A heavy silence settled over the Throne Room.
It lingered in the air, pressing down on everyone present.
Lady Elora stepped forward.
Her posture remained dignified—but beneath it, desperation trembled.
"Please…" she said softly. "We need a true warrior—one of royal blood—to lead us."
King Liam's expression hardened.
Slowly, he rose from his throne.
He began to pace.
Measured steps. Thoughtful. Controlled.
His hand rested against his chin as his mind worked through the weight of her words.
"Another tyrant rising…" he murmured.
His voice grew colder.
"Cruel and menacing… like Tyrant Cor."
He exhaled sharply.
"How I despise such men."
He stopped.
Turned.
His gaze locked onto Lady Elora and Nancy.
And when he spoke again—
It was not as a grieving man.
But as a King.
"You have my word," Liam declared.
"One of my sons will fight by your side."
Relief washed over Lady Elora.
A breath she didn't realize she had been holding finally escaped her.
Nancy bowed deeply, gratitude shining in her eyes.
"We are grateful, Your Majesty," Elora said. "We hope—someday—to return your kindness."
Liam shook his head gently.
"There is no debt between allies," he replied. "This is what kingdoms do for one another."
Elora nodded.
"We've taken too much of your time," she said. "We shall take our leave."
"No."
The single word stopped her.
"You cannot travel tonight," Liam continued. "It's far too dangerous."
His tone softened slightly.
"Stay here for the night. You may leave at dawn… but not a moment sooner."
Lady Elora bowed her head.
"As you wish, Your Majesty."
For the first time since her arrival—
Nancy's shoulders eased.
Safety.
Even if only for a moment.
Prince Abenator's Chamber – Night
The room was in chaos.
Fragments of shattered ornaments littered the floor.
Abenator paced back and forth, his breathing heavy, his rage barely contained.
With a sudden motion, he swept another object aside—sending it crashing against the wall.
From the doorway—
King Liam watched.
Silent.
Unyielding.
"Is this the behavior of a prince of the highest caliber?" he asked coldly.
Abenator froze.
But only for a moment.
Liam stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the destruction.
"Dad…" Abenator began, his voice unsteady. "H–how did—"
"It doesn't matter," Liam cut in sharply. "What matters… is you."
His eyes fell on something among the shattered remains.
A relic.
Unfamiliar.
Dark.
Abenator's expression shifted.
"M–me? How am I the problem?" he snapped.
Liam didn't answer.
He bent down and picked up the object, examining it closely.
And then—
His face darkened.
"By the gods…" he muttered. "Have you been practicing dark magic?"
Abenator's eyes flared with anger.
"Hand it over, Dad."
From the hallway, hurried footsteps approached.
Kabul.
He entered—and stopped.
"What's going on…?" he asked, his voice uncertain.
Liam turned toward him, disappointment heavy in his gaze.
"Care to ask your brother?" he said. "He's brought shame upon this kingdom."
He raised the relic.
Both brothers spoke at once.
"Please… no. Not now."
Too late.
Liam slammed the relic onto the floor.
It shattered.
Pieces scattering across the room like broken truth.
"I took an oath…" Liam said, his voice rising, "to protect this kingdom from danger."
Kabul stepped forward, frustration breaking through.
"And you think destroying this solves everything?" he challenged. "I think… you've gone too far this time."
Abenator dropped to his knees.
His hands trembled as he reached for the shattered pieces.
Something in him looked—
Broken.
"Gone too far?" Liam repeated.
His gaze sharpened.
"Have you known… all along?"
His voice grew colder.
"And kept it from me?"
Kabul hesitated.
Then slowly knelt beside Abenator, helping him gather the fragments.
"I'm sorry…" he said quietly. "I never meant for this to happen."
"Just…" Abenator muttered, his voice low and bitter. "Let me be."
Kabul stood.
He hesitated at the doorway.
Turned.
Looked back.
Guilt weighed heavily on his face.
Then—
He left.
Prince Kabul's Chamber – Night
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Kabul walked slowly to his bed, each step heavy with exhaustion.
He sat down.
Then leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
After a moment, he reached beneath his clothing and pulled out a necklace.
His mother's.
He stared at it.
Eyes glistening.
"Mom…" he whispered.
A long pause.
"Am I on the right path?"
His voice cracked.
"Am I… the cause of Abenator's misfortune?"
Silence answered him.
"Why must we despise each other… every single day?"
He clenched the necklace tightly against his chest.
As if it could hold him together.
As if it could give him answers.
Eventually—
Sleep took him.
But not peacefully.