Chapter 5: Adric's Love

The evening's conversation left a heavy weight in the air, a silent understanding between Adric and his parents about the looming future and the burdens that would come with it. As the last of the light from the setting sun faded, Adric stood up, the exhaustion from the previous battle still weighing on his body, but his resolve sharper than ever.

"I'm leaving for the capital," Adric said, his voice steady, but carrying the weight of years of unspoken history. His father, Duke Orlan, looked at him with a mix of concern and acceptance, but it was Rowena, his mother, who felt the pang of a deeper understanding. She knew exactly why her son needed to return to the capital.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Rowena teased him, her voice light but affectionate. "Oh, you're not even officially married, and yet you're leaving your parents behind and going for your wife? Not even staying for a day?" Her playful tone couldn't hide the underlying concern in her eyes.

Adric chuckled softly, but the jest didn't fully reach his eyes. He had not yet told her of the real reason for his departure, and though she could guess, the weight of their conversation hung between them.

"There's much I need to do in the capital," Adric said simply. "And Isabelle... it's time to see her again."

The mention of Isabelle brought a bittersweet feeling to his heart. She had been his fiancée once, his first love, before duty and the rising darkness of the demonic threat had taken him away from her. He hadn't heard from her in years, but the love they had shared still lingered in his soul, like an old melody he couldn't forget.

The air in the estate was thick with the weight of expectations, and Adric stood alone in his chambers, staring out at the gleaming cityscape of Wyrmspire as dawn's first light bathed the walls. His armor was gone, replaced by simpler clothing, yet the memories of the battlefield still clung to him like a second skin—both in the form of his scars and in the quiet weight in his chest.

The news of the battlefield had spread far and wide—whispers of his triumph against the demonic swarms, of the strength he wielded in battle. Yet, his thoughts were far from the battlefield. His mind lingered on the past, on a love that was lost, and on a city that now felt more like a prison than a home.

Adric's heart had belonged to Isabelle once. The daughter of the Grand Duke family, Isabelle was a vision of grace, beauty, and intelligence. She had been his fiancée, his first love, and his reason for hope. The days spent in the imperial capital, learning together, dreaming of the future—those memories were what kept him grounded.

But duty, as it often does, had pulled them apart. At fifteen, Adric had been sent to the borders to protect the empire from the growing threat of demonic beasts, and Isabelle had been left behind, caught in the currents of political machinations and royal expectations.

Today, as he prepared to leave for the capital once again, he couldn't help but wonder how she had fared in his absence. The city had changed, as had he. His heart, once soft and full of dreams, had been hardened by battle and loss. The time to rekindle his past was long overdue.

Before he could get lost in his thoughts, the shadows of the room shifted. A figure cloaked in black appeared, moving with silent grace. The woman, her posture regal even in the shadows, wore a red flower-shaped medal at her chest, signifying her rank in the Shadows—Adric's most trusted and secretive group of operatives.

She kneeled before him, her voice a low whisper, "Sire, I bring unsettling news from the capital. After the death of your aunt, the first wife of the King, two years ago, the first concubine has risen to power. She has begun suppressing the first prince at every corner. It is even rumored she attempted an assassination on him, but the Shadows were able to intercept it."

Adric's expression remained unchanged, though the gravity of her words settled heavily within him. His father's political maneuverings had always been treacherous, but this was beyond what he had imagined. The court was in turmoil, and a new power had risen in the vacuum left by his aunt's death.

"Well done, Esther," Adric said, his voice calm but filled with authority. "I'll be leaving for the capital now. You will accompany me."

Esther nodded, her eyes narrowing as she rose from her kneel. "As you command, my lord."

The following day, Adric set out for the capital with Esther at his side. The journey was long, stretching over a month as they traversed the rugged roads leading back to the heart of the Empire of Varythar. Adric had always been a stranger in the capital, even though it was his birthplace. He had spent only his first fifteen years here before duty called him to the frontlines. His heart had never fully belonged to the capital, and yet, it was here that his past—his first love—awaited him.

As the capital came into view, Adric's mind was filled with memories of his younger self—memories of walking the grand halls of the Imperial Palace with Isabelle by his side, their laughter echoing through the corridors. Those days felt distant now, like a dream. Isabelle had been more than just a fiancée to him; she had been his light in a world filled with shadows. But that world had changed, and so had he.

They arrived at the family mansion in the capital, a sprawling estate that had been in the Varythar family for generations. As they passed through the grand gates, the sound of footsteps echoed in the silence of the estate. The mansion, once bustling with activity, now seemed quiet, almost hollow. Adric paused before entering, his gaze lingering on the familiar stone façade. So much had changed in the years he had been away.

"Esther," he said, his voice tinged with determination. "Keep your eyes open. The capital is a city of secrets, and the shadows here run deep. We need to know everything—the movements of the first concubine, the whispers surrounding the first prince. Everything."

Esther's gaze sharpened, her expression unreadable. "Understood, my lord."

Adric entered the mansion, his boots clicking sharply against the marble floors. His parents' absence was immediately felt—their presence in the capital had always been a silent force, like a foundation holding the mansion together. But now, it felt empty. Even in the halls that once echoed with the sounds of laughter, there was a stillness, a quiet that seemed to hold secrets.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. The capital was a place where the game of thrones was played with far more subtlety than any battle Adric had ever faced. But he was no longer the young prince he once was. He had seen blood, death, and betrayal. He had learned that in this world, nothing was as it seemed.

Adric's thoughts turned once again to Isabelle. He had not seen her since he was fifteen, and though the years had passed, his heart still carried the weight of their love. But the political unrest in the capital was not something he could ignore. Isabelle's family, the powerful Grand Duke family, was embroiled in the struggle for power. His arrival would be a signal—a signal that the heir of the Varythar family was back, and that the game was about to change.

As the doors of the mansion closed behind him, Adric knew that the next chapter of his life was about to begin. He would face the shadows of the past and navigate the web of intrigue that now held the capital in its grip. But no matter the cost, he would uncover the truth. He would protect his people, his family, and the love that had once been his.