Whispers of the Village

The night air was cool against my skin as I slipped out of the palace gates, the hood of my cloak pulled low to obscure my face. Every step I took away from the marble halls felt like shedding a chain. The guards on duty were predictable in their patrols, and the secret paths I had memorized years ago served me well. Tonight, I wasn't Prince Kaizen Valor. I was just a boy seeking a glimpse of the world beyond the palace walls.

The village market was alive with activity, even under the silver light of the moon. Lanterns cast warm, golden hues over cobblestone streets, and the smells of roasted meats and spiced pastries filled the air. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices rising above the chatter of the crowd. Children darted between the stalls, laughing and chasing one another, their joy a stark contrast to the rigid decorum of the palace.

For a moment, I stood frozen, taking it all in. This was what I longed for—freedom. No titles, no expectations, just life in its raw, unfiltered form.

I wandered through the market, careful to keep my head down but unable to resist lingering at certain stalls. A weaver displayed vibrant fabrics, their patterns far more intricate than the ones favored by court fashion. A baker's stand boasted golden loaves of bread, their crusts crisp and inviting. At one corner, a street performer juggled flaming torches, his movements precise and fluid, eliciting cheers from a growing audience.

The hum of conversation around me was intoxicating—people talked about their lives, their families, their struggles. No one whispered about court politics or the expectations of noble bloodlines. They spoke of real things. A mother haggled for a better price on apples, a fisherman laughed as he boasted about his latest catch, and a group of young men joked about tomorrow's work in the fields.

I felt a pang of envy. They had no crowns to bear, no legacies to uphold—only their own choices, their own struggles.

"You new here?" a voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned to find a boy about my age leaning casually against a nearby post. His arms were muscular, likely from working with his hands, and soot smudged his cheek. His brown hair was messy, and his dark eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"I haven't seen you around before," he continued, his tone friendly but cautious. "What brings a noble-looking kid like you to a place like this?"

I froze, but then quickly adjusted my tone and posture, trying to sound convincing. "Just passing through. Thought I'd see what the village had to offer."

The boy smirked, folding his arms. "Passing through, huh? Well, welcome to the market. I'm Owen. Blacksmith's apprentice. What's your name?"

"Kai," I said, the alias slipping easily from my lips. "Nice to meet you, Owen."

Owen studied me, a knowing glint in his eye. "Well, Kai, let me guess. You got tired of sitting in some fancy manor, being served by maids and eating food that's too pretty to eat? Decided to see how the other half lives?"

His teasing tone stung more than I expected, but I forced a chuckle. "Something like that."

Owen waved me over to a small forge set up near the edge of the market. "Here, let me show you something real. This is where the real work happens—sweat, heat, and muscle. Not like those royal smiths who barely have to lift a hammer."

I followed him, intrigued despite myself. The forge glowed warmly, embers crackling as Owen grabbed a piece of iron from the fire. He placed it on the anvil and began to shape it with confident, measured strikes of his hammer. The rhythmic clang rang out, drawing a few curious onlookers.

"This," Owen said between strikes, "is honest work. No politics, no titles. Just you and the metal. It'll tell you when you're doing it right."

I nodded, watching the iron slowly take shape. "It must be satisfying," I said. "Creating something with your own hands."

Owen glanced at me, his expression softening. "It is. But it's not all fun and games. My master says the taxes keep getting worse. Every month, more of what we earn goes straight to the crown. Not sure how much longer we can keep up."

His words hit me like a blow. I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated. What could I say? That I was part of the family imposing those taxes? That I didn't agree with them but had no power to change things?

Before I could find the words, Owen continued. "Don't get me wrong. Queen Anastasia—now she's different. People respect her. She's done more for the villages than any ruler in decades. But the rest of the court?" He shook his head. "They don't care about people like us."

I felt a pang of guilt, but I kept my expression neutral. "That's not fair. Maybe some of them care more than you think."

Owen gave me a skeptical look but didn't press the issue. Instead, he handed me the hammer. "Here. Give it a try, noble boy. See if you've got what it takes."

I hesitated but took the hammer, feeling its weight in my hand. Owen positioned a piece of scrap metal on the anvil and stepped back, watching as I awkwardly brought the hammer down. The strike was weak, barely leaving an impression.

