Shadows Beneath the Crown

Chapter 3: Shadows Beneath the Crown

The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery light cascading over the vast expanse of Montclair Palace. Shadows stretched across the stone walls like silent sentinels, their stillness broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the midnight breeze. Prince Knoa stood at the entrance of the Imperial Library, his earlier unease from the balcony lingering like a persistent whisper in his mind.

Despite the lateness of the hour, he pushed open the heavy oak doors, the faint creak echoing through the empty hallways. The library, bathed in dim candlelight, was a familiar sanctuary for Knoa, yet tonight, it felt different. The warm scent of parchment and ink mingled with the faint chill in the air, and the usually comforting silence seemed to hum with an undercurrent of tension.

He moved with purpose, his pale fingers trailing lightly along the spines of ancient tomes as he made his way to his usual reading alcove. But as he turned the corner, his steps faltered. A shadow shifted across the far end of the room, swift and deliberate.

"Who's there?" Knoa's voice rang out, steady but laced with caution. His crimson eyes narrowed, scanning the dimly lit rows of bookshelves.

There was no answer, only the faint sound of footsteps retreating deeper into the library. Knoa's heart quickened, but his resolve held firm. Clutching the edge of his robe, he followed the sound, his own steps light and cautious. The faint glow of the moon filtering through the stained-glass windows provided just enough illumination to guide his way.

As he rounded a corner, he caught sight of a figure cloaked in darkness slipping through a narrow side door that he was certain led to a restricted section of the library. Knoa's curiosity burned brighter than his fear. Pushing the door open, he found himself in a smaller, more secluded room. The air here was colder, the smell of dust and time more pronounced.

On the floor, just beyond the threshold, lay a small object. Knoa bent down, his delicate fingers picking it up. It was a coin, its surface engraved with a symbol he did not recognize—an intricate pattern of interlocking circles surrounding what appeared to be a stylized eye. The metal felt oddly warm against his skin.

"What is this?" he whispered to himself, turning the coin over in his hand. The shadowy figure was gone, leaving behind only this cryptic token and a growing sense of unease.

Knoa's eyes darted around the room, but there was no sign of movement. Realizing he was alone, he slipped the coin into his pocket and retreated to his chambers, his mind racing with questions.

The next morning, the golden rays of dawn painted the palace in hues of amber and rose, casting long, elegant shadows across the marble floors. The quiet hum of the waking palace was broken only by the soft chirping of birds outside and the faint rustle of maids tending to their morning duties. Knoa sat at his writing desk, the mysterious coin placed carefully before him, its metallic sheen catching the early light. His pale, slender fingers traced the intricate engraving on its surface, the strange symbols carved into it stirring a quiet unease. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind, each fragment of memory vivid and unsettling.

But the coin wasn't the only thing haunting him. The mention of Princess Eveline in the royal vault had stirred something deeper—a longing for answers to questions he hadn't even known he harbored. The name hung in his thoughts like an unanswered riddle, its weight growing heavier with each passing moment. Why had he never heard her story before? Why had her existence been shrouded in silence? The answers seemed tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach. Unable to shake the weight of his curiosity, Knoa made a decision. He would seek out his father—the only one who could shed light on the shadows of the past.

The grand doors to the throne room loomed before him, their intricate carvings depicting Montclair's victories in battle, a testament to the kingdom's storied history. Knoa hesitated, his hand hovering just above the polished wood. The monumental weight of what he was about to ask gave him pause. He took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and pushed the doors open. They groaned softly, revealing the vast expanse of the throne room beyond.

Inside, King Severino stood by one of the stained-glass windows, his broad shoulders framed by the multicolored light streaming through the vibrant panes. His regal posture was as commanding as ever, the aura of authority he carried almost tangible. The sunlight caught in his snow-white hair, the same stark shade as Knoa's, and turned it into a shimmering crown. For a moment, Knoa felt small in his father's presence, a sensation he rarely experienced but could not deny.

"Father," Knoa began, his voice soft yet steady as he stepped closer. "May I speak with you?"

