Shadows beneath the throne (Part 1)

The morning sky was veiled in a thick fog, as though the heavens themselves withheld judgment.

Kaelith stood on the edge of the eastern balcony, the city of Solvane sprawling below him like a mosaic of marble and mist. He wore a tunic of crimson silk, the royal insignia gleaming faintly on his chest. His black hair fluttered gently in the breeze, a single red crystal earring catching the morning light.

"Prince Kaelith," a soft voice called behind him. It was Elren, one of the palace scribes. "Your presence is requested in the Hall of Ministers. His Majesty awaits."

Kaelith didn't turn. "Another council I'm not allowed to speak in?"

Elren hesitated. "Only to observe, my prince."

Kaelith sighed and walked inside, the silence of his chambers swallowing him whole.

---

The Hall of Ministers was a chamber carved in pride and gold. Velvet banners draped the walls, embroidered with the twin suns of House Solmere. Ministers muttered in stiff voices, a sea of scrolls and parchments laid before them.

King Tharion Solmere sat on his elevated throne, cloaked in obsidian armor trimmed with gold. His crown sat heavy on his brow, a reminder that rule was a burden before it was a right.

Kaelith stood beside him, silent. His father hadn't acknowledged him since he'd entered.

Vaeron stood on the opposite side of the hall, clad in white and silver, a ceremonial blade sheathed at his hip. He looked every bit the crown prince he was destined to become—taller, sharper, carved from ambition.

As the ministers debated over trade disputes and border unrest, Kaelith watched his brother closely. Vaeron didn't blink. Didn't twitch. He absorbed every word like a wolf memorizing its prey's breathing.

When the session ended, Tharion rose without a word and began walking toward the dining hall. Kaelith followed at a distance, his footsteps silent against the marble.

---

The royal dining hall was quiet, save for the soft clink of silver against porcelain. A long oak table separated father and son by more than just distance.

Kaelith stirred his tea. "You didn't speak to me in council today."

"You had nothing worth saying," Tharion replied coldly.

Kaelith looked up, his red eyes steady. "You once told me silence sharpens the tongue. I've listened for years, Father. When do I speak?"

Tharion's gaze sharpened. "When you learn to stop questioning."

There was a moment of stillness, broken only by the distant toll of a bell outside.

Kaelith placed his cup down. "You speak to Vaeron as though he's already king."

Tharion's jaw clenched. "Because he acts like one."

Kaelith's voice didn't waver. "And what of compassion? Of wisdom over dominance? Are those not kingly virtues too?"

Tharion leaned back, fingers drumming against the table. "You want to rule through mercy. He wants to rule through power. Which do you think the world respects more?"

Kaelith stood slowly. "Then perhaps it's not the world that needs changing—but the throne."

Tharion said nothing as Kaelith turned and left.

---

Later that night, as stars bled across the black canvas of the sky, Kaelith wandered the Moon Courtyard. This hidden garden, once nurtured by Queen Amariel herself, was a sanctuary of white roses and silver lilies—untouched by the shadows of politics.

He sat beneath the old Moon Tree, where glowing blossoms fell like tears of starlight.

"You're late," came a voice from behind.

Kaelith looked over his shoulder to see Vaeron, arms folded, eyes faintly amused.

"I wasn't expecting an audience," Kaelith replied.

"You always come here when you're troubled." Vaeron stepped forward, brushing his fingers against a silver lily. "Mother's garden… funny how you still seek her comfort. Even when she's gone."

Kaelith frowned. "Don't speak of her like that."

Vaeron raised a brow. "Like what? As a memory? Or as the ghost clinging to your ideals?"

Kaelith stood, brushing the petals off his lap. "Why are you here, Vaeron?"

"Because I saw your eyes today, during the council. You think you're ready to challenge me, don't you?"

Silence.

Kaelith's fists clenched. "No. I just don't think fear should sit on the throne."

Vaeron chuckled. "Then you truly haven't changed. Still the golden-hearted boy who thinks virtue wins wars."

"And you've already given up on being human," Kaelith said coldly.

Vaeron's smile faded. "I haven't given up. I've evolved."

There was a pause. The moonlight filtered through the branches above them, casting fractured shadows across their faces.

"You know the Trial of Suns begins in four years," Vaeron said.

"I know."

"And when it does, one of us will kneel… or fall."

Kaelith met his gaze. "I won't kneel."

Vaeron smirked. "Then prepare to fall."

Without another word, Vaeron turned and disappeared into the mist.

Kaelith remained beneath the tree, heart thundering—not from fear, but from the weight of what was coming.

To be continued...