The torches in the king's hall burned brighter than usual, yet the air was heavy with a worry that even fire could not push away. Above, flags showing the sign of the Black Sun—once a mark of good times—now hung low like dying flowers, their cloth edges worn from years of trouble.
Prince Kaelen stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up at the high seat where his father, King Aldros, sat slumped like a man twice his age. The king's once-strong shoulders bent under unseen heavy things, and the crown of dark gold seemed almost too heavy for his head.
"You called for me, Father?" Kaelen asked, his voice steady, though his fast heartbeat gave him away.
The king's gray eyes narrowed. "Word comes to me that you have been meeting with… dangerous people. Do not lie to me. The council watches everything."
Kaelen's breath caught. The thought of his secret meeting with the covered woman below the palace—the one who spoke of hard times coming—flashed in his mind. How much did the king know?
"I try only to understand the trouble beyond the palace walls," Kaelen answered carefully. "If I am to one day take your seat, I must know the world as it truly is, not as the council says it is."
The king's voice turned hard. "The world is wild. That is why crowns exist—to hold it steady." He leaned forward, his weak hand holding the armrest. "But a crown is not light, Kaelen. It is a weight that will break your back if your heart is not strong as iron."
For a long moment, the hall was quiet except for the sound of burning torches. Then, almost as if he was sorry for his own words, Aldros spoke softer. "Tell me, my son… do you truly feel ready to carry what will one day be yours?"
Kaelen opened his mouth, but no words came out.
From the dark near the stone posts, a shape moved—Lord Varros, the high council leader. His feel was as cold as a blade. "Perhaps, Your Majesty," Varros said smoothly, "the prince will show his worth sooner than we thought. There are whispers of people rising up in the east. If he wishes to know the world, perhaps you should let him taste it."
Kaelen's jaw got tight. He knew this was not a simple idea; it was a test, maybe even a trap.
The king shut his eyes for a moment, as if choosing whether to trust his son or keep him safe from what lay ahead. When he opened them, their sharpness came back.
"Very well," Aldros said at last. "You will ride east at first light. See what grows there. And remember, Kaelen—once a prince carries the weight of a crown, even in secret, it is a weight he cannot put down again."
Kaelen bowed low, though worry twisted in his stomach. He left the king's hall with careful steps, feeling Varros' sharp look following him like a hunter watching prey.
Outside, under the moon-washed night, Kaelen looked toward the far lands. Somewhere beyond, things moved—rebels, strange sights, maybe even fate itself.
And now he was being pushed into their path.