The news of my survival spread quickly.
Too quickly.
By the next morning, servants whispered in the corridors, their gazes darting toward me with thinly veiled disbelief. I was supposed to be dead. For them, the "useless young master" waking up was nothing short of a curse.
And curses… weren't welcomed in the Thalos household.
"Father summons you," the steward said stiffly, appearing at my chamber door.
My stomach knotted, but I nodded.
It was time to face the Duke.
The dining hall of the Thalos estate was vast, cold, and gilded in silver. Long tables stretched endlessly, filled with nobles who had gathered after last night's banquet. Laughter rang from my half-brothers, sharp like blades, while my stepmother, Lady Seraphine, sat in graceful disdain.
At the head of the table sat Duke Thalos himself—stern, imposing, eyes sharp as winter steel.
The moment I entered, the hall fell silent.
"Oh? The cripple lives," sneered my second brother, Calen, raising his goblet. "We were already planning the funeral."
Laughter rippled across the table.
I forced my expression into neutrality, though every nerve screamed to retaliate.
"Enough," the Duke's voice cut through the noise, cold and unyielding. "Let him speak."
All eyes turned toward me.
The old Erian would have stammered, trembling under their scorn. But I was not him.
I bowed slightly, then raised my gaze.
"I thank the heavens for sparing my life," I said calmly.
"And I thank His Highness, the Crown Prince, for intervening."
The hall shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Aster Caelum. Even the Duke's eyes flickered, though only for an instant.
Lady Seraphine leaned forward, her lips curling. "How curious. Why would His Highness trouble himself with you?"
Her words dripped with venom, and I realized the truth: they feared his involvement.
I smiled faintly. "Perhaps… I am not as worthless as everyone thought."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
How dare the useless young master speak with such arrogance?
Calen slammed his goblet down. "Watch your tongue, brat. You dare speak so boldly when you've contributed nothing to this family?"
"Enough," the Duke barked again, his gaze turning to me. "Erian. You survived where you should not have. Do not mistake chance for strength. You remain a stain on this house."
The words stung, but I kept my composure.
"If that is so," I replied softly, "then allow me the chance to prove otherwise."
The hall froze.
Never before had Erian challenged the Duke's decree.
The Duke's eyes narrowed, glinting with icy amusement. "Prove? And how do you intend to do that, boy?"
I took a breath, the faint pulse of the newborn star in my chest answering me.
"By awakening my Star Core."
Silence.
Then, uproar.
"Impossible!"
"He's failed every attempt for years!"
"A waste of resources!"
The voices clashed, but I stood firm.
The Duke raised a hand, silencing them.
His lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer.
"Very well. Prove yourself at the upcoming Constellation Trials. Fail, and you will be stripped of the Thalos name. Succeed… and you may yet earn a place at this table."
My blood ran cold, but I forced a nod.
The Constellation Trials an imperial ceremony where youths awakened their cores before the empire. A stage of glory… or humiliation.
I had just gambled my life.
As the nobles whispered in mockery, I glanced up only to find a figure watching from the shadows near the entrance.
Aster Caelum.
The Crown Prince.
He had been listening the entire time.
And when our eyes met, his lips curved just barely into something unreadable.
A chill ran down my spine.
Had I just stepped into his game?