Kael's POV
The letter in my father's hands is shaking.
That's the first thing I notice when I walk into his study—not the broken wax seal, not the morning sun streaming through the windows, but the way Father's fingers tremble as he reads. Lord Evan Thornhaven never shakes. Not when he negotiates with orc traders twice his size. Not when bandits attacked our grain stores last winter. Never.
"Father?" I step closer, my birthday completely forgotten. "What's wrong?"
He looks up at me, and my stomach drops. His face has gone gray. "Three villages burned last night. Orc raiders. Women and children..." He swallows hard. "All dead."
The words hit me like a punch. "That's impossible. Chief Urgoth's clans would never—we've traded with them for ten years!"
"I know." Father sets the letter down carefully, like it might explode. "That's what worries me."
Before I can ask what he means, my oldest brother Marcus bursts through the door. "Father! Soldiers at the gates! Royal banners—and Sanctum Inquisitors!"
My blood goes cold. The Holy Sanctum only sends Inquisitors when they suspect treason.
Father stands up fast, his chair scraping against stone. "How many?"
"Fifty soldiers. Maybe more." Marcus is breathing hard. "They're demanding you open the gates immediately or they'll break them down."
"This is wrong." Father's voice is barely a whisper. "This is all wrong. The timing, the attacks, the Inquisitors..." He grabs my shoulders suddenly, his eyes intense. "Kael, listen to me. Whatever happens today, remember that I loved our orc neighbors like brothers. Remember that truth matters more than—"
"LORD EVAN THORNHAVEN!" A voice booms from outside, magically amplified to shake our walls. "By order of the Principality and the Holy Sanctum, you are commanded to present yourself for questioning regarding acts of treason!"
The word treason echoes through the manor like thunder.
My mother appears in the doorway, her face white. My other two brothers, Willem and David, are right behind her, hands on their swords.
"Edmund, what is this?" Mother's voice cracks.
Father looks at each of us, and I see something I've never seen before in his eyes: fear. "They're going to use me as an example. To make the war feel justified." He turns to Marcus. "Open the gates. If we resist, they'll kill everyone in the village."
"Father, no!" David steps forward. "We can fight—"
"And get everyone we love slaughtered?" Father shakes his head. "No. I'll face them. Kael—" He pulls me close, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. "—the orc raids don't match their tactics. Someone wanted this war. Someone powerful. If anything happens to me, find out who."
"Nothing's going to happen—" I start, but the doors explode inward.
Soldiers pour into our manor like a flood. They're not here to ask questions. They're here to take.
At the center walks a man in white robes embroidered with gold—a Sanctum Brother. He's beautiful in a terrifying way, with platinum hair and cold blue eyes that seem to glow with divine light. Everyone in the Principality knows Brother Aldric. Everyone fears him.
"Lord Evan." Aldric's smile is gentle, which makes it worse. "Such unpleasantness could have been avoided with cooperation."
"I've committed no treason." Father's voice is steady now, calm. "I'm loyal to the Principality."
"Are you?" Aldric tilts his head. "Then explain these."
An Inquisitor steps forward holding papers. Letters. My father's seal is on them, but something's wrong—the wax looks too fresh, the paper too new.
Father's face hardens. "Those are forgeries. I never—"
"Kael?" A familiar voice makes me turn.
Gareth Ashford stands in the doorway. My best friend. We trained together as squires, shared every secret, swore we'd be knights together someday. His golden hair catches the sunlight, and for a second I'm relieved—Gareth will help us, he'll tell them Father's innocent.
Then I see his face. Guilt. Shame. But also determination.
"Gareth?" I take a step toward him. "Tell them. Tell them Father would never betray the Principality."
He won't look at me. "I'm sorry, Kael. But I can't lie. Not even for you."
The world tilts.
"Young Ashford." Brother Aldric gestures him forward. "Tell us what you witnessed."
"No." The word is barely a breath. "Gareth, no, please—"
"I saw Lord Evan meeting with orc chieftains in secret three weeks ago," Gareth says, his voice flat. "They gave him gold. He gave them maps of our village defenses. I didn't want to believe it, but..." He finally looks at me, and I see tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. But he planned to help them invade. I heard him say it."
"LIAR!" I lunge at him, but soldiers grab me, slamming me to the floor.
My father's voice cuts through everything: "My son had nothing to do with this! He's innocent!"
"Of course." Brother Aldric nods kindly. "We believe the young man. In fact, we'll give him a chance to prove his loyalty." His smile widens. "He'll serve in our armies. The penal legions, I think. The front lines need fresh soldiers."
That's a death sentence. Everyone knows penal legions are where they send criminals to die.
"No!" Mother screams. "He's just a boy!"
"He's nineteen today, actually." Aldric checks a paper. "Perfect age for service. As for you, Lord Evan..." He gestures, and soldiers drag my father toward the door. "The village square is already prepared. The people need to see what happens to traitors."
My blood turns to ice. "Prepared for what?"
Father looks back at me one last time. "Remember what I said, Kael. Find the truth. Promise me."
"Father—FATHER!"
They drag him out. My brothers try to fight. Swords flash. Blood sprays across the morning sun streaming through the windows.
Willem falls first, a sword through his chest. David dies trying to protect Mother. Marcus makes it three steps before five soldiers cut him down.
Mother's screaming turns into something animal, something broken.
I'm still pinned to the floor, forced to watch my brothers die, their blood spreading across the stones like a dark promise.
Brother Aldric kneels beside me, his white robes somehow still spotless. "You'll march to the front lines tomorrow, young Thornhaven. Try to die well. It's the only way you can restore your family's honor now."
He stands and walks out, stepping over Marcus's body like it's nothing.
Gareth lingers in the doorway. "Kael, I—"
"Get out." My voice doesn't sound like mine anymore. "Get out, or I swear I'll kill you."
He leaves.
The soldiers haul me to my feet and drag me toward the door. I can hear the village gathering outside, can hear my father's voice calling out his innocence.
Then I hear the executioner's drum begin to beat.
And I realize with horrible clarity: my father was right.
Someone wanted this war.
Someone powerful enough to forge evidence, turn best friends into traitors, and execute innocent men in front of their sons.
The question is: why?
The drum beats faster.
I'm about to watch my father die, and I don't even know what he discovered that made him dangerous enough to kill.