3

I walked with purpose, the weight of my mission settling on my shoulders. Every step in the palace felt like an echo, each corridor a reminder of the power and secrets hidden within these walls. But none of it mattered if I couldn't stop what was coming. The Taru revolt would be the spark that ignited the kingdom's downfall, and my first task was to find a way to extinguish that spark before it could spread.

The further I moved through the halls, the more I noticed the tension in the air. The servants' whispers lingered in the corners of my mind. It wasn't just the slaves I had to worry about—there was unrest everywhere. Court politics, the competition between princes, the ever-watchful eyes of the emperor, and the silent schemes of the queen—all of it added layers of complexity to my already delicate position.

I reached the servant quarters, a small building tucked away near the back of the palace. The stone walls were colder here, the air thick with the scent of food and incense. It was a stark contrast to the lavishness of the royal chambers. The servants lived in a world apart, separated by an invisible barrier of power. I had always known this, but now, it felt more tangible than ever.

I knocked lightly on the door to the small kitchen where Kara often worked. She was a young maid, no more than 16, with a sharp mind that had earned her the reputation of being a confidante to the lower-ranked servants. Her quiet demeanor made her blend in, but there was something about her—she had connections, and in this game, connections were everything.

The door creaked open, and Kara's wide brown eyes met mine. She stiffened for a moment, then quickly lowered her gaze. Even though I was a prince, it was clear that the divide between us was still palpable.

"Your Highness," she said softly, stepping aside to allow me in.

I nodded, stepping into the cramped kitchen. The air was warm from the stoves, the smell of spices filling my nose. No one paid attention to me here. I was just another prince, and they had all learned to keep their heads down around the royal family.

"I need to speak with you, Kara," I said in a low voice, making sure no one was listening.

She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. "What can I do for you, Your Highness?"

I leaned in closer, my voice barely above a whisper. "I need to know about the slaves. What are their grievances? Their plans?"

Kara's eyes flickered with uncertainty. "I—I don't know what you mean, Your Highness," she stammered, but her voice lacked conviction.

I wasn't fooled. I could sense the hesitation in her words, the fear of being caught talking about the slaves, the rebellion, the rumors. It was clear that she knew more than she let on, but it was dangerous to speak of such things in the palace.

I took a step back, making sure to keep my tone casual, as if I was simply another prince discussing mundane matters. "I know the slaves are upset. I've seen the tension. But there's more to this than meets the eye. I need to know what's going to happen in the next few days. If they're going to revolt, I need to stop it before it gets out of hand. You can help me."

Her face was pale, her eyes darting to the door as if she feared someone might overhear. Finally, she spoke in a voice barely louder than a breath. "There's been talk, Your Highness. The slaves… they're planning something. They say it's time to rise up. Taru… He's been speaking to them, leading them. He's promised them freedom."

Taru. The name sent a ripple of anxiety through me. My half-brother was playing a dangerous game, one that could destroy everything. The anger he held towards the royal family—towards the emperor—was the fuel for this fire, and it had been brewing for years.

I swallowed my frustration, forcing myself to stay calm. "Taru is involved? How?"

Kara nodded, her expression tight with fear. "He's been speaking to them for weeks. Telling them the truth about how the royal family has treated them, how we've abused them. He's promised them power, revenge… freedom from the emperor's cruelty. Some of them believe him. They're ready to strike."

The weight of her words hit me hard. Taru had already convinced a third of the slaves—they were ready to revolt, to throw everything into chaos. If that happened, the entire kingdom would fall into disarray. The emperor's reign would end, the royal family would be destroyed, and the slaves would never be free—they would only replace one master with another.

I forced myself to focus, to think clearly. I couldn't just stop Taru—he had too much influence over the slaves, and any direct intervention would draw suspicion. I needed to find a way to sway the slaves, to convince them that the royal family wasn't the enemy, that a rebellion wouldn't bring them freedom, but destruction. I had to find a way to stop Taru without him knowing it was me who had done it.

"How many are involved?" I asked, my voice low and steady.

Kara hesitated again, glancing nervously at the door. "I don't know exactly, Your Highness. But they're gathering. Soon. If something isn't done…"

I nodded. "I understand. You did well, Kara. Go back to your work.

wave of urgency wash over me. Time was running out. The clock was ticking, and if I didn't act quickly, the kingdom's future would be sealed in blood. The revolt wasn't just a minor rebellion—it was the beginning of the end. The slaves were the kingdom's lifeblood, and if they rose up, they could bring the entire empire to its knees.

I couldn't let that happen. Not on my watch.

I walked back through the halls of the palace, my mind racing. The information Kara gave me was valuable, but I still had so much to figure out. Taru, my half-brother, had his own deep-seated hatred for the royal family. I knew his story—the unfair treatment by the emperor, the loss of his mother. It was easy to see how someone like him could be driven to madness, to believe that the only way to free himself was through bloodshed.

