Despite the tension in the air, some nobles were more interested in the crown princess's reaction than the crown prince's fate.
Princess Lyra stood in shock, petrified, drawing their gazes.
'Did the priestess attack him? What the hell happened in there?'
Ana moved closer to shake her out of her field of thought, concern etched on her face.
"Princess Lyra, are you alright?"
''Aah...''
She glanced around, at the eyes set on her.
'Are they more interested in my reaction than the heir's life? Damn these nobles.'
She glanced in the direction Aiden had taken a while ago.
'Some of them look worried, though. Should I act worried? Do they know the monster doesn't die? If he can, he would have.'
She glanced back at Ana.
'I should act worried, huh? I won't want any rumors about me that will affect my family. I might as well give them a show.'
She staggered, clutching tight to Ana's wrist.
''Is that the crown prince?''
Lyra's emotions seemed to build up. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, her body trembling. The surrounding nobles murmured, their voices growing louder as they speculated about the crown prince's fate. Ana held her.
''Calm down, I'm sure it's fin...''
''His blood was...gushing... Is he...Aah...'' Lyra faked a dramatic panic, her knee buckling. Her voice rose to a crescendo, her body arching in a perfect faint.
Murmuring grew louder.
"Princess Lyra!" Ana exclaimed, catching her as she stumbled. "Guards!"
Ana called the imperial guards, but before they could get to them, Lyra was already halfway into a perfect fainting strategy. She had gasped, clutched her chest, and increased her breathing momentum.
The nobles gasped, their murmurs growing louder as they speculated. The guards lifted Lyra, rushing her to the physicians. By now, she had carried out her act, lying limp and unresponsive.
'One way to get a free ride, I'd say,' she thought to herself, her eyes closed in a convincing display of distress.
...
The palace had quieted down in no time. With the order from the emperor that the nobles should return home and speak no word of the crown prince, only those who wished to stay remained.
As the physicians hope to revive the unconscious prince, the king visited the dungeon where they had locked the high priestess.
The once elegant high priestess was now downgraded into a pitiful existence, as she lay limp in the dungeon. She had to attack the crown prince, slitting his throat with the edge of her ceremonial bell when the king showed no intention of carrying out her request.
The first prince's counterattack reduced her to this state right after her attack, before the crown prince's eyes even shut.
As the king approached, she sensed his majestic presence, making her sit up. Beside him was the first prince Viktor, the execution Lord of the void.
''May the spirit, light and nature guide you. I greet the emperor, she bowed her head to the ground. ''I greet the first prince, Lord Viktor.''
King Gemma's eyes gave off no emotions, nor did he say much. His exact words were:
''Why did you do it?''
The priestess, raising her head a little, before cowering back.
''I have committed a grave sin, your Majesty; however, I did what I had to do.''
The king expression didn't falter, nor did he react. Instead, he asked.
''What did you see?''
As the question landed, dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She shuddered visibly, her eye twitching.
'can't explain it...I don't know. It was endless... Pure evil...''
Both royals glanced at themselves and back at the cowering female.
''You'll face execution for attempting to murder the crown prince,''
Her face fell at his majesty's words, her mouth parting without the tendency to close.
''You should have expected this when you attacked him.''
Despite the initial shock, she forced herself to nod, releasing a dry laughter of anguish.
"I saw...I saw something that can't be undone," she whispered, her voice trembling. "The crown prince...he's not what he seems. His darkness is...it's consuming him from the inside out...no, he's the darkness. He's a force of evil,''
''A force of evil?'' The first prince almost snorted loudly.
''If you give him the throne, we're done...No! If he is left alive. We're done!"
She scrambled to her feet, moving closer to grip the rail. Her eye seemed to widen in remembrance.
''Under the palace,''
The king's expression remained unreadable, but Viktor's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?" Viktor asked, his voice firm.
The High Priestess hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.
''The dungeon of the ruins...under the palace,''
The king's gaze intensified suddenly, his eyes boring into the High Priestess's very soul. It was like he was reminded of something that should be buried in history. "Go on," he commanded.
