Silence hung in the aftermath of the assassination attempt, the weight of near-tragedy still pulsing in the golden-lit air.
But the mood shifted when King Aleric stood.
His voice rang with pride, echoing off the cathedral-high ceilings.
"My son, Daemon Dominick... today, you've proven yourself not just worthy of the name 'prince'—but of the kingdom's trust."
Gasps. Applause.
Daemon remained still, his hands calmly folded behind him.
The king gestured for him to step forward. "And so I ask... name your reward. Whatever it may be."
Daemon smiled.
But it wasn't his usual soft, sweet smile. It was deeper. Sharper. Like something forged beneath pressure.
"I only ask," Daemon said, "that you swear to agree with my request... before I make it."
The room tensed.
King Aleric blinked. "You don't want gold? Land? A noble title?"
"No," Daemon said. "Just a promise. From a father to a son."
There was a pause.
Then the king nodded. "Very well. I swear it. You have my word."
Before anyone could breathe, a voice cut through the tension.
"I object."
All eyes turned to the tall man stepping forward from the council side—Sir Jeremy Alfonso, the king's trusted strategist.
His long violet hair was tied back neatly, and his gaze burned with a calculating edge.
"Your Majesty, I must advise against this. We don't know what he might request. It could be dangerous, reckless—"
Daemon smiled coldly, remembering him.
Still the same. Arrogant. Smart. Always three steps ahead.
You hated me then, and nothing's changed.
"Sir Jeremy," Daemon said smoothly, "with all due respect... you're not the one I asked."
The king raised a hand, silencing his advisor.
"I trust Daemon."
Daemon bowed slightly. "Then I shall speak."
Gabriel leaned forward. His eyes glittered, full of hope. He expected the obvious.
"He's going to choose to serve me," Gabriel thought. "Be my knight."
But Daemon turned to the crowd.
"I wish to choose neither the title of knight... nor the baron of that village ."
A stunned pause.
"I wish to leave this damn kingdom entirely."
The words shattered the hall.
A lady dropped her wine glass. A noble coughed mid-sip. Even Bianca visibly flinched.
"Daemon!" she snapped, forcing a smile. "Your Highness, forgive his words. He speaks recklessly—I will discipline him—"
"Save your breath," Daemon said flatly.
His mask cracked.
No more soft smiles. No more humble eyes.
"You all hate me. You whisper behind my back. You pray I'll die quietly, and leave your precious 'hope' to shine uninterrupted."
He turned to the king.
"I've brought you no dishonor. I've served this kingdom in silence. I just wish... to exist elsewhere."
Bianca seethed. Gabriel looked stunned.
Sir Jeremy's eyes narrowed.
The hall, thick with tension, waited for the king's answer.
King Aleric sat silent, his fingers laced beneath his chin, staring into his second son's crimson eyes. Daemon didn't look away. Not once. That stare held no fear, only quiet resolve.
The king finally broke the silence.
"Daemon," he said, voice deep, weary. "Why leave? Why not remain here and serve as a soldier under your brother? Gabriel could guide you. You'd be safe here, in your home, rather than throwing yourself to the wolves outside. The world beyond this kingdom holds only monsters and men worse than them."
Daemon's reply came sharp and cold.
"Monsters?"
"Your Majesty, the real monsters are right here."
His words struck the court like cold iron.
"They hate me already. Better I leave than waste everyone's time pretending."
The nobles whispered behind their hands, and for once—none of them disagreed.
Bianca tilted her head slightly, her false motherly smile tightening at the corners. "Your Majesty," she cooed, "the child made his choice. You did promise, after all."
But Gabriel stood, fist clenched at his side.
"I don't accept this," Gabriel said sharply, stepping toward Daemon. "You're only saying this because you feel unwanted. I won't allow it, brother."
Daemon looked at him calmly, a slight smile on his lips that masked the ocean of contempt beneath.
"It's alright, Gabriel," he replied softly. "You'll be fine without me."
That single sentence silenced Gabriel.
The king sat back, glancing at his queen, at Gabriel, at the watchful faces of the court. And finally—he nodded.
"Very well," Aleric said, exhaling slowly. "If that is your wish."
But before the moment could settle, the king asked, "Is that all you want? One wish. One reward. Surely there's something else, Daemon."
Daemon's smile deepened.
This was the real prize.
"There is one more thing, Your Majesty."
The room leaned in.
"Before I leave this kingdom, I wish for seclusion. My Astral Core has been... unstable after the recent training. I believe the royal vault would offer the perfect place to stabilize it."
The king's eyes flickered.
That word—the vault. A place neither prince had ever been permitted to enter. A place locked for generations.
How does he know of it?
But a promise was a promise.
"Granted," Aleric said at last, though the words tasted like iron in his mouth.
Gabriel's face darkened. He didn't hide his displeasure. Watching Daemon slip through his fingers, away from his control, unsettled him more than he expected.
The king waved a hand, summoning two guards.
"Escort the prince to the vault."
Daemon bowed deeply, hiding his grin.
Another piece moved. Another door opened.
As the grand hall erupted once more in cheers for Gabriel's coronation, Daemon walked out, his footsteps steady, controlled. Behind him, the celebration swelled, but the air around Gabriel remained cold and tight.
The game wasn't over.
It was just beginning.