But I knew better. Violence would solve nothing. If the slaves revolted, it would only lead to more suffering. And that wasn't the freedom they needed. They didn't need revenge; they needed a way out of their suffering, a chance at a life beyond the chains they had worn for generations.

But how could I change their minds? I was the 13th prince, the youngest of them all, and while I had some influence in the palace, my position wasn't enough to sway the masses, especially the slaves. I had to work with what I had, and that meant being strategic, cunning, and careful.

I needed information. I needed leverage. I needed to get inside Taru's mind—understand what drove him and use that against him. The more I knew about his plans, the better my chances of stopping the revolt before it could start.

I paused as I reached the study, where I knew my father would be meeting with the ministers. My father, the emperor, was a man of great power—but also blind arrogance. He saw the slaves as tools, as expendable pawns in his game of empire-building. He never took their pain seriously, and that indifference had shaped Taru's anger. If I was going to stop this, I needed to find a way to make the emperor see the truth—to make him realize that this rebellion wasn't just about slaves seeking freedom; it was about a kingdom on the brink of collapse.

I needed to get to Taru, but I also needed to play the political game. I couldn't just waltz in and confront him—he would see it as a challenge, and that could make things worse. Instead, I needed to move silently, like a shadow, and carefully insert myself into the fold of his plans. I needed to find a way to speak to him without revealing my true intentions.

I turned toward the study door, taking a deep breath. I would need to be patient. I had to move with precision. I couldn't let anyone know what I knew, or the system would intervene, punishing me for breaking the rules. I had to solve this on my own, with no help from the system, no guidance—just my wits and my ability to manipulate the situation to my advantage.

The emperor's voice echoed through the room as I opened the door quietly, slipping inside unnoticed. I wasn't here for him. I was here for something else, something much more important. As I stepped further into the shadows, I felt the familiar weight of my responsibilities settle on me.

But there was no time for hesitation. Taru was out there, moving pieces on the chessboard, and if I didn't act quickly, the entire kingdom would fall into chaos. I needed to get close to him, understand his next moves—and if I was lucky, I'd be able to stop the revolt before it even started.

I had no choice but to play this game. A game of secrets, of alliances, and of silent battles fought in the dark corners of the palace. And I was going to win, or the kingdom would burn.

The next step was clear: Taru. I had to confront him. But not directly. I needed leverage. I needed information. And I needed a way to turn his hatred into something I could use.

I left the study and made my way to the gardens. The fresh air would help clear my mind, help me think through my next move. As I walked along the path, I saw a figure in the distance, someone who wasn't supposed to be there. Taru.

He was sitting on a stone bench, gazing out over the lush green landscape, his expression unreadable. This was my chance—my opportunity to approach him, to start gathering information. But how? How would I get close to him without revealing my hand?

I hesitated, then took a deep breath. There was no other choice. I walked forward, as casually as I could, hoping that he wouldn't recognize the shift in my demeanor. My voice was calm, almost teasing, when I finally spoke.

"Taru," I called, his name slipping off my tongue like a whisper in the wind. "I didn't expect to find you here. I thought you'd be busy plotting something more interesting than sitting alone."

He didn't turn to look at me, but I could feel his gaze on me, cold and calculating. "You're bold, Hota. Bold, but foolish. What are you doing here?"

I took another step closer, my tone light. "I could ask you the same thing. What's the plan, my dear half-brother? Are you trying to ruin everything?"

His eyes flicked to me, and for a moment, there was something like a flicker of recognition—but it wasn't warmth. It was the cold, calculating look of someone who saw me as just another obstacle, another pawn in the game.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, his voice a low growl. "But I know enough to see through your façade. You think you can stop me? You think you can stop what's already set in motion?"

"I don't want to stop you," I replied softly, stepping closer. "I just want to understand. I want to know why you're doing this. Why destroy everything when there could be a better way? Do you really believe violence is the answer?"

Taru's gaze hardened. "You wouldn't understand. You've always been sheltered in your ivory tower, protected by the emperor's walls. You don't know what it's like to suffer, to be forgotten, to be treated like nothing more than a tool."

I shook my head, taking one final step toward him. "Then let me help you. Let me show you another way. We can fix this together. We can change things without bloodshed."

For a long moment, there was silence between us. Then, to my surprise, he finally spoke, his voice quieter now. "I don't need your help. But maybe you can help yourself… before it's too late."

I looked at him, trying to read the underlying meaning in his words. There was something hidden, something he wasn't saying—something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Was this a trap?

But before I could respond, he stood, his eyes flickering with something darker. "Good luck, Hota. You'll need it." And with that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the garden.

My heart raced as I watched him go. I had to be careful. Taru was dangerous, and I couldn't afford to make a misstep. But one thing was clear: the stakes had never been higher. I had to stop this revolt—before it destroyed everything.