Prince Henry moved quickly through the eastern wing of the palace, his stride long and unrestrained as he headed toward the royal center. Anger and urgency propelled him forward, leaving no room for hesitation. By the time he reached the guarded entrance to King Alexander's study, his resolve had hardened into something fierce.
"Your Majesty, I, Prince Henry," George, the head of the King's bodyguard, began from behind him.
King Alexander raised a single hand before George could finish, "Leave us."
The guards withdrew at once. George closed the doors behind him, sealing the room in silence and secrecy.
"My son," the king said softly, rising from his chair and gesturing to the seat across from him. He already knew why Henry had come. The knowledge sat heavily on his chest.
"My father," Prince Henry replied, sitting without ceremony, "King of Vertox." His eyes never left his father's face.
King Alexander waited.
Henry drew a breath, "I found Helena in tears. She was distraught, broken as I saw. What she told me made no sense." His voice tightened, "Please, Father. Tell me what you have done."
The king rested his hand against the arm of his chair, fingers curling slowly, "Henry," he said, "I made a terrible mistake long ago."
Henry exhaled, bracing himself. In his heart, he already feared the truth he might hear.
"When you were two," King Alexander continued, lowering his gaze, "and your mother carried Helena in her womb, our kingdom faced war on two fronts. I was leading our forces when I saw my father beheaded before my eyes. In that moment, the crown passed to me, along with the burden of saving Vertox."
Henry remained silent, his face rigid.
"I returned to camp one night," the king went on, voice thick with memory, "I heard soldiers whispering of the thirty-seven years of war, of families lost, of exhaustion and despair. Then I saw your mother. And you. So small. Laughing. I wanted an end to it all. I wanted peace for all of us."
He swallowed, "That was when something came to me. Beneath a sky without stars. A presence that offered victory, strength, and prosperity. Everything Vertox needed."
"And the price?" Henry asked quietly.
King Alexander hesitated, "The child in your mother's womb."
Henry stiffened, "Helena."
The king nodded.
Henry's voice sharpened, "And who was this being?"
A long pause. Then, "Lucifer."
Henry stared, "Lucifer," he repeated, "The Lucifer."
"Yes."
"So you intended to give my sister to him," Henry said, rising anger bleeding into his words, "To marry her to a demon."
King Alexander did not deny it.
"Why now?" Henry demanded, "Why not when she was a child before she ever knew what you had done?"
"The pact specified her seventeenth year," the king said hoarsely.
Henry dragged a hand down his face, "Does Mother know?"
"She does."
A bitter laugh escaped Henry, "What kind of parents would do this?" His voice broke, "God help Helena. God help us all!"
The words struck King Alexander like blows. He did not defend himself.
Silence stretched between them.
Then Henry stepped forward, "Take me instead."
The king looked up sharply, "What?"
"Take me," Henry repeated, voice burning with resolve, "Offer me to Lucifer. I will endure whatever hell he has prepared, but Helena will not. She is innocent. Let her be the Crown Princess."
Tears spilled down King Alexander's face, "You cannot replace her," he said, "This pact was forged in Hell itself. It cannot be rewritten so easily."
A knock cut through the moment.
George entered, "Your Majesty, a man named Mason requests an audience."
The color drained from the king's face at the name.
Henry frowned, "Who is Mason?"
King Alexander straightened, his expression guarded, "Let him in."
George bowed and stepped aside, allowing Mason to enter, just as the weight of fate settled heavier upon the room.