The Caelum estate gleamed with forced celebration. Silver banners lined the banquet hall, musicians played cheerful notes, and trays of roasted venison filled the air with rich aroma. To outsiders, it was a noble feast. To Zane, it was a noose.
Fifteen years old. The age of recognition. The age of awakening. For every other heir, it happened at thirteen. For him... nothing. His parents had hidden his failure, delaying this public rite in the hope that time would change fate. Tonight, there was no hiding.
Cousins watched with mocking curiosity. Distant lords leaned forward, eager for scandal. Even Eve’s encouraging smile couldn’t pierce the dread in his chest.
The crystal pulsed faintly on its pedestal. Zane swallowed, stepped forward, and pressed his palm against it.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Then came the whispers.
"Two years late, and still nothing?"
"A Caelum without affinity... disgraceful."
"Their bloodline must be thinning."
His throat burned. His father’s hand twitched as if to silence the crowd, but even Lord Caelum’s shadow could not smother the storm of murmurs.
Zane’s fists trembled. His vision blurred—not with tears, but with rage. He couldn’t breathe beneath the weight of their eyes.
Before anyone could speak, before his mother could offer empty comfort, Zane turned and ran. Through the banquet hall doors, past startled servants, down the long corridor lit by silver torches. He didn’t stop until the weight of the voices was gone.
When he reached his chamber, he slammed the door and pressed his back against it, chest heaving. The laughter and whispers still echoed in his skull.
Fifteen years old. And still... nothing.