The hum of voices rolled through the great hall like a restless tide, laughter and gossip rising and falling beneath the brilliance of crystal chandeliers. The scent of wine and perfume clung to the air. Rowan followed Aelric deeper inside, the murmur of nobles faltering as eyes turned toward them.
Whispers stirred like dry leaves in the wind. Surprise flickered across a few faces, Rowan walking at the prince's side was not what they had expected. Some bowed, others stiffened, but most simply stared.
Aelric, unfazed, carried himself with easy grace, his hand brushing Rowan's arm as if to remind him not to falter. He led him toward a quieter corner where two cushioned seats awaited. "We'll stay here for now," Aelric said cheerfully, though Rowan could feel the invisible weight of gazes pressing down on him like chains.
It wasn't long before a group of boys broke from the crowd. Their silks gleamed in the torchlight, every stitch shouting wealth, every step rehearsed with the arrogance of bloodlines that had never known struggle.
"Cousins," Aelric muttered under his breath, lips curving in annoyance. "Don't worry. They bark more than they bite."
The boys bowed with polished grace, but one lingered longer, his smile too smooth, too practiced.
"Your Highness," he said, tone syrupy, "might we borrow your company? My father wishes to speak with you."
Aelric frowned, eyes darting toward Rowan. "Now?"
"It won't take long," the cousin replied smoothly, already stepping closer as if Aelric's agreement was assumed.
Rowan's eyes narrowed, but he stayed quiet. He wasn't here to drag Aelric into a quarrel with his own family. Aelric hesitated, then let out a reluctant sigh. "I'll be back," he said, squeezing Rowan's shoulder before letting himself be led away.
The moment the prince's back was turned, the cousin's mask cracked. His lips curled into a sneer, voice low enough to escape the ears of courtiers but sharp enough to cut.
"So this is the shadow keeping His Highness from us. Do you really think his kindness belongs to you?"
Another boy stepped forward, smirking. "You've been clinging to him like a stray mutt. Because of you, he no longer entertains us. Do you even realize how laughable you look? Sitting there as though you're his equal?"
Rowan's jaw tightened. He met their eyes, unflinching, but said nothing.
"Silent, are you?" the first boy pressed, leaning closer until Rowan could smell the faint trace of spiced wine on his breath. "Then listen carefully, keep leeching off the prince and you'll pay for it. Tell him about this, and you'll regret it." His smile turned razor-thin. "Don't think that fake title of 'prince' will save you."
Rowan's fists curled tight against his sides, nails biting deep into his palms. His body trembled faintly, not from fear, but from the sheer effort it took not to break their teeth right there.
The boys chuckled, satisfied, just as footsteps echoed back toward them.
Aelric reappeared, and their confidence withered. They straightened at once, bowing hastily, excuses tumbling from their mouths as they melted back into the crowd.
Aelric's gaze lingered on their retreating backs, eyes cold with steel. Then he turned to Rowan. "What did they want?"
"Nothing," Rowan muttered.
Aelric studied him a moment longer, then clapped his shoulder, firm and reassuring. "Don't mind them."
Rowan only nodded, though the echo of their words burned in his chest like a coal he couldn't put out.
The ceremony dragged on, endless speeches, music, nobles pressing close to flatter the young prince. Rowan drifted into the background, ignored, unseen, which suited him fine. This part wasn't meant for him.
"I'll be outside," he murmured at last.
Aelric turned at once. "Then I'll come too."
Rowan shook his head faintly. "No. These people are here for you. Do your duties. I'll be fine."
The prince's brows furrowed, reluctant. Finally he gave a short nod. "Just for a little while, then. I'll come find you after I'm done."
Rowan answered simply. "alright."
He slipped away from the hall, stepping onto a wide balcony where the cool night air wrapped around him like a balm. Below, the city stretched in soft lantern-light, rooftops glowing faintly like embers scattered in the dark. Rowan let out a long breath, shoulders sinking with the weight he hadn't let anyone see.
Here too, huh? Rowan thought bitterly, staring up at the jeweled night sky. Why can't they just mind their business? Do I have a face that invites scorn?
"Coward."
The voice was low, sharp. Rowan turned. A girl leaned against the railing, auburn hair catching the moonlight, her eyes bright and unyielding.
