The court followed the king through the marble corridors to the temple of the Sun. The air was cool and heavy with incense, thick enough to make the hair on Prime minister Darius arms stand on end. The High Priestess stood before the sacred flame, her silver hair catching the glow like strands of moonlight.
"My King," she said, bowing deeply. "Last night, the heavens showed me a vision unlike any before. I saw the moon of Persia darkened by a dragon's shadow. Its wings stretched over our land."
Cyrus frowned, his knuckles tightening on his staff.
"And what does this omen foretell?" Is it not something positive that the crown prince Vekas will be Great?
The priestess hesitated. "I cannot say, Majesty. Only that the dragon is not of your blood. It comes from beyond our mountains, and its hunger is endless."
Darius, standing quietly behind the king, spoke with a sharp, controlled voice.
"Perhaps it is a warning of a rival rising within, someone who would seize what belongs to the crown."
The priestess lowered her gaze. "I know only what I saw."
They left the shrine in uneasy silence. In the courtyard, Prince Vekas stood beside a marble pillar, his arm bound in fresh linen. His father paused.
"Already returned from your journey, my son? I thought you meant to inspect the southern borders."
Vekas offered a faint smile.
"I did, Father. But my horse stumbled, and I fell from it. The wound delays me."
"You must learn endurance," the king said, though his rebuke carried warmth rather than anger. "A ruler cannot fear pain." He moved on with his ministers, leaving the prince beneath the arches.
Darius lingered a moment, watching Vekas from the corner of his eye. The prince's movements were careful, guarded, too deliberate. Suspicion stirred, but Darius said nothing and followed the others.
Days passed. Messengers came and went, until at last one entered the council chamber bearing a scroll bound in black.
"The Emperor of Qin summons all kingdoms to Xianyang," he announced. "Any ruler who shelters the escaped slaves or the one called Matheus will face the Emperor's sword."
The king coughed, weak and breathless. Vekas stepped forward.
"Father, allow me to go in your stead. You are unwell, and Persia must be seen at the council showing strength."
General Arsam frowned.
"It is too great a risk, my prince. The Qin may deem it disrespectful."
Vekas straightened, his voice firm.
"Then let them look. If Persia does not stand among them, we will be called cowards before the world."
Darius inclined his head.
"Perhaps the prince is right. The king must remain a symbol of calm. The son may face the storm."
Cyrus studied his ministers, then his son.
"So be it. Go, my son. Speak with honor but remember: Qin smiles with the mouth and kills with the hand."
Xianyang awaited like a beast of smoke and iron. As the Persian envoys entered its gates, the sound of forge hammers echoed across the city. In the grand hall, nobles from every kingdom had already gathered beneath banners of crimson and gold.
Among them sat a young woman in a gown of pale blue, the Princess of Kettegat, heir to a northern isle. Her eyes, cool and bright, caught Vekas's for a heartbeat before he looked away.
The hall fell silent as the doors burst open. The Prime Minister of Qin strode forward, representing the Emperor. His armor gleamed like polished obsidian; his expression was as hard as the sword he carried. He raised it high, then drove it into the table before him, splitting the wood.
"This blade," he declared, voice echoing, "was forged for loyalty. It now stands as warning. Any nation that harbors the escaped slaves or the traitor Matheus will share their fate. Yet whoever captures him shall be rewarded beyond measure."
Servants entered bearing cages. Inside knelt the captured refugees from the rebellion, some of the free refugees who had been recaptured. Behind them stood armored riders, helmets fashioned like snarling beasts.
"The Emperor offers mercy," the minister's voice echoed.
"Those who can slay these soldiers shall earn freedom."
Gasps spread through the hall. The guards advanced, blades flashing, cutting down the prisoners one by one. The marble floor turned slick with blood. The cries of the dying rose like a hymn of despair.
Vekas rose abruptly.
"This is madness!"
Darius caught his arm.
"Sit, my prince. To speak now is to die."
But before the minister could issue another command, a woman's voice rang out, clear and furious.
"Enough!"
The hall froze.
The Princess of Kettegat stepped forward, eyes blazing.
"This is not justice," she said. "It is cruelty hiding behind a crown."
The Prime Minister of Qin turned on her.
"How dare you question Heaven's chosen command?"
"If your Emperor were truly chosen by Heaven," she replied, "he would not fear mercy and stoop so low."
His expression darkened.
"Guards seize her!"
Swords hissed free as the hall erupted into chaos.The guards seized Largatha the moment the minister barked the order, dragging her from the hall as she trembled with righteous fury. Iron doors slammed behind her, sealing her in a cold, silent cell. Here she waited, alone, for whatever judgment Qin would impose on a foreign princess who dared speak against their cruelty.
The Qin Prime Minister swept from the council chamber, a satisfied smirk on his lips. The visiting delegates withdrew to their assigned quarters, murmuring uneasily among themselves.
Prince Vekas of Persia could not rest.
He paced his chamber like a wolf in chains, guilt gnawing at him. Largatha sat imprisoned because he had remained silent. Her courage stirred something dangerous in his chest, a mix of respect and an unfamiliar feeling he dared not explore, not in enemy territory.
Rescue was impossible. Breaking into a Qin prison disguised as an assassin? Madness. Succeeding was unlikely. Dying was almost certain.
Yet one path remained: negotiation.
Vekas went straight to the residence of the Qin Prime Minister and requested an audience. When the minister appeared, flanked by guards, Vekas bowed deeply, then revealed a chest brimming with gold and silver ; one thousand pieces in total.
"A foreign woman," he said cautiously, "acted out of compassion for the innocent. Her offense is one of heart, not treason. Release her… and Persia will view this as a gesture of goodwill."
The minister's eyes gleamed at the sight of the chest.
"Very well," he said. "She is free."