sleep despite his earlier fear, Milo watching the door with careful, protective vigilance even as exhaustion clearly tugged at him too.

Ren sat with them a while longer, unwilling to leave until he was certain both boys had genuinely settled, and found himself, once he finally rejoined Yegard and Reven in the common area, sinking gratefully into the warm, steady comfort of both men’s presence, adrenaline finally, fully draining away and leaving raw exhaustion in its wake.

“You did everything right tonight,” Yegard said quietly, settling beside him, something deeply proud and equally protective in his voice.

“I know,” Ren admitted, leaning into the warm, grounding comfort of his presence. “I just wish I didn’t have to. I wish they could just be kids, without worrying about assassins in the garden.”

“We’ll make that possible again,” Reven said, settling on his other side, something fierce and promising in his tone. “Whatever it takes, I promise you that.”

Ren let himself, finally, properly rest against both of them, the evening’s fear slowly easing into something more manageable, held securely between two men who’d proven, again and again, exactly how fiercely they intended to protect everything he held dear.