Saturday Morning – Markov Estate, South Courtyard
The air was colder.
Even the sky felt... heavier.
I woke to find a sealed envelope on my nightstand—no wax, no emblem, just my name written in crisp, clean strokes:
Come to the Eastern Wing. No guards. No advisors. Come alone. – E
The Eastern Wing was rarely used. Mostly closed off for repairs.
Or so they claimed.
I dressed in silence.
Didn't tell Leif.
Didn't tell Vincent.
I walked through halls that whispered like old ghosts, past paintings too faded to remember, and down a marble hallway I'd never been allowed to step into before.
At the very end—
An open door.
And inside—
Elias.
The Hidden Room
The space wasn't grand. No throne. No chandeliers.
Just a private dojo.
Weapons lined the walls.
And in the center, a circular mat, framed by red banners and black stone.
He was waiting barefoot on the mat, sleeves rolled, eyes sharp as ever.
He looked me over once.
"You came."
"Was I supposed to ignore my own brother's challenge?"
"I wasn't sure you'd still think of me as your brother."
I stepped onto the mat.
No audience.
No rules.
Just two bloodlines standing on opposite sides of everything.
"This isn't about titles," he said. "It's about truth."
"Then hit me with it."
Words First, Then Blades
We circled each other.
He didn't attack.
Not yet.
"Do you think they gave you Second because you earned it?" Elias asked.
"No."
"Good."
"But I won't let them use me."
"They already are."
His first shot out. I blocked. Barely.
Then he swept my leg—fast.
I hit the mat, rolled up, staggered back.
"You're not here to protect anyone," he said, voice low. "You're here because they need a mask to hide behind."
I lunged.
He sidestepped, caught my arm, twisted—gently—and let go.
"They'll make you smile for the cameras while they ruin everything behind closed doors."
"Then I'll stop them."
"You don't even know what they're planning."
"So, tell me."
That was when he stopped.
Really stopped.
And his voice dropped to something… human.
Elias's Truth
"Clara wants you on her side. But she'll betray you if she thinks it'll save her. Vincent plays the long game—he'll let you suffer if it makes you stronger. And Father?"
He stepped closer.
"Father is hoping you break. So, he can rebuild you into something useful."
Silence.
Then:
"So why help me?"
"Because I've already broken."
I stared at him.
And—for the first time—he looked tired.
Not weak.
Just… tired.
"They turned me into the heir. The perfect one. I did everything right. And still—he named you the Second."
"You're angry."
"No."
He stepped back.
"I'm relieved."
A Moment of Brotherhood
We sat on the floor.
Sweating. Breathing.
No more fighting.
"You don't want the throne," Elias said.
"I don't even want to be here."
"Then walk."
"You know I can't."
He nodded.
"Then listen. And remember this—"
He looked at me dead in the eyes.
"The only way to survive this family is to stop being afraid of becoming one of them."
That Evening – Vincent's Questions
Vincent found me alone, hands bandaged, staring at the fire.
"So," he said. "You met him."
I nodded.
"And?"
"He's not what I thought."
Vincent folded his arms.
"No. He's worse."
I looked over.
"He's honest."
That made Vincent pauses.
"That's what makes him dangerous."
Final Whisper – Anonymous Letter
Late that night, another letter arrived.
No name.
Just a single sentence on thick black paper:
"A vote is coming. And this time, they're not aiming for your title."
Underneath it—
A small smear of crimson ink.
Like a warning.
Or a promise.