The king turned slowly, his deep red eyes meeting Knoa's with an intensity that made the young prince's heart quicken. "Of course, my son," Severino said, his tone measured. "What troubles you?"

Knoa hesitated for a brief moment, his fingers brushing against the coin in his pocket as though seeking reassurance from its presence. Finally, he spoke. "Yesterday, while visiting the royal vault, I learned of Princess Eveline… your sister. The keeper mentioned her disappearance, but he knew little else. And then there was this." He retrieved the coin and held it out, the small object seeming almost insignificant in the grandeur of the throne room. "I found it after seeing… something. Someone."

Severino's gaze dropped to the coin, his expression momentarily faltering. Knoa caught the flicker of emotion—a brief crack in his father's otherwise impenetrable facade. But just as quickly, the king's composure returned, his face hardening into an unreadable mask. "Where did you find this?" he asked, his tone even but tinged with urgency.

"In the restricted section of the library," Knoa replied, his voice quieter now. "A shadow led me there. I followed it, but when I arrived, the figure was gone, and this was left behind."

The king's jaw tightened, his eyes briefly drifting to the stained-glass window as though searching for answers in the shifting colors. The morning light cast intricate patterns across his face, making his expression even more difficult to decipher. "You should not concern yourself with shadows, my son. Nor with relics like this coin."

Knoa's brow furrowed, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "Father, is it connected to Eveline? Is this why no one speaks of her?"

Severino's silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost mournful. "Knoa, no. Eveline's story is one of loss and regret. It is not something I wish for you to burden yourself with, Knoa. Focus on your future… not the ghosts of our past."

Knoa's frustration simmered, his resolve hardening. "How can I focus on my future if parts of our history remain a mystery to me? I need to understand, Father. The shadows, the coin… they feel tied to something larger. If there's a threat, shouldn't I be aware of it?"

"Why was Eveline erased from our family's history?" Knoa pressed, his voice rising slightly as he took a step forward. "Who or what is behind these shadows? And why was this coin left for me to find? Am I in danger, Father? Is this kingdom in danger? What are you not telling me?"

"That's enough!" Severino's voice boomed, his composure finally breaking. The shout echoed through the throne room, reverberating off the marble walls. Knoa recoiled slightly, stunned by the uncharacteristic outburst.

A heavy silence followed. The king's chest rose and fell with the force of his suppressed emotions. He ran a hand down his face before looking back at his son, regret softening the sharp lines of his expression. "Forgive me, Knoa," he said, his voice quieter now, tinged with sincerity. "I did not mean to raise my voice. But understand this: everything I do, everything I say, is to ensure your safety. You are my son, my heir. That coin, those shadows… they are remnants of a time we have worked hard to leave behind. And you, my son, will not be dragged into their darkness."

"But what if they're coming for me?" Knoa countered, his voice trembling slightly as he stepped closer. "What if they see my coronation as a chance to strike?"

King Severino placed a hand on Knoa's shoulder, the gesture both reassuring and final. "Then I will ensure you are protected. I will think of something… something that will keep you safe. But you must trust me, Knoa. Do not chase shadows."

Knoa's lips pressed into a thin line, his curiosity unsatisfied but his father's resolve unyielding. The coin in his pocket seemed to burn against his skin, its presence a constant reminder of the questions left unanswered. Reluctantly, he nodded. "As you wish, Father."

Without another word, Severino turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. Knoa remained where he stood, the silence enveloping him like a shroud. His gaze fell to the marble floor, where the patterns of the stained-glass windows danced in the sunlight. The coin felt heavier than ever, its weight pulling at his thoughts, tethering him to a mystery he couldn't ignore.

"He's hiding something," Knoa murmured, his crimson eyes narrowing in thought. His father's outburst, the hurried dismissal of his questions, the reluctance to speak of Eveline—it all pointed to truths being deliberately withheld. He couldn't shake the feeling that his father believed him too young, too fragile, to handle the full weight of the past.

But Knoa was no longer a child. The shadows, the coin, the whispered threats lurking in the corners of his mind—they all felt tied to something larger, something that would not wait for him to come of age. His coronation was approaching, and with it, the responsibilities and dangers of rulership. If there was a threat, he needed to know. If the past held the key to protecting the future, he would uncover it.