"What did you say?" His voice was flat, clearly more interested in her words than her identity.
She smiled faintly, almost amused. "You heard me. You're a coward."
Rowan's brow furrowed. "And why do you think that?"
"You let those boys spit on you and said nothing," she said simply, as though stating a fact. "Why didn't you put them in their place?"
Rowan's voice came quiet but edged. "And what would you have me do? Strike them? Cause a scene in the middle of the ceremony?"
Her lips curved. "Yes. If that's what it takes. Unless you were planning to take revenge afterward… but I already know you weren't. You'd most likely keep enduring until the day it becomes too much."
He stared at her, words stuck in his throat.
"You think silence makes you strong? No. Silence is submission." Her head tilted, eyes gleaming. "I heard that the day you left Vexlaar, three boys were found dead in the estate. And here's the interesting part, just a day earlier, those same boys had been beaten half to death… by your hands. Everyone who heard the whispers knew it was you. Let me guess, tormentors, weren't they? They kept pushing until they finally crossed the line and you snapped."
Rowan's breath caught. His voice hardened. "How do you know news related to Vexlaar?"
"Not a big deal… news finds me." She stepped closer, her gaze locking onto his. "When you could do something like that in Vexlaar, where you were treated like filth, why do you tremble here in Nirathal, where you're a prince?"
Rowan clenched his fists. "I am not trembling."
She laughed, low and sharp. "Then why does your voice shake?"
Heat flushed his chest. Anger coiled, not at her but at the truth in her words.
"I also heard what you said in Vexlaar's court. Tell me, was that just a child's tantrum? Empty words?"
Rowan's jaw locked, but he stayed silent.
Her eyes narrowed. "So you hide. You let yourself be mocked. You let them walk over you. And you dare to speak of vengeance?"
Rowan snapped, his voice low and rough. "And what would you know of it? What do you know of me?"
A flicker of approval lit her gaze at his spark of defiance. She leaned in, her whisper sharp as a blade. "I know enough. Enough to see that you're not certain of yourself. That you're still shackled by fear of consequences, trying to hide behind excuses."
His chest tightened, breath sharp, but he met her stare without flinching.
At last she straightened, lips curving into a grin. "You'll either prove me right… or prove me wrong. I hope for the second."
Rowan forced the question through his teeth. "Who are you?"
She dipped her head, her voice lilting with mockery. "Ember Ashvall. For you, elder sister, little brother."
Before Rowan could speak, a voice rang from inside the hall. "Princess! Where are you? His Majesty grows impatient!"
Ember sighed, turning toward the sound. "Duty calls." She glanced back one last time, her eyes gleaming like coals. "Don't disappoint me."
Then she was gone, slipping inside, leaving Rowan alone beneath the stars. Her words still burned like fire in his chest, refusing to fade.
Rowan let out a short, hollow laugh, the sound almost lost to the night wind.
"Coward, huh?" he muttered under his breath. "Can't even shut up a few spoiled kids… and I dream of standing against House Vexlaar?" His lips twisted, bitter. "Truly laughable."
He gripped the railing until his knuckles whitened, the city lights blurring below him. The stars sprawled above, vast and indifferent, and he wondered if they mocked him too. For all his words, all his vows, here he stood, silent, seething, unable to lift his voice against a handful of sneers.
A faint scuff of boots stirred him from his thoughts. He turned to see Aelric stepping onto the balcony, worry easing into a smile when their eyes met.
"There you are," the prince said softly. "I was beginning to think you'd vanished."
Rowan straightened, forcing the bitterness from his face. "No. Just… getting some air."
Aelric tilted his head, studying him. "You look like you're carrying the whole hall's weight on your shoulders."
Rowan gave a small, humorless smile. "Maybe I am." He pushed away from the railing, his tone sharper now, more certain. "Let's go back. I have something to do, otherwise I won't get any sleep tonight."
Aelric arched a brow. "Something?"
Rowan's gaze flicked toward the hall, then back to the stars. His voice was low, edged with steel. "Something I should've done the moment they opened their mouths."
For a heartbeat, silence lingered between them. Then Aelric's smile curved, faint but fierce. "Then let's make sure you don't lose any sleep."
Rowan exhaled, steadying himself. Together, they stepped back toward the warmth and clamor of the hall.