Back at the Royal war chamber, the air inside it was thick with tension, heavier than before. The crackling fire had died down to a low, whispering flame, and the shadows clung more fiercely to the corners of the stone room. Alaric remained seated, calm and collected, but the faint flicker in his eyes betrayed the growing irritation in his chest.
Alistair, on the other hand, was seething.
"I won't stand for this," he hissed, stepping forward, his fists clenched tight at his sides. "You're really going to believe that viper over your own blood?"
Alaric didn't even flinch. He simply looked up at his younger brother, eyes cold. "You're speaking too loudly for someone with nothing new to say."
Alistair slammed his palm on the edge of the table, the sound sharp and echoing through the chamber. "Don't patronize me, Alaric! You think this makes you noble? Fair? You're going to let a traitor walk free?"
Sebastian, who had remained near the far wall, finally stepped forward. "Enough. This is unbecoming of both of you."
But Alistair wasn't done. He reached for his dagger, a foolish and reckless stunt, but his pride was boiling. He wasn't actually going to strike, but he wanted to make a point.
Alaric stood immediately, his coat falling behind him in regal ripples as he walked slowly to his brother, looking him dead in the eyes.
"If you raise that blade again, brother," Alaric said, his voice low and razor-sharp, "I will have no choice but to do something you and I might regert. You know what that means."
Alistair paled slightly. Alaric might be calm but he is still the crown prince, he holds more authority over him and he knows what his brother can do.
Alistair lowered the dagger, breathing hard, humiliated but quiet.
Sebastian stepped between them, settling the air. "We have bigger things to worry about. The decision is made. We release Lucian and monitor him closely."
Alaric nodded and turned to Sebastian. "Send word to the royal newscaster. Make it official. The kingdom should know the accused lives, not just lives, but remembers. We will say he is the new royal tutor, appointed temporarily. Let's see who that flushes out."
Sebastian bowed once. "It will be done."
Down in the dungeon, the clank of keys echoed off the moss-darkened walls. Lucian stirred from where he lay curled on the cold floor, his arms wrapped around himself. The chains on his wrists had been removed a day ago, but the bruises lingered, purple-blue and angry.
The cell door creaked open.
Lucian squinted at the sudden torchlight. His vision blurred before clearing enough to see Erin, pale and nervous, standing just behind a guard.
"You're being released," the guard said curtly.
Lucian slowly rose to his feet. His legs trembled beneath him, but he stayed upright. "Released?"
Erin gave him a tiny nod from behind, silently urging him to move.
The walk out of the dungeon was long and silent. Lucian was escorted by two guards through the winding halls, and soon, they reached the war chamber where the princes and the grand general stood waiting.
Lucian entered slowly, his eyes scanning the three men who held his fate. He looked like a ghost of the man he used to be thinner, paler, quieter but something in his gaze remained unchanged. Sharp. Focused.
Alaric stepped forward. "You are a strong one"
"My prince," Lucian said softly, bowing his head.
"Stand," Alaric said. "But we have come to a new conclusion. We are not declaring you innocent yet but we are giving you a chance."
"A chance?" Lucian asked, voice raspy.
Alistair looked away, arms folded, clearly still furious.
"Yes, what do u think, you aren't fully free. You're being named the new royal tutor," Sebastian said.
Lucian's eyes widened slightly, just for a moment. Then he nodded once, slowly. "Anything that pleases my Lords."
"Bear it in mind this is not mercy," Alaric continued. "This is a chance. To verdict yourself."
Lucian smiled faintly, weakly. "Of course, Your Highness. I thank you for the opportunity… to prove myself."
"Don't waste it," Alistair muttered.
"You may leave." Alaric said.
Lucian bowed once more, then turned and followed the guards out of the chamber. Once they were in the hallway, Erin hurried to catch up with him, practically bouncing at his side.
"They're really letting you go," Erin whispered. "But this is dangerous."
"I know," Lucian said, his voice flat. "But we don't have much time."
"Time for what?" Erin said.
Lucian glanced down the hall, then leaned in. "Tonight, we're leaving. This kingdom… it's madness. I've done staying here "
Erin gasped softly. "You… You're escaping?"
"Call it strategy," Lucian muttered. "Or survival. You still know the back corridors?"
"I've used them since I was five," Erin said quickly.
"Good. Bring what you can. Nothing too heavy. We vanish tonight."
The palace corridors were quiet that evening, washed in the dying blue glow of twilight. Servants hurried quietly, unaware that a shift was brewing beneath their very feet. Lucian sat in his old chamber, a room that no longer felt like his dressed in plain dark robes. The golden embroidery had been removed. No noble should shine when slipping through shadows.
He glanced at the paper in his hand, the official royal notice, signed with the crest of the Serathine bloodline:
"Lucian, accused of treason, has been granted release and is appointed as Royal Tutor by decree of Crown Prince Alaric Serathine. "
Lucian's lips curled slightly.
"Truth," he whispered to himself. "That's a luxury no one here can afford."
A soft knock came at the door. Erin slipped in moments later, carrying a small satchel.
"It's time," he said.
Lucian stood, gathering the few things he'd kept a thin dagger, a few cloths and water. He tucked them all away.
Then, without looking back, he followed Erin to the rear hall.
The door creaked open slowly. Cool air rushed in, smelling of dew and distant rain. It carried the scent of freedom, or maybe a different kind of trap.
But either way, Lucian stepped into the night without hesitation.
He had survived the fire.
Now he would walk through its ashes.