"I'll find the truth," he vowed quietly, his voice firm with resolve. "Even if no one else will tell me."

Later that afternoon, Knoa wandered through the palace gardens, seeking solace among the vibrant blooms and the gentle murmur of fountains. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of jasmine and roses. He followed the cobblestone paths aimlessly, his thoughts a tangle of questions and doubts. The towering hedges and well-manicured flowers offered a brief reprieve from the weight of his concerns, but his mind refused to quiet.

As he neared the garden's edge, voices caught his attention. He paused, stepping lightly to avoid detection, and peered around a hedge. Two guards stood in hushed conversation, their tones serious.

"Another shipment went missing last night," one of them said, his brows furrowed. "That's the third this month. Supplies don't just vanish without reason."

The other guard nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "And the reports from the borders… more sightings of cloaked figures. Whoever they are, they're getting bolder. It's only a matter of time before they strike again."

Knoa's heart raced as he strained to catch every word. The guards' conversation hinted at a growing threat, one that seemed to tie into the unease he'd felt since last night. His mind reeled, connecting threads of shadows, the coin, and now these mysterious disappearances.

Before he could eavesdrop further, the guards fell silent, their gazes shifting as they noticed him. They straightened immediately, bowing deeply.

"Your Highness," one of them said, his tone respectful but wary. "We didn't see you there."

"Clearly," Knoa replied, his voice calm but inquisitive. "What were you discussing just now?"

The guards exchanged a glance, hesitation evident in their expressions. The taller of the two spoke first, choosing his words carefully. "Just routine patrol matters, Your Highness," he said quickly. "Nothing for you to worry about."

Knoa's crimson eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "Routine patrols do not involve talk of missing shipments and cloaked figures. If there is a threat to Montclair, I have every right to know."

The guards shifted uncomfortably, their hands fidgeting as they glanced at each other. "We… we meant no offense, Your Highness," the second guard stammered. "It's… it's not something we're at liberty to discuss in detail."

Knoa's gaze hardened. "Then ensure this matter is reported to my father immediately. I will follow up personally." His tone left no room for argument.

The guards bowed again, their relief palpable as Knoa turned and walked away, his mind now buzzing with even more questions. As he left, the coin in his pocket seemed to grow warmer, as if resonating with the danger that loomed.

Later, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the palace, Knoa found himself in the library. The rows of ancient tomes and scrolls provided a comforting sense of stability. He selected a heavy book on Montclair's history, its leather cover worn from use, and carried it to a secluded corner.

He opened the book with care, his fingers brushing over the faded ink. As he read, his thoughts kept circling back to the guards' words and his father's earlier dismissal. The pieces didn't fit together, and the gaps in the story gnawed at him. Why was no one willing to speak openly about the dangers lurking in Montclair? And what role did the coin and the shadows play in all of this?

A soft knock on the library's door pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced up to see Knight Nicholas standing in the doorway, his clean armor catching the fading light.

Nicholas was the son of a family friend to the royal family, a knight who had grown up alongside the prince. Though their families were closely tied, Nicholas had always maintained a respectful distance, never overstepping his place in the palace. He was a dedicated and honorable young man, with striking features—dark brown hair, sharp eyes, and a quiet intensity that often made him appear lost in thought. Known for his loyalty and devotion to the royal family, Nicholas was often called upon to keep an eye on the well-being of the prince, especially in times of unrest.

"Your Highness," Nicholas said, stepping inside with a slight bow. "I was told you were here. I wanted to check on you, see how you were doing."

Knoa offered a faint smile. "You're too kind, Nicholas. Please, come in." He gestured to the chair across from him.

Nicholas closed the door softly behind him and took a seat, his gaze lingering on Knoa with an intensity that the prince couldn't quite place. There was something about Nicholas's presence today—something that made Knoa's chest tighten slightly. It was as though he could feel the weight of his attention, as if Nicholas was searching for something in him that wasn't there before.

