A Kingdom in Chaos -2

A murmur spread through the council. Some shifted uncomfortably, while others remained impassive. Adrian clenched his jaw.

"The empire does not need a butcher," he said.

"No," Kassius conceded. "It needs a victor."

The tension in the room thickened. Adrian could see the calculations, the silent weighing of power in their faces. This was not just a discussion. It was a test.

And he would not fail.

 Adrian's fingers curled into fists beneath the table, his nails pressing into his palm. The council chamber, once his father's stronghold, now felt like a battlefield of words and silent judgments. He was no fool—he could see the uncertainty in their eyes, the way some of the lords cast fleeting glances toward Kassius. This was not just about inheritance. It was about power, about who they believed could hold the empire together in the face of turmoil.

"You speak of victories," Adrian said, his voice calm but edged with warning. "But war is not just about winning battles. It is about ruling once the war is done. It is about keeping the empire from tearing itself apart."

Kassius tilted his head slightly, a glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "And what will you do, brother? Rule with kindness? Mercy? Words will not keep the wolves at bay." He turned, addressing the council gathered. "You all know what is coming. The kingdoms to the east stir at the news of our father's death. The North has never sworn true loyalty, and the desert lords will soon demand their price for peace. The empire is not stable. It is bleeding. And a bleeding beast draws predators."

"You would set the empire ablaze before the wounds have even begun to heal?" Adrian challenged. "War may be inevitable, but reckless violence will only hasten our downfall."

"Reckless?" Kassius laughed, shaking his head. "I have spent my life fighting for this empire. I have led armies, crushed rebellions, and bled in battles while you sat in the safety of these halls. If war comes, it will be because you hesitated, not because I struck first."

The tension in the chamber was suffocating. Adrian could see the calculations behind every gaze, the silent shifts in allegiance. Some lords had already decided where their loyalties lay, while others wavered, waiting for a sign, a moment of weakness or strength.

Lord Varric cleared his throat, his keen eyes darting between the two brothers. "Perhaps this is not the time for division. The empire needs a ruler, yes, but it also needs unity. A war of succession will only weaken us further."

"Then let there be no war," Adrian said firmly. He straightened his shoulders, his voice carrying the weight of his birthright. "I am my father's heir. The throne is mine by right and by law. Anyone who challenges that" his gaze flickered to Kassius, "—is not just defying me. They are defying the empire itself."

For the first time, Kassius' smirk faltered. A flicker of something—contemplation, perhaps even respect—passed through his expression.

"Strong words, brother," he murmured. Then, after a long pause, he exhaled sharply and turned away. "Very well. Let us see if you are as strong as you claim to be."

Without another word, Kassius strode from the chamber, his crimson cloak billowing behind him. The doors slammed shut in his wake, leaving behind a silence heavier than steel.

Adrian let out a slow breath, but he knew this was far from over. The battle had not been fought with swords tonight, but it had been fought, nonetheless. And it was only the beginning.

As the heavy doors sealed behind Kassius, the chamber remained deathly silent. Adrian allowed himself a single measured breath before sweeping his gaze across the assembled councilors. Some refused to meet his eyes, others sat rigid, their thoughts veiled beneath careful expressions. These were men who had advised his father, men who had prospered under his rule—and now they were weighing whether Adrian was worth their allegiance.

He would not give them cause to doubt.

"This council will convene at dawn," he declared, his voice steady and unyielding. "We will assess the stability of the empire and the threats beyond our borders. Until then, I expect absolute discretion. The people must not see weakness, nor must our enemies."

A few lords exchanged wary glances, but Lord Varric merely inclined his head in acknowledgment. "A prudent course, Your Highness."

Adrian nodded curtly. He turned on his heel and strode toward the doors, Gareth falling into step beside him. The weight of unseen eyes pressed against his back, but he did not falter. To hesitate now was to invite vultures to circle.

The moment he stepped beyond the chamber, the tension coiled in his chest loosened—but only slightly. The corridors of the palace stretched ahead, lit only by the flickering glow of torches. Shadows danced along the marble floors, twisting and curling like whispered secrets.

"That could have gone worse," Gareth muttered under his breath.

Adrian shot him a sideways glance. "Could it?"

Gareth sighed. "Your half-brother is a dangerous man. He speaks like a conqueror, and men follow those who promise victory."

Adrian exhaled slowly. "I know. And that is why we must act swiftly."

They reached the main hall, where the grand banners of House Valos hung high above the imperial crest. Guards lined the pathways, their armor gleaming in the dim light, but Adrian barely noticed them. His mind was already moving ahead, calculating his next steps.

"You should get some rest, Your Highness," Gareth advised.

"Rest?" Adrian let out a short, humorless laugh. "There is no rest when the throne is at stake."

Gareth hesitated before nodding. "Then at least allow me to double the guards near your chambers. Kassius may have left, but his ambition remains."

Adrian's jaw tightened. His half-brother had not openly declared war, but his intentions were clear. He would not stand idly by and let Adrian take what he believed should be his. This was only the first of many battles to come.

"Do it," Adrian said. "And send words to our allies. I want to know who still stands with the true heir."

Gareth bowed and turned away, vanishing into the shadows with the efficiency of a man who had lived too long in the games of power.

Alone, Adrian stared at the banners of his house, the golden flame crest embroidered upon deep crimson silk. His father's empire was cracking, and if he did not act quickly, it would shatter beyond repair.