A Kingdom of Knives

Xypheron strode through the palace halls, his steps measured but laced with the tension of a caged beast. The air here felt different—heavy, suffocating, riddled with unseen dangers. The battlefield had been brutal, but it had been honest. Here, within these marble corridors, deception was the deadliest weapon.

Vexaria walked beside him, silent but alert. She knew better than anyone that war did not end when the swords were sheathed. It simply changed form.

As they rounded a corner, a figure emerged from the shadows. One of the king's advisors—Lord Darion, a man known for his quiet influence and sharp tongue. His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone was enough to set Xypheron on edge.

"My prince," Darion greeted with a small bow, though the respect in his tone felt rehearsed. "Your decision in court today was… bold."

Xypheron didn't slow his stride. "Was it?"

"A marriage alliance would have secured the kingdom's stability."

Xypheron let out a low chuckle, dark and edged with warning. "If the kingdom's stability relies on my shackles, then perhaps it was never strong to begin with."

Darion smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "A ruler must sometimes sacrifice personal desires for the greater good."

Xypheron stopped abruptly, his piercing green eyes locking onto the advisor's. "I have sacrificed. I have bled for this kingdom, fought for it, nearly died for it. If the council believes I will now surrender my future to their whims, they are gravely mistaken."

A tense silence followed.

Darion studied him, then his gaze flicked briefly to Vexaria before returning to Xypheron. There was something speculative in his eyes, something calculating.

"The court watches you, my prince," Darion finally said. "Not all within these walls wish you well. I would tread carefully."

With that, the advisor dipped his head and stepped back into the shadows.

Xypheron clenched his fists, his mind racing. The battle had ended, but he was still surrounded by enemies. They didn't wear armor, didn't wield swords, but they were just as deadly.

Vexaria crossed her arms. "He's right about one thing."

Xypheron turned to her, his brow raised.

She tilted her head slightly, watching him. "You're surrounded by wolves. And they're waiting for you to stumble."

Xypheron smirked, though there was no humor in it. "Then let them wait."

He turned and continued down the hall, but deep inside, he knew—the real war had only just begun.