"You've been quite troubled today, Your Highness," Nicholas began, his voice low and steady. "Is it about the events this morning?"

Knoa nodded, closing the book in front of him. "I overheard guards talking about missing shipments and sightings of cloaked figures. It's clear there's a threat, but no one will tell me the full story. My father… he's hiding something. He refuses to acknowledge the shadows or the coin I found."

Nicholas's brow furrowed, but his voice remained calm. "Do you think it's connected to your coronation?"

Knoa noticed how Knight Nicholas didn't even bother to dig deeper into the mentioned shadows and coin, as if he had heard of them somewhere already or knew about them beforehand. 

"I do," Knoa said, his tone firm. "The timing is too suspicious. And the coin… it feels like a message. I can't shake the feeling that someone or something is trying to warn me."

There was a brief, almost imperceptible pause before Nicholas spoke again, his voice quieter now. "Perhaps we should investigate further. If your father won't provide answers, we must find them ourselves. Where should we start?"

Knoa considered this, his mind racing. "The restricted section of the library. That's where the shadow led me last night. There must be more there… something I missed."

Nicholas nodded, though his eyes were fixed intently on Knoa, and for a moment, Knoa felt a flicker of discomfort. It was as though Nicholas's attention was too focused, too keen—like he was trying to read Knoa's thoughts.

"I'll accompany you tomorrow," Nicholas said, his voice steady, though the glint in his eyes seemed to sharpen. "You're clearly exhausted today, Your Highness. It's important to get some rest, but I'll be here first thing to help you with the investigation."

Knoa let out a small sigh of relief. "I appreciate it, Nicholas. I think I'll spend the rest of the evening reading and studying here alone. Tomorrow we'll start fresh."

Nicholas gave a respectful nod, though something in his gaze lingered a little too long, as if he didn't want to leave just yet. "Of course, Your Highness. I'll see you tomorrow." His voice was soft, though the weight of his presence felt heavier than usual.

As Nicholas turned and walked toward the door, Knoa watched him, feeling the odd tension in the air that hadn't been there before. He shook his head, dismissing the thought, and focused back on his book.

Tomorrow would bring answers, but for now, Knoa needed the quiet of the library to sort through his own thoughts.

That evening, Knoa returned to his chambers, exhaustion weighing heavily on him. His body felt drained from the events of the day—the conversations with the guards, his own mounting unease—and the silent pressure of the coin that weighed heavily in his pocket. The coin from the previous night sat on his desk, its mysterious engraving catching the flickering light of the nearby candle. It seemed to glow faintly in the dimness of the room, beckoning him.

As Knoa reached for it, a faint sound outside his door drew his attention. It was subtle—the softest shuffle of footsteps, almost imperceptible against the quiet stillness of the palace. His senses immediately sharpened, a shiver creeping up his spine.

"Who's there?" he called out, his voice calm but carrying an edge of tension. His crimson eyes narrowed, scanning the dark hallway through the crack in the door.

Silence answered him. His pulse quickened, and an unsettling feeling settled over him. He hesitated, but curiosity pushed him forward. He opened the door cautiously, stepping into the dark corridor.

The flickering light of torches cast long, stretching shadows across the stone floor, but most of the corridor was blanketed in darkness. The faint light from the torches barely reached beyond their immediate vicinity, making the far ends of the hallway nearly pitch black. The air was cool, but strangely still, as though something unseen was waiting just out of sight. Yet, the corridor was empty. No sign of movement. Just the quiet hum of the palace at night, the distant sound of wind sweeping through the open windows.

As he stood there, trying to make sense of what he'd heard, another sound came—a soft shuffle again, this time closer. It was unmistakable. The prince's heart raced as his instincts flared. Someone was out there, lurking just beyond his reach.

Knoa stepped further into the hall, the flickering torches casting odd, dancing shadows on the walls. The darkness felt thicker, as though it was closing in around him. He walked past his door, moving cautiously down the corridor, the sounds growing louder with every step.

