Kaelith walked the castle corridor in silence, each step a soft echo against the marble floor.
His body still ached from training. The mana potion's bitterness clung to his tongue like something rotten that refused to fade .
The path to the King's chamber was lined with ancient stone arches and flickering torches, shadows dancing on the walls.
Two royal guards stood at attention outside the double doors, their obsidian-black armor gleaming faintly in the firelight, trimmed with silver and silence.
As Kaelith approached, one stepped forward with a shallow bow.
The other announced, voice crisp and practiced,
"Prince Kaelith seeks your audience, my Lord."
A pause followed.
Then the low, measured voice from within: "Let him in."
The doors groaned as they opened.
Kaelith exhaled slowly, squared his shoulders, and stepped through.
The chamber was warm, dim, and quiet in the way dangerous things often are. Firelight flickered across the velvet-red curtains.
Books lined the walls like quiet sentries. Leather-bound. Dusty. Waiting to be read.
At the far end, King Malrec sat reclined in a high-backed chair, a goblet of wine resting lazily in his hand.
A silver tray of untouched grapes sat nearby like a mere decorative.
His eyes locked onto Kaelith's with chilling precision.
"You're late."
Kaelith didn't flinch. "Training ran long," he replied, voice low and steady.
Malrec's smirk twitched, almost amused. "So I heard."
'He was watching me. Figures. Always lurking like a shadowed judge.'
"How are things going with Caelum?"
King Malrec asked, casually sipping his wine before licking a stray drop from his lip.
And there it is. The real reason I'm here. Again.
Kaelith's jaw clenched.
Just as he parted his lips to speak, the king cut in again.
"This wine... exquisite, isn't it?"
Kaelith glanced at the goblet, puzzled. "I haven't tasted it. So I wouldn't know."
"Oh, come on. Don't give me that puzzled look," Malrec said smoothly, eyes gleaming with a predatory calm. "You could taste it now… and tell me what it's like, Kaelith."
Kaelith stayed silent, glancing at the old man.
'What are you playing at?'
Something about the way his father spoke sent a cold prickle down his spine.
"You know," Malrec continued, swirling the wine gently in his glass, "this wine tastes like power. The bitterness… the sweetness… it's intoxicating. Controlling. The more you drink, the more you want… until you can't stop."
His gaze sharpened.
"That's what power tastes like. And you, my son… you need to become both the wine and the serpent that serves it."
Kaelith's jaw clenched.
'A serpent?' Then he shook his head slowly, a bitter laugh caught in his throat.
Now he understood.
"So you're saying… I should be the wine Caelum drinks…. and at the same time, the serpent that poisons or controls him?" he asked with a sigh, more tired than surprised.
Malrec's eyes gleamed, and without another word, he rose, placing the half-empty goblet of wine onto the tray with a soft clink.
"Exactly." His voice was smug. "I didn't realize you were as sharp as a needle, son."
He turned to face the tall arched window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing out at the shadow-draped courtyard.
"Now," he continued, voice cool and casual, "tell me… how's your progress with the fish?"
The word echoed in the room like a test.
Kaelith didn't answer immediately. He was too busy thinking about the, socalled 'fish', Caelum.
And wondering which of them would drown first.
He kept his tone composed. "He's... difficult. But it's going as you ordered. I'm making him fall for me."
Malrec turned his head slightly, studying Kaelith not like a son, but like a piece on a chessboard, waiting to be sacrificed or crowned.
"And you?" The King's tone softened, but grew sharper. "Are you catching any feelings?"
Kaelith blinked slowly. "If you're asking whether I've lured him into a fairytale without losing myself in it, then yes. Mostly. Though he hates me half the time."
"That wasn't what I asked."
The King's voice cooled like a blade left in snow.
He turned fully now, eyes locking onto Kaelith.
"I asked if you're falling for him. I've seen the way you two look at each other."
Kaelith's breath caught in his throat.
His mask cracked, just slightly.
'Is he mocking me? Or does he truly see it? How do we even look at each other…?'
He turned away, hands curling into fists beneath his sleeves.
Something cold twisted behind his ribs. Sharp. Bitter.
