The Stableboy's shadow (BL)

Chapter 8

Percevin had never really had to make decisions. He was ordered around, did what he was told, and his life was simple. One of the only decisions he had made was to become a knight and start his training. They were good decisions, satisfying to take and to put in action. He never regretted a decision, so few as they were.

But this time, he did.

At least a part of him regretted it the second he had seen his travel companion's face fall at the realization of what he'd done. When Riley had been thrown to the ground without fighting back, resigned to his fate. When the knight-to-be was slapped on the back in congratulation. When the man surrounding him cheered their good work. The hunting party assured him he'd done the right thing. That he saved a lot of lives and put a dangerous man away for good, but Percevin had known that they would never have stood a chance against the shadowmaster, and that the only reason he had gotten caught was him. His betrayal.

But they were right; Riley was dangerous.

Still, it had taken Percevin a week to convince himself to go through with it. A week of long silences and quiet observation, while the boy secretly wrestled with the truth. In the first town he entered alone, the Congregation was already there—questioning townsfolk, flashing wanted posters, stirring suspicion. That was when the boy began asking questions himself. About shadowmasters. About what made them so feared.

He started broad, talking to those who claimed to have seen or fought one. He asked what made them dangerous. What signs to look for. Then, the day it all unraveled, he'd asked something more specific: what this shadowmaster had done.

He hadn't even told them Riley's name. Hadn't said he was traveling with anyone. But they must've followed him. Maybe it was the way he asked. Maybe it was how interested he'd seemed. Or maybe they just saw the guilt already blooming in his eyes.

He hadn't been scared when Riley had rushed out of the forest, daggers in hands, alarm painted on his face. At least not of the shadowmaster, but maybe of what might have caused so much urgency.

That was the moment. The moment everything slowed down.

Percevin saw the figures behind him. Congregation men—shouting, drawing attention, closing in fast. Every instinct screamed at him to run. To follow Riley. To trust the man who had saved his life, who had never once raised a hand against him.

But then came the other voice. The one he'd fed every time he asked another question. The one that reminded him of what people said shadowmasters could do. What Riley might be capable of. What the Congregation claimed they were always capable of.

His feet locked in place.

What if they're right? What if he's just waiting for the right moment to turn? What if this is it?

Riley moved to step around him—so quick, so fluid—and without meaning to, Percevin stepped in his path.

His heart dropped into his stomach.

He didn't know why he'd done it. His body moved before his mind had finished deciding. But somewhere, deep inside, a part of him had already made the choice. Not because Riley had threatened him. He hadn't. Not once. But because the doubt had taken root.

Because Percevin had let it.

Riley froze in front of him, confusion turning to disbelief. Then something else—something colder, quieter. Percevin couldn't look away from it. He didn't move. Not even when Riley's bag slipped from his shoulder. Not even when the guards slammed him to the ground and began binding his wrists.

Riley didn't resist.

And Percevin didn't speak. Didn't stop it. Didn't explain.

Even as they dragged Riley away, he kept seeing that moment—when the shadowmaster had looked at him like something had broken, quietly and permanently.