"Not bad for a first try," Owen said with a grin. "But you've got a lot to learn."

We worked together for a while, Owen guiding me with patience and good humor. For the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of camaraderie—a connection to someone outside the palace walls. But the moment was short-lived.

As the market began to wind down, I overheard a hushed conversation nearby. Two men both wearing black overcoats stood close together, their voices low but urgent.

"When is it gonna happen?"

"His Imperial Majesty says soon"

His Imperial Majesty?? Are they talking about the Emperor???

But why?

"We need to get with the others, they have a better understanding of what we are going to do" 

"yes lets go"

Something is definitely off there.. I should tell brother Connor.

...a"

Kai!"

Owen suddenly snapped me out of my thoughts. 

I turned back to Owen, my heart pounding in my chest. The conversation I'd just overheard echoed in my mind. His Imperial Majesty… the Emperor? That could only mean Astravia. But why? What were they planning?

"You all right, Kai?" Owen asked, furrowing his brow.

I forced a shaky breath, gripping the hammer in my hand a little too tightly. "Yeah. Just… tired, I guess." I gave him a quick, forced smile. "Guess I'm not cut out for the forge after all."

Owen smirked, wiping his hands on a rag. "You ain't the first who thinks they can swing a hammer. But you did better than most. Maybe next time, you'll actually hit something."

I chuckled, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I needed to find Connor.

"Listen, I should get going," I said, stepping back. "Thanks for letting me try."

Owen gave me a knowing look, but he just shrugged. "Anytime, Kai. Try not to get lost on your way back to your fancy life."

I gave him a half-smile before disappearing into the winding streets. My steps quickened, my cloak drawn tight around me as I slipped through the market. My mind raced with possibilities.

His Imperial Majesty says soon…

What were they planning?

Back at the Palace

I scaled the outer wall as I had many nights before, slipping through the servant's entrance and navigating the dim hallways with careful, practiced steps. My heart was still hammering, not just from the climb, but from the weight of what I had heard.

I needed to talk to Connor. Now.

I found him in his quarters, seated near the window, his usual composed demeanor in place. He turned as I entered, raising an eyebrow. "You're out late," he remarked, setting aside a leather-bound journal.

I hesitated, trying to steady my breath, but the words rushed out before I could fully compose myself. "Connor, I heard something—something important."

He frowned slightly, sitting up straighter. "Go on."

I took a step closer, lowering my voice. "At the market… I overheard two men talking about His Imperial Majesty. They said something is happening soon."

Connor's expression darkened, the easy warmth in his eyes turning sharp and calculating. "The Emperor?"

I nodded. "And they were talking about others—people who already knew what was going on."

Connor didn't speak right away. He stood, his movements slow and deliberate as he walked to the window, his fingers drumming against the sill.

"Kaizen…" he began, his voice calm but firm. "Are you sure you heard correctly?"

I stiffened, something in his tone putting me on edge. "Yes. Why? What does it mean?"

Connor exhaled, rubbing his temple. "It means Valeria may be in more danger than I thought."

I frowned. "You thought?"

Connor hesitated, his usual confidence flickering—just for a moment.

And then something inside me snapped.

"You knew something, didn't you?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "You've been to Astravia. You've seen what they're capable of. What aren't you telling me?"

Connor turned to me, and for the first time, I saw the faintest hint of hesitation in his gaze. It was gone in an instant, masked by his usual cool composure, but I had seen it.

He knew something.

Something he wasn't telling me.

His voice was careful when he finally spoke. "Kaizen, there are things happening in this world that are bigger than both of us. I don't know the full picture yet. But I know that if the Emperor is involved, it's not something we can ignore."

I studied his face, searching for cracks in his expression. He was holding back—maybe not outright lying, but definitely choosing his words.

I swallowed my frustration, forcing myself to regain control. Losing my temper wouldn't get me answers. I needed to be patient.

So I exhaled slowly, mirroring his careful tone. "Then what do we do?"

Connor regarded me for a long moment before answering. "There is no We, let me, the heir handle this and you just get read for your birthday. Trust your brother Kaizen" He finished off with a smile.

It wasn't the answer I wanted. But it was the only one I was going to get—for now.

I nodded, feigning acceptance.

But deep inside, I knew one thing for certain.

Connor knows something... something that could be big.