The laughter in the yard still echoed in my ears long after I returned to my chambers.
No matter how calm I pretended, my chest burned with humiliation.
Calen had won today not with strength, but with whispers and spectacle.
And yet… Aster's voice lingered louder than the jeers.
"Do not falter."
Why? Why would a prince spare a single word for me?
I clenched my fists. If I couldn't even control this fragile body, I'd forever remain a pawn in his and Calen's games.
So, when midnight fell, I crept into the abandoned greenhouse on the western wing of the manor. Once, it had been filled with exotic herbs. Now it was overrun by vines and dust, a forgotten place perfect for my secret practice.
I sat cross-legged, forcing my breath into rhythm. The tiny flicker of starlight in my chest responded, dim but stubborn.
"Grow," I whispered.
A faint glow spilled into my palm. It was nothing compared to Calen's blazing fire, but it was mine.
Sweat drenched me within minutes, but I held on. For hours, until exhaustion dragged me under.
When I awoke, the first rays of dawn cut through broken glass. And someone was there.
Aster Caelum stood at the threshold, arms folded.
"You'll destroy your core if you force it like that."
My heart jumped into my throat. "Y–Your Highness"
His gaze silenced me. Cold, unreadable. Yet, in the shards of light, I thought I saw a flicker of… concern?
"You have resolve," he said finally. "But resolve without discipline is suicide."
He stepped closer, kneeling so our eyes were level. The faint scent of steel and frost clung to him, sharp and intoxicating.
"I don't save people twice, Erian." His words were soft, dangerous. "But if you insist on surviving… I might show you how."
The air between us crackled tension, warning, something unnamed. My lips parted, but no sound came.
And then,
The sound of hurried footsteps shattered the moment. A servant stumbled in, pale-faced.
"Y–Young Master! A message… Lord Calen has petitioned the Duke. He claims you attacked him yesterday and… tried to kill him."
My blood ran cold.
So this was his move.
Aster's eyes narrowed, sharp as blades.
"Your brother plays dirty," he murmured. "Be ready, Erian. Shadows are gathering."
And for the first time, I didn't just feel fear.
I felt the weight of war pressing closer.