The High Priestess swallowed hard, her throat dry. ''He perfectly gave off the feeling of that beast.''
Viktor's expression turned skeptical.
'That beast? Dungeon of ruins?'
As he glanced at the emperor, he could have sworn he saw his father's mouth shake.
''Umbrathar...''
The High Priestess nodded fervently. "Yes! He gave off that ominous energy!''
'Umbrathar?' The first prince made a mental note. 'Is it one of the palace secrets?'
Silence reigned afterwards, the air thick with tension. And then, in a split second, it was gone, almost like the conversation never started.
The king spoke calmly, but his voice took on a slightly different tone. "You'll remain here until your execution is carried out."
The High Priestess's face fell, her eyes welling up with tears. She slid down the bar, her eyes widened, and her face was pale.
The king exited the dungeon, the air heavy. One last glance at her, the first prince followed.
...
...
Princess Lyra's eyelids fluttered open to soft light and the faint scent of herbs in the royal treatment room.
She lay still for a moment, taking stock of her surroundings and recalling the events that had led her there, before sitting up.
''Now, that's a good sleep I haven't had in a while,''
She could see the physicians and attendants bustled about outside, through the slightly opened door, their faces a blur.
Her body felt heavy, but her mind raced—she needed to know the truth about Kaelin, or at least not miss the look on their faces when he suddenly opened his eye. Quietly, she slipped out, careful not to alert the attendings.
The palace halls were empty and echoing. Her heart hammered as she neared the chamber where she suspected the prince's healing chamber to be, hearing hurried footsteps and murmurs of physicians.
The door to the crown prince's room was ajar,
Physicians were everywhere—shouting orders, rushing across the chamber, carrying bowls of steaming herbs, armfuls of cloth, and glimmering tools that clattered against one another. The air was thick with the bitter scent of blood and incense, heavy enough to sting her throat.
Lyra pressed herself against the icy wall beside the doorframe, hidden in the shadows. Her heart pounded as she watched them circle the bed, their hands flying in frantic precision.
"More pressure on the wound!"
"Fetch the dark root salve!"
"He's losing too much—hurry!"
Their voices overlapped, sharp and urgent, rising and falling like waves.
She stayed still, unseen, waiting for that moment—waiting for the familiar sigh, the slow movement, the strange calmness he always carried even after chaos. Waiting for him to open his eyes as though none of this mattered.
But the turmoil began to quiet.
One by one, the physicians stepped back, their shoulders sagging in defeat. Their whispers dulled into silence. Bowing low, they gathered their tools and herbs, then shuffled out of the chamber without a word.
The door closed behind them.
Only silence remained.
Lyra's breath shook. Slowly, she edged closer, her fingers firm against the door as she leaned in to look.
She wished she hadn't.
Aiden sat on the blood-soaked bedding, Kaelin cradled in his arms like a broken doll. Motionless and pale as marble, Kaelin buried his face in Aiden's shoulder. Blood seeped everywhere—the sheets, Aiden's robes, even Kaelin's hair was streaked red. The sight was unnatural, obscene, like life itself had recoiled from the room.
Aiden wept, his shoulders trembling with each stifled sob. His voice cracked in hoarse fragments, words too broken to be understood.
Lyra's lips parted soundlessly. Her throat locked.
For the first time since she had known him, the thought pierced her chest like ice: He might truly be dead.
He isn't suddenly opening his eyes or giving off that crazy grin. His hair isn't growing longer, and his eyes are not flashing.
Her knees gave way. A chill raced down her spine, her heart stopping in her chest.
'He's not getting up. Why is he not getting up?'
Her leg moved before she could resist.
''My lord,''
Aiden's gaze snapped up, and his brow furrowed at the unfamiliar lady. His eyes were pale and stressed. As for Lyra, the world had narrowed to Kaelin, her betrothed.
Reality began to set in, her present and future playing out right before her eyes.
How the fifth prince would receive her and how her life will unfold in a direction she dares not imagine.
She staggered as she got closer.
The room tilted, blurred. She stumbled backwards.
And then, before she could stop herself, darkness claimed her—
And she fainted.
TBC...