A short distance down the gallery, tucked behind the deep shadow of an arched stone pillar, young Prince Vaelric stood quietly.
He leaned back against the cool masonry, his posture relaxed, a subtle, ancient intelligence gleaming in his dark eyes.
At eight years old—though physically appearing closer to eleven or twelve due to the arcane trial he had passed within the secret depths of the Stormborne vault three days prior—Vaelric possessed a mind that saw far beyond his years. He had been standing in the alcove long before Cedric had raised his voice, listening to every syllable of the confrontation.
As the quiet weeping of the two princesses echoed softly down the corridor, Vaelric let out a long, heavy sigh, resting his head back against the stone.
