The grand doors of the throne room swung inward on silent hinges, golden sunlight pouring through stained-glass to paint the marble floor in molten colors. Caelum strode ahead with the forced heartiness of a man who thought everything was still his, Kale at his side matching the pace perfectly, Slyvara’s silk whispered like smoke, Rhea’s armor clinked softly with each predatory step.
Shia’s clone floated beside them in giddy excitement, fingers twisting in her skirts, while Aster kept one measured pace behind, golden eyes half-lidded, hands hidden in wide sleeves.
"How has your travel been?" Caelum asked, voice booming too loud for the vaulted chamber.
"Not too bad, not too bad," Kale answered with an easy smile, winter-blue eyes sweeping the hall, counting empty places at the dais where three royal seats should have been occupied. His brow creased in polite confusion.
"Though I notice the youngest prince, the little princess, and Her Majesty the Queen are absent. I was looking forward to, paying my respects to the full Solace line."
Caelum opened his mouth, but Kale raised one gloved hand, gentle, almost apologetic.
"Actually, before we get lost in formalities, allow me a small indulgence." His voice dropped to the velvet register that had toppled three thrones already.
At the mention of these words, Aster eyes narrowed a bit as he hung behind his father and Shia.
"I have a habit, perhaps superstitious, of asking new friends for a single promise when I step into their home.
Nothing too burdensome.
Just that today, whatever I suggest, whatever path seems wisest, you’ll all agree it... as it was your own idea from the start. A silly tradition, but it keeps ill luck from following me through doorways."
He looked at each of them in turn, with a smile filled with warmth....
Shia’s clone was first, still playing the fame driven fairy, she stepped forward with fluttering lashes and clasped hands. "Of course, Lord Kale! I’ll agree to anything, so long as you’ll let me stand at your side as your wife."
The words spilled out breathy and eager, exactly the performance the court expected from the fame-hungry princess.
A faint shimmer, invisible to everyone else, snapped into place around the clone’s throat like a black choker made of shadow.
[Mark - Shia Solace???]
Kale’s brow rose a bit seeing his status screen. This was the first time it showed like this.
’Hmm? Well, as long as she’s marked.’ The his thoughts were cut through by laughter.
Caelum laughed, too loud, too quick.
"Naturally! Anything the great Kale Voss desires today, I’ll claim as my own brilliant decision!"
Another shimmer, thicker, colder, locked around the king’s neck like an iron torque.
[Mark - Caelum Solace | +600 EL]
[Current EL- Mid Rank A (9,350 EL)]
’Weird...’ Kale thought before his gaze slid to Aster last, mild and expectant.
Aster inclined his head, voice smooth as oil. "Let the King’s will be my will, Lord Voss. You need not waste breath on a mere prince such as I, when the trunk has already spoken."
Kale’s smile widened a fraction, accepting the deflection for now.
The temperature in the throne room seemed to drop five degrees even though the sun still blazed through the windows.
"Excellent," Kale murmured.
He turned to Caelum, voice suddenly casual, friendly, the tone of one king speaking to another who had already surrendered.
"Then, as your idea, of course, why don’t you place the crown in my hands for safekeeping, along with the private ledgers, troop dispositions, and the location of every hidden vault? We wouldn’t want any... misunderstandings."
Caelum’s eyes glazed for the space of a heartbeat. When clarity returned it carried the glazed devotion of a man who had just remembered the best idea he’d ever had. He lifted the flame crown from his own head without hesitation and extended it toward Kale.
"Of course," he said brightly. "It was always my intention to entrust these to you."
Kale accepted the crown like it weighed nothing, fingers brushing the warm gold as if greeting an old friend.
"And the youngest prince?" he asked conversationally. "Ash, wasn’t it? And sweet little Nia? The Queen too, where are they?"
Caelum’s smile never wavered. "Ash betrayed the kingdom and fled with the ungrateful girl five days ago. Lyssandra vanished a few days after, she left some insulting note behind as well."
’Pathetic! A king not even able to keep his dogs in order...’ Kale thought as inside his chest something cold and vast flexed, but his face remained the perfect mask of sympathetic concern.
"How unfortunate. Rest assured, under my guidance Solace will never suffer such betrayal again."
Aster stood silent, golden eyes narrowed to slits, every word catalogued, every micro-expression stored. ’Agreement. That’s the key. Verbal consent, freely given, no matter how it’s dressed.’ He thought as his shadow twitched along the floor, stretching a little too far toward Kale’s boots before retreating.
High above, in a forgotten balcony overlooking the throne room, the real Shia watched through a crack in the curtains. Frost raced across her real skin in frantic spirals as the snowflake sigil burned white-hot. When she saw her father place the crown in Kale’s hands with that blissful, brainwashed smile, something inside her chest froze solid.
’What the hell...’ She couldn’t understand what happened. She was previously watching everything from the eyes of her clone, but the moment she agreed, she felt something encroaching on her. Not even wasting a moment she cut the connection before coming here to see what was going on.
’Rising from this rubble is no longer possible...’ She thought as she turned away without a sound, pulling her travelling cloak tight. The clone downstairs would play its role until nightfall. By the time Kale tried to claim his "bride," the only thing waiting in the bridal suite would be an empty bed and a mirror cracked in the shape of a snowflake.
Shia slipped out a side gate, boots silent on cobblestones already cooling under the setting sun.
The kingdom was lost. Her father was lost. Her freedom, for now, was the only crown worth wearing.
Behind her, the palace bells began to ring new colors (black and crimson instead of gold). Ahead of her, the horizon stretched wide and cold.
It was time to run.
Back inside the throne room, while Kale and his companions drifted through private documents and vaults, Aster had already melted into the corridors like smoke. His time in this dying kingdom was over. He had harvested what he came for: the key to stand against the only SSS-rank in history.
As he passed beneath the capital’s gates for the last time, Aster glanced toward the distant storm clouds that forever crowned Ebonreach.
"Oh, King..." he murmured, lips curving into a serpent’s smile. "Your date has come."
The wind carried his words away, and the shadows followed him home.