Chapter 42: The Weight of a Crown

The King's Summons

King Alden Veylan sat on his gilded throne, his expression unreadable as he listened to the report before him. The air in the royal court was thick with the scent of burning incense, meant to calm the mind, but tonight it only fueled his unease.

Kneeling before him was Lord Commander Roderic, his crimson cloak still dusted with travel. His knights had returned from their expedition to the ruins beyond the eastern wastes, and what they had found was troubling.

"They were there," Roderic confirmed. "Aria and her group. We arrived too late to intercept them, but the ruins had been disturbed. They took something."

The king's fingers tightened around the armrest of his throne. He had heard whispers of this woman—Aria. A wanderer, a mercenary, a mage of unknown origin. There were many rumors about her, but the most concerning was the claim that she wielded a power not seen in generations.

A power that should not exist.

He turned his gaze toward the far side of the hall, where the High Inquisitor stood in silence. The man had come to him weeks ago, his voice smooth, his words dangerous. He had spoken of corruption spreading unseen, of forces that sought to unravel the balance of the world.

Alden exhaled, his mind weighed down by duty. If what the Inquisitor claimed was true, he could not afford inaction.

"Summon the Saintess," he commanded. "She is to meet with Aria and her group."

Roderic hesitated. "Your Majesty… if she is truly dangerous—"

"She will be tested," Alden interrupted. "If she is innocent, the Saintess will know. If she is not…"

He left the words unspoken. Roderic bowed his head and departed, leaving the king alone with his thoughts.

The whispers in his mind stirred once more. This is the only way, Alden.

The Saintess is Called

The summons was sent.

Saintess Celestine Valeria arrived at the palace the next morning. Clad in flowing white robes embroidered with gold, she carried herself with the grace of a divine figure, her very presence filling the room with quiet serenity.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" she asked, her voice calm yet firm.

Alden gestured for her to walk with him, leading her through the grand corridors of the palace.

"There is a woman," he said. "A wanderer named Aria. She moves in secrecy, her origins unknown. Some say she possesses dark magic. Others claim she is marked by something… unnatural."

Celestine's expression did not change. "And you wish for me to find the truth?"

"Yes," Alden confirmed. "If there is corruption in her, you will see it. If she is a danger to the realm, she must be dealt with."

Celestine lowered her gaze in thought before nodding. "I will do as you ask, Your Majesty."

The king watched her carefully. This was the first step.

III. A False Accusation

Days passed.

Then, word arrived. The Saintess had met with Aria and her group, and while she had found no immediate proof of demonic corruption, she had sensed something unnatural within the woman. Something veiled, something powerful.

It was all the confirmation Alden needed.

A proclamation was made in the capital's grand square:

"Aria, the so-called wanderer, is accused of practicing forbidden magic and consorting with demonic forces. By royal decree, she is to be captured and brought before the court of judgment."

The Saintess and her elite paladins were dispatched to apprehend her.

But Alden did not stay to see the reactions of the people. His mind was occupied with matters far greater than one woman.

The King's Secret Council

That night, under the cover of darkness, King Alden left the palace alone.

His personal guard did not accompany him. Instead, he followed a hooded figure down a hidden passage, descending into the ancient tunnels beneath the city. The air was damp, thick with the scent of earth and old magic.

He entered a chamber illuminated by cold blue flames. Hooded figures stood in a circle, their robes embroidered with sigils of forgotten power. Their whispers echoed like distant chants, ancient and unknowable.

Alden stepped forward.

"You have done well," one of the figures intoned.

He bowed his head. "Aria is being hunted. Soon, she will be eliminated."

The whispers murmured approval.

"She is but one obstacle," another voice said. "The world is changing, and the throne must change with it."

Alden clenched his fists. He had made his choice long ago.

There was no turning back.

A Dangerous Development

The quiet of the royal chambers was broken by the hurried footsteps of a messenger. The doors to Alden's study burst open, and the man stumbled in, breathless.

"My lord—" he gasped, dropping to one knee. "The Saintess—she—"

Alden's eyes narrowed. "Speak."

The messenger swallowed hard. "The Saintess has been captured."

A heavy silence filled the room.

Alden rose slowly, his movements deliberate. "By whom?"

The messenger hesitated before answering. "Aria."

The tension in the chamber became suffocating.

Alden turned to Roderic, who stood rigid beside him. "Dispatch the knights," he said coldly. "Send word to every outpost. I want every city, every road, every shadow watched. Aria has gone too far."

Roderic bowed and left swiftly.

Alden stood motionless for a long moment, then turned back toward the window, looking over the city.

The whispers in his mind returned, this time darker, heavier.

She is beyond saving now.

The hunt had begun.

To Be Continued…