Chapter 26: The Weight Beneath Our Names
Lucien hadn't slept.
The raven's message lay on his desk, untouched since he first unfolded it. Every word echoed like a curse in his mind.
> "The crown will fall, and love will not save you."
He stared out of the tall window, the sun creeping slowly over the mountains, bathing the castle in a deceptive warmth.
A knock came at the door.
He knew that knock.
"Come in," he said quietly.
Eiran entered, hair slightly damp, wearing a high-collared navy tunic that clung to his form. His gaze found Lucien's face instantly, scanning for hidden truths.
"You didn't show up at the strategy hall," Eiran said.
"I know."
"Are you alright?"
Lucien hesitated, then stood and walked to him.
"No. But I will be."
Eiran didn't press. He just waited.
And that, perhaps, was what made Lucien speak.
"I received a warning," he murmured. "From someone… watching us."
Eiran's eyes sharpened. "Watching?"
Lucien nodded and handed him the note. Eiran read it in silence, his jaw tightening.
"The Obsidian Court," he whispered.
Lucien tilted his head. "You know them?"
"I know rumors. Whispers in dark halls. Assassins. Spies. Cultists who believe in restoring the 'original fate' of kingdoms."
Lucien's heart sank.
"Then they see me as a threat."
"They see us as a threat," Eiran corrected, folding the note with deliberate calm. "They wouldn't send this unless we were close to changing something."
Lucien gave a humorless laugh. "So the universe really is fighting back."
Eiran stepped closer.
"Let it fight. We've fought worse."
There was a silence between them—a fragile moment where loyalty, affection, and unspoken emotions hovered in the air.
Lucien looked away. "Do you ever think we're just delaying the inevitable?"
Eiran's voice was quiet but firm. "No. I think we're rewriting it."
Lucien's breath caught.
It wasn't just Eiran's words—it was the way he said we.
---
Later that day, Lucien walked alone through the garden maze behind the castle. The same maze Ravencroft had once used for secret trysts and quiet murders, if the book's lore was to be believed.
Now, he used it to think.
That's where he found her.
Lady Seraphina Duskvale.
The court enchantress. Ravencroft's former ally—and in some versions of the story—his betrayer.
She stood among the roses, fingers grazing a crimson bloom.
"Your Grace," she said without turning. "You've changed."
Lucien narrowed his eyes. "And yet you still speak in riddles."
She finally turned, lips curving. "The man I once served would've killed a prince before kissing one. So yes—there's change."
Lucien didn't flinch. "Did you come to warn me too?"
"No. I came to see if the change was real." She stepped closer, her violet eyes shining. "If it is, you'll need more than love to survive this game."
He studied her. "Then help me."
She paused.
"Help me protect him," Lucien said softly. "Help me break this fate."
Seraphina looked at him, long and hard.
And then—slowly—she nodded.
"Then the game begins anew, my lord."
---
That night, Lucien sat alone in the great hall, reviewing maps and coded reports from border scouts.
Eiran entered quietly and set down a tray beside him—wine, cheese, and warm bread.
"You missed dinner."
Lucien blinked. "Did I?"
"You also haven't smiled all day," Eiran added, voice light.
Lucien looked up and smiled faintly. "Is that part of your military observation?"
"No," Eiran said, sitting beside him. "That's part of being someone who cares."
The words settled over Lucien like a soft blanket. Unexpected. Comforting. Dangerous.
He turned, slowly, to face the prince.
"You shouldn't."
"Care?"
"Yes."
Eiran leaned in slightly, gaze steady. "Too late."
Lucien's voice trembled, just barely. "If they come for me…"
"I'll stand in their way."
"And if they come for you?"
"Then you'll stand in theirs."
Lucien's breath hitched.
This wasn't fantasy anymore.
This was real.
This was war, and politics, and blood-soaked choices.
But in this moment, with Eiran beside him, the fear dulled.
And something else bloomed.
Something fragile. And achingly beautiful.
---
To be continued…