"I don't have the luxury of falling for anyone," he muttered. "Not in this twisted game of yours."
Malrec hummed. "But you didn't say no."
Kaelith snapped his gaze back, amber eyes flaring with something raw, sharp enough to draw blood.
'Oh gods… I might kill this bastard right here and now.'
"Would it matter if I was?" he asked, voice low and tense. "Why the sudden interest?"
The King gave Kaelith a smile, one that never reached his eyes.
"It would matter," he said. "Because falling is weakness. And weakness… always demands a price."
He turned away again, a smile still curling his lips, but it wasn't warmth. It was all teeth.
"And I don't appreciate being questioned. Know your place, boy."
Silence hung thick in the room before Kaelith finally spoke, his voice low and edged like a dagger ready to strike.
"You speak of love like it's a disease."
He took a step forward, eyes darkening. "Is that why Mother died?"
The words hung in the air… too sharp to take back.
Malrec didn't move, but the room felt colder. The silence dragged on. Neither of them said a word.
Kaelith noticed the King's hands twitching. He was losing control.
'Damn it… I didn't mean to say that.'
Kaelith's hand flew to his mouth. He hadn't meant to bring up his mother, not the former Kaelith's, not like this, not now. But somehow, the words had slipped out.
He slowly lowered his hand and stood straighter, trying to stay calm.
Now, all Kaelith could do was wait for the King to speak.
Malrec cleared his throat and turned fully to face him.
A smile curled on his lips, controlled, cold, and empty.
Then, in a voice like ice, he said, "I should have killed you the moment I realized you'd turn out like this."
Kaelith's eyes flickered as he swallowed hard.
'Damn… I really need to watch myself,' he thought.
The King stepped closer, his gaze sharp. "So the answer is yes… you're falling for him?"
His voice was quiet but there was danger behind every word.
But Kaelith, being himself, couldn't let it go. He wanted to know why the King cared so much.
"So what if I fall for him?" he asked, his voice light, almost careless.
"He's not that bad. He even saved your son's life… he saved me."
Malrec raised a brow. Then he laughed, cold, bitter, and sharp. It wasn't amused. It was mocking.
"That's your reason?" he sneered. "Because that ocean creature saved your pretty little neck, now he's a hero?"
Kaelith's expression hardened. His tone turned to steel.
"Yes. Instead of using him like a pawn, maybe… just this once… we could trust him. What he did shows he's willing to help us."
Malrec laughed again, louder and darker this time. There was a glint in his eyes that sent a chill down Kaelith's spine.
"Oh, that's rich," he said, leaning in, the grin on his face twisted. "So... Caelum didn't tell you?"
Kaelith froze. His blood ran cold.
"Tell me what?" he asked quietly, tension building in his chest.
'What is he talking about?' Kaelith wondered, heart thudding in his ears.
Malrec didn't flinch. His voice was calm, but each word hit like a blade.
"It was his idea," he said. No pause. No hesitation. Just cold, cruel truth.
Kaelith blinked. "Idea? For what? I don't understand."
The King's smirk widened.
"The assassin," he said. "Do you know who sent her?"
Everything inside Kaelith froze. He tried to reason it out, but then the realization hit him.
Words disappeared. The floor felt like it shifted beneath him.
He saw it again, the assassin and
Caelum's arrival. It was too perfect and well-timed.
He remembered how Caelum had looked at him afterward, like he was fragile.
Not with guilt.
Something softer. Sadder.
Kaelith's lips parted in disbelief. His heart skipped a beat.
"I see you've figured it out," Malrec said with a laugh as he walked to the tray, grabbed his goblet, and drank the last of his wine.
"And here you are," he added smugly, "praising him."
"Anyway, you should try the wine. It's delicious."
Kaelith didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Still, a smile crept onto his face shaky, bitter, and barely holding together.
The King smiled too, watching him.
Kaelith turned without a word. His steps were slow and measured as he walked out. The heavy doors creaked shut behind him.
The corridor outside felt colder now.
Each step echoed louder than before.
Servants moved aside like shadows, bowing and avoiding his eyes.
But Kaelith didn't notice.
He was too lost in thought.