Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The crown prince, Rughald, stood before the mirror, his dark golden eye staring at his reflection. His jaw clenched, and his fingers twitched at his side.

Tonight would mark his second celebration as heir to the throne. He was dressed in the traditional attire—a long red and black garment with golden dragon designs. His long hair was neatly brushed back, swaying as the wind blew through the room.

The door creaked open, and his mother, the second Queen of Khazanar, Ravar, walked inside, her long gown flowing behind her.

"Mother," he called without taking his gaze from the mirror.

"In a short while, we will honor your claim again," she said, folding her hands. "It will be more than the first. Every single Lord in Khazanar will swear their loyalty to you as their King-to-be."

Rughald scoffed, pushing a few strands of hair from his face. "And what about Amasir?"

"Amasir…"

"She walks around freely while we drink and celebrate like fools," he murmured.

Ravar's jaw clenched. "Rughald."

He turned around in anger, his face deep with a frown. "Do you not see it, Mother? The people whisper…"

Ravar took a step closer.

"They expect me to end this war. To kill her myself."

"The war ended the moment Gamaal died," Ravar said. "There is nothing to worry about anymore."

"The war isn't over until Amasir is dead," he said.

Ravar exhaled sharply. "The soldiers are already looking for her. She'll be found soon."

"Not soon enough." Rughald shook his head. "The people are impatient. The longer she stays alive, the more restless they become."

"Once Amasir is found, you will kill her yourself."

"And what if she's never found?" he asked. "You know she was supposed to be the next ruler. Father declared her as the next Queen of Khazanar. If she isn't dead before my ascension then I can't be crowned King."

"You should stay silent and listen to the Elders. The soldiers are already working on finding Amasir."

Rughald clenched his hand into a fist. "I am not a child."

"No?" She tilted her head with a frown on her face. "Then act like a man who understands how these things work."

Rughald strode past her, heading toward the long table near the fireplace where his sword rested.

"Enough waiting. I will hunt Amasir myself," he said, and before he could reach for the sword, a sharp pain exploded through his body. His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. He gritted his teeth, a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead.

Ravar stood unmoved, watching her son with her hand stretched toward him.

Her expression remained calm. "You are forgetting one thing, Rughald. Your place in this palace is to sit and listen while the Elders and I do the work of a King because you are not considered one."

Rughald gritted his teeth, straining against the power forcing him down, but his mother's magic kept him in place. He had almost forgotten that she was a powerful witch hiding in the guise of a human. He looked up at her, anger burning in his eyes. He despised his mother. He cursed the day he was born from her womb.

"If you desire the throne so bad, kill me and claim it," he said.

"No." Ravar shook her head. "If you are dead, the people would never accept me as Queen. I am no god, no dragon rider. I have no royal blood in me. If not you, they will turn to Amasir. And I will not allow it."

She walked toward the door, and before she reached for the handle, she turned her head to him.

"You will remain in this room until I say otherwise."

With that, she opened the door, and as soon as she left the room, the power she held over him vanished, and he collapsed to the floor.

As Ravar walked around her garden, she could hear the birds singing and the sound of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze.

She had sent her maids to tend the crops, and now the fruits had matured with ripened colour.

Footsteps sounded against the stone path and she turned.

Lord Atarr walked closer. He was simply dressed in winter boots and a long black garment. His short silver hair was neatly brushed. His eyes were the color of gold.

"You have some nerve coming to my garden, Lord Atarr," she said, frowning deeply. Lord Atarr was a god who refused to swear his loyalty to her son. He supported Amasir and had since fled the capital—only for her to see him this afternoon in her private garden.

"I was merely admiring your garden," he said. "Though I must admit, I came for something far more interesting."

"Oh?"

"I know the truth about the former King, Hamald," he told her.

"Do you?" Ravar tilted her head. "Is that why you came here? To tell me riddles? The older gods know well enough how I saw him."

The "older gods" referred to the first gods. Though they had long since passed away, many of the existing gods still looked up to them and served them.

"You saw him as the King and father of your child, or did you see him as the man you loved?"

"Both." She did not flinch at his words.

"And yet, you gave all that love to your cousin, Agarr."

"Why not? Agarr and I have been more than cousins for many years. When he is with me, I felt more love than I ever did in Hamald's bed."

"You traitor," Atarr spat. "That son of yours is no blood of the King. His eyes may resemble a god's, but he is no true god. He has no royal blood in him."

Ravar did not look away. "You value the life of your family, don't you"

"Are you threatening me?"

"There is no threat in my words, Lord Atarr. Stay in your lane, and no blood will be spilled."

"Poison as clear as water. Tasteless… Scentless… Strong enough to kill a god. A poison that is always sold at the black market," he said. "The week before Hamald took his last breath, I overheard you giving instructions to your maid. Something about a visit to the black market near the border of Khazanar."

Ravar smiled. "Yes. I poisoned the King."

"You know what must happen," Atarr said, stepping backward.

"What will you do?" she asked in a mocking voice. "Will you raise your sword in his honor?"

Atarr gritted his teeth. "You had no right."

"No right to what?" Ravar let out a dry chuckle. "He denied my son the throne and named Amasir his successor. Khazanar needs strength— a male ruler. And I did what I had to do."

It took everything in Atarr not to strike Ravar with his Aether.

"Your son is completely useless. There is no single power in him. Do the people know about this?"

"Hamald is long dead. Be kind to me, Atarr, and I swear before the old gods, you shall never regret it," Ravar said.

"Did you also use these words on the Elders and Lords?"

She closed the distance between them, and before Atarr knew it, she slapped him hard across the cheek.

Atarr's eyes shone gold, and the ground beneath him began to vibrate. He quickly took a step backward, knowing that if he unleashed his full power here, he would kill her—and other gods would hunt him down. He did not want that.

"When your son would ascend the throne, I will reveal the truth to the people—that he is not Hamald's true son and that you killed him. I expect you to be gone from Khazanar by then. If I were you, I would leave right away. Because I promise you, no matter where you run, the people will hunt you and your son."

Atarr cast a look at her before taking a step backward. He raised his hand, and Aether rushed out. Commanding his Aether with words, he disappeared from sight.