The first message arrived at dawn.
It was not sealed with wax.
It was not signed.
It simply appeared on the throne room floor.
A single sheet of parchment, untouched by guards, bearing a symbol no one had seen in centuries.
A broken crown.
---
Avelyncè Ryler felt it the moment she crossed the threshold.
The warmth in her chest recoiled.
Fear.
"Someone's here," she whispered.
Caelan didn't ask who.
He already knew.
---
Lord Sevrin Kael stood at the center of the throne room as if he had always belonged there.
No guards stopped him.
No magic resisted him.
The throne did not glow.
It withdrew.
Avelyncè's breath caught.
"This man," Caelan said coldly, "is not welcome."
Sevrin smiled gently. "And yet, I stand."
---
Sevrin's gaze settled on Avelyncè—not hungry, not cruel.
Measuring.
"So you're the answer," he said softly. "How… incomplete."
The throne trembled faintly.
Avelyncè took an involuntary step back.
"You know him," she whispered to Caelan.
"Yes," Caelan replied. "He was erased."
---
"Long ago," Sevrin continued, turning his attention to the throne, "you asked me for balance."
He spread his hands.
"I gave you order. Strength. Survival."
The throne remained silent.
"And when you feared what I became," he said calmly, "you cast me aside."
A chill rippled through the room.
---
Avelyncè swallowed.
"You weren't rejected because you were strong," she said.
Sevrin's eyes flicked to her — sharp now.
"You don't know that."
"I do," she said quietly. "You tried to rule alone."
The warmth in her chest burned.
The throne pulsed once — approving.
---
Sevrin's smile faded.
"So," he murmured, "it speaks through you."
He stepped closer.
Caelan moved instantly, placing himself between them.
"That's close enough."
Sevrin stopped.
"Relax, Prince," he said lightly. "If I wanted her dead, she wouldn't be standing."
A pause.
"I want her to choose."
---
The shard of gold at Sevrin's side glowed faintly.
The throne shuddered in response.
Two halves of a broken will, straining toward each other.
Avelyncè cried out, collapsing to one knee as pain tore through her chest.
Caelan caught her.
"Stop!" Avelyncè gasped. "You'll tear it apart!"
Sevrin watched with something like regret.
"See?" he said softly. "Even now, it cannot decide."
---
He turned away.
"This isn't over," Sevrin said. "You are only a pause."
His gaze lingered on Avelyncè.
"And pauses," he added, "end."
He vanished.
Not in smoke.
Not in light.
Simply… gone.
---
The throne pulsed violently — not with rage.
With grief.
Avelyncè leaned heavily against Caelan.
"…He loved it," she whispered.
Caelan's voice was grim.
"And it loved him once."
---
Far below the palace, the shard cracked again.
This time, on purpose.