The wings of the palace were silent.
A silence so deep it seemed to absorb the very air itself.
Nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Only the king, seated upon his throne, unmoving, his gaze lost in the darkness of the hall.
He felt something.
Something deep, inevitable, advancing toward him like a shadow no one could stop.
A premonition…
An end.
The internal wars within his family were devouring him.
To some of his children, he had granted kingdoms; to others, titles; to others, a legacy.
And those same children had raised successors, armies, alliances.
Some had earned their lands through battle.
Others, through honor.
Others, simply by being favored by his hand.
But the family continued devouring itself.
Always hungry.
Always increasing its ambition.
Never in balance.
There was an old saying:
"Madness is born in the blood of men; wisdom, in that of women."
That was the problem of his lineage.
A tree with wise roots… and branches utterly poisoned.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps.
Silent.
Soft.
But determined.
—So… in the end, it was you —said the king, without moving his head.
—What else did you expect, father? —the voice replied, firm, without a trace of doubt—. Someone had to take power. And you are already a weak king.
The king slightly tilted his head.
—Why do you believe I am weak, my son?
—You have allowed discord to grow among the houses. You hand out lands and titles to keep everyone satisfied. You speak of balance… but such a thing does not exist —he stopped before him—. There is power, and those who have the courage to take it.
Or those who are afraid to do so.
The king saw his son's shadow rise over him.
And at last, he understood that his fate was sealed.
—And I —the son continued— am not afraid to take it.
The metal flashed for an instant.
The blow was precise.
Lethal.
As his life slipped through his fingers, the king took his final breath.
—Be careful, my son… —he whispered, barely audible—. What you do to me today… someone will do to you.
And the throne fell silent once more.
A silence even deeper.
Even darker.
No one would know until the following morning, when a servant entered to clean and discovered that they no longer had their monarch.