The royal war chamber glowed dimly under the light of iron sconces and crackling hearth fire. Shadows danced across the stone walls, mirroring the tension that filled the air. At the center of the room stood three figures : Crown Prince Alaric Serathine, his younger brother Prince Alistair, and Grand General Sebastian Valemir.
Alaric, clad in a deep crimson coat, his golden hair loose over his shoulders, was seated at the head of the long oaken table, his brows drawn in contemplation. He tapped the edge of a goblet absently, his sharp eyes focused on the crackling fire.
"So what now?" Alistair broke the silence first, his voice low but simmering with restrained fury. "We keep that liar alive? He's wasting our time."
Alaric didn't answer immediately. Instead, he raised his gaze slowly. "He might not be lying."
Alistair's face twisted. "You can't be serious,Alaric."
"He was found right at the scene," Sebastian said calmly, arms crossed as he stood near the window. "Blood on his hands, yes. But no murder weapon. No sign of struggle. His story hasn't changed not even once and you've seen how people break when they lie under torture."
Alistair scoffed. "Lord, am I the only sane one, the reason why it's like that is because he has practiced. He's too composed for someone innocent. You saw his eyes like he wasn't even human."
"I saw eyes full of pain," Alaric replied, leaning forward. "And fear. Not of dying… but of being misunderstood."
"You've always been too soft, Alaric," Alistair snapped. "You think every man deserves a second chance. That's not how our kingdom works. If we let him live, people will say the royal family is indecisive and weak."
"We're not here to save our image," Alaric said, now clearly irritated. "We're here to find out who killed Reniel. If Lucian is innocent and we kill him then the real killer walks free. Maybe laughing at us. Alistair, try to understand."
Alistair paced now, his boots thudding against the marble floor. "There is nothing to understand, Alaric. He's a noble commoner, a scholar. That type is sly. They manipulate with words and hide behind manners. You think he's not capable of betrayal?"
"I'm not saying I trust him," Alaric said. "But we've tortured him. Starved him. Poisoned him. And still, he hasn't cracked. That means one of two things: either he's telling the truth, or he's better trained than we think. Either way, I say we use him to lure out the real killer."
Sebastian finally turned from the window, speaking with the cold logic that had made him the most feared general in the realm.
"I agree with the Crown Prince," he said, casting a brief glance at Alistair. "If we release Lucian under controlled observation, and the real killer believes he might speak, they'll act. Either to silence him… or run."
Alistair's eyes darkened. "Wait, you guys can't be serious, you guys want to use him as bait?"
"No,brother" Alaric said, standing. "I want to use him as a key."
Sebastian gave a curt nod. "Yes, that will be good, let's feed the palace some rumors. Leak it subtly that Lucian has remembered something. If someone moves in the shadows, or tries to hurt him then we'll catch them."
"I don't like it," Alistair muttered.
"You don't have to like it, brother." Alaric said flatly. "You just have to obey the chain of command."
Alistair's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He had always hated Alaric guts but he can't do nothing since Alaric is the one that makes the final verdict.
Unbeknownst to the three men, a small figure had been pressed against the side hallway wall just outside the chamber, concealed behind a pillar. Erin's breath had gone still the moment the voices inside had risen. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop truly he had just been delivering a scroll to one of the guards when the names in the conversation caught his ear.
Lucian… witness… killer… poison…
His blood ran cold. He hadn't known the full story of what happened to Master Lucian. Only whispers, and rumors, and the fact that no one was allowed near the dungeon. But now, he'd heard enough.
Alaric wanted to free him.
And Alistair wanted him dead.
Erin waited until their voices faded, until he was sure they wouldn't suddenly come bursting through the doors. Then he slipped away, heart pounding as he scurried down the servants' passage ,one he had used since he was a child in the palace. He didn't stop until the scent of moss and damp stone greeted him near the lower levels.
The dungeon.
He whispered a few words to the guard stationed at the door, a friend he had bribed with a bottle of sweet wine and a small painting. The guard reluctantly let him in, muttering that he had "two minutes or less."
Erin rushed to the cell where Lucian lay, pale and hunched in the shadows.
"Master Lucian!" he hissed.
"Oh my Lord, you look terrible" Erin said.
Lucian stirred, groaning as he lifted his head. His once-gleaming blonde hair was now tangled and dull, his face bruised and sunken, but his eyes still held a quiet intelligence. He blinked slowly.
"Erin?"
"I don't have much time," Erin said, kneeling by the bars. "I overheard the princes and the grand general. They were arguing… about you."
Lucian's breath caught. "What… did they say?"
"Crown Prince Alaric thinks you're innocent. He wants to release you and use you to catch the real killer. Grand General Sebastian agrees… but Prince Alistair, he wants you dead, Master. He really wants it."
Lucian's eyes trembled. "Alaric and Sebastian believes me?"
"Not sure, my lord." Erin whispered quickly. "They plan to use you to draw out the real culprit. They want to make it seem like you remembered something."
Lucian leaned back against the wall, his hand covering his mouth. For the first time in days, a flicker of hope pierced the agony in his chest.
"They might release me?" he whispered.
Erin nodded. "It's not certain yet. But they're talking about it. You just need to hold on."
Lucian's lips curved into the faintest trace of a smile fragile and aching.
"I will," he said quietly. "I'll endure… a little longer."
Erin gave his hand a quick squeeze through the bars.
"I'll come again when I can."
Then he was gone.
Lucian closed his eyes and whispered the first real prayer since his imprisonment not for vengeance, but for truth to rise, and for Alaric's belief to hold.