Suddenly, Knoa stumbled into a tall figure emerging from the shadows. The knight, clad in gleaming armor, seemed to materialize out of the darkness itself. The soft metallic sound of his footsteps was almost drowned by the heavy stillness of the hallway. They collided briefly, the suddenness of it causing both of them to pause, frozen for a heartbeat, as their eyes locked in the dim corridor.

Knoa's heart skipped a beat, a surge of surprise rushing through him. He instinctively stepped back, but the knight remained still, his posture unwavering. His gaze was steady, piercing even in the low light, and Knoa couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine as their eyes locked.

The prince, still processing the unexpected encounter, was the first to break the silence. His voice came out steady, though there was an edge of curiosity beneath the calm exterior.

"Who's there?" Knoa asked, his words slicing through the silence. His crimson eyes glinted in the dim torchlight, scanning the figure before him.

The knight's reaction was immediate. He straightened with military precision, his armor letting off a soft, almost musical sound as he shifted. With practiced ease, he lowered his head in a respectful bow, his movements smooth and dignified.

"Your Highness," the knight replied, his voice firm but gentle, carrying an undertone of respect that made the prince's pulse quicken slightly. He did not break eye contact, his gaze steady and unwavering, as if Knoa's presence commanded it.

Knoa furrowed his brows, his mind racing. The encounter felt odd, the knight's poise and the air of authority surrounding him impossible to ignore. Still, the prince wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation, so he hesitated before speaking again.

Before he could voice another question, the knight's expression shifted. The calm, disciplined gaze turned to one of surprise and, perhaps, concern. His brow furrowed slightly, and his tone softened as he spoke.

"Your Highness..." the knight said, his voice almost filled with concern, yet still maintaining its composed nature. "What are you doing out here at this hour? It's dangerous. You should not be alone in these corridors, especially without any guards."

The words hit Knoa more than he expected. His breath caught slightly. He had been so focused on the strange sounds and the coin in his pocket that he hadn't even considered the danger of being alone at this hour. He glanced down the darkened hall, the shadows looming like a blanket over the palace, and the full weight of his isolation hit him.

Knoa blinked, momentarily thrown by the knight's unexpected concern. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, trying to make sense of the strange events, that he hadn't noticed how risky this situation was. His pulse slowed, and he regained his composure.

He chose not to address the knight's concern immediately and instead pushed on with his own questions. "Are you the one I heard earlier?" Knoa asked, a flicker of unease in his voice as he remembered the strange footsteps that had led him to this encounter.

The knight immediately shook his head. "No, Your Highness," he said firmly. "I've only just arrived. It must have been someone else." His tone was calm, yet there was an edge to it as if to assure Knoa that he was, in fact, the knight's first concern at this hour.

Knoa stared at him for a moment, taking in his words, then ignored the knight's previous question about his safety. His curiosity had not yet been satisfied.

"If you're not the one I heard," Knoa began, his voice sharp with an underlying tension, "then who are you?"

The knight lowered his head in a respectful bow once more, his movements slow and deliberate. He remained motionless for a long moment, as if contemplating his response. The silence between them seemed to stretch, the only sound being the distant crackle of torches in the hallway.

The knight's posture was perfect as he raised his head, but this time, his eyes didn't waver from Knoa's. They held steady, unwavering—almost unnervingly so. The shadows cast across his face made it hard for Knoa to make out all of his features, but something in the intensity of his gaze stirred a strange feeling within the prince. There was something familiar about this knight, a sense of recognition that Knoa couldn't quite place.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to focus more clearly on the figure before him. The low light made it difficult, but the knight's features were sharp, defined. Something about the way he carried himself felt familiar—perhaps even from a past encounter, but Knoa couldn't quite figure it out.

He furrowed his brows deeper, his mind racing with unanswered questions. The nagging sensation of recognition lingered in the air between them, but Knoa couldn't place it.

A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and Knoa couldn't help but notice the intensity in his eyes. After what felt like an eternity, the knight spoke again. His voice was firm, yet respectful, and he seemed to take his time with his words, ensuring his respect was felt.

"Lord Commander Alas," the knight said finally, his voice calm and steady, though there was a slight undertone of pride in his words. "At your service, Your Highness."