Chapter 22: Shadows of Schemes

Kael Vaelor slipped back into the banquet hall, his plain cloak brushing the marble floor, his emerald eyes still wide with the memory of Elshua's radiant presence.

The grand chamber of the Holy Palace buzzed with renewed energy, the clink of goblets and hum of voices rising after the Spark of Aeloria's brief appearance.

Cardinals in crimson robes and Exarchs in white resumed their chatter, their eyes occasionally darting to Kael, whispers of "the prince" and "the Spark" trailing him.

Kael's dark curls were slightly mussed from the gardens, his bronze skin catching the chandelier's light, his heart a storm of awe and unease.

Elshua's kindness, his laughter under the stars, and the reverence he commanded had left Kael touched by a light Veltharia's court never offered.

Yet, as he rejoined the Veltharian table, Duke Arvandus Vael's sharp gray eyes locked onto him, a predator's gaze, and Kael's stomach knotted, sensing the storm to come.

The banquet ended with formal bows, the Veltharian envoy escorted to their guest wing by High Priestess Mirene, her silver braid glinting, her hazel eyes neutral.

Kael followed Arvandus through the palace's glowing corridors, his sandals soft, his cloak a shadow compared to the duke's sweeping blue velvet.

The guest wing's oak-carved doors closed behind them, and Arvandus rounded on Kael in their private parlor, a chamber of ebony furniture and rose-filled vases, its silken drapes muffling the city's distant bells.

The duke's face was a mask of controlled fury, his gray eyes cold, his gloved hands clenched at his sides.

"What was that, boy?" Arvandus hissed, his voice low but venomous, his Veltharian accent sharp as a blade.

"Sneaking off like a thief, wandering the gardens, and dragging the Spark of Aeloria into your foolishness? You dare disrupt this mission with your recklessness?"

He stepped closer, his presence towering, his cloak snapping as he gestured.

"The entire hall stopped for that saint, and there you were, trailing him like a lost pup, drawing every eye. Do you know the risk you've put us in? The Empress Dowager sent you to stay silent, not to parade with Aeloria's heart!"

Kael stood rigid, his hands clasped behind him, his emerald eyes fixed on the floor, enduring the onslaught as he always had.

His jaw tightened, his nails biting his palms, but his voice stayed silent, the weight of Arvandus's words a familiar sting.

'He's furious,' Kael thought, his heart steady despite the ache.

'Not because I left, but because Elshua walked with me. He thinks I'm stealing his spotlight, his chance to win the emperor's favor.'

The duke's tirade continued, his voice rising, each word a lash meant to cut.

"You're a liability, Kael," Arvandus spat, pacing now, his boots sharp on the marble.

"Your blood's taint enough, but this? Troubling the saint himself? If this alliance fails, it's your name I'll lay at the emperor's feet, not mine. You think you can charm your way into Aeloria's grace? You're nothing—a bastard prince with no power, no place, and now you've made a spectacle!"

He stopped, his gray eyes boring into Kael, his sneer curling.

"Explain yourself, boy, or I'll ensure the empress hears every detail of your disgrace."

Kael's throat tightened, his emerald eyes lifting briefly, meeting Arvandus's gaze with a flicker of defiance he quickly buried.

"I… got lost, Duke," he said, his voice low, his Veltharian accent clipped.

"I needed air, wandered too far. The saint—Elshua—found me, guided me back. I didn't mean to cause a stir."

His words were measured, a shield against the duke's wrath, but inside, his thoughts raced.

'He's scared,' Kael thought, his heart a quiet fire.

'Scared I'll outshine him, that Elshua's favor gives me something he can't control. He's wrong—I don't want his glory. I just want to prove I'm more than their scapegoat.'

Arvandus scoffed, his gloved hand slashing the air.

"Lost," he mocked, his voice dripping disdain.

"A convenient excuse. You think I don't see through you? You're here to fail, boy, to take the blame when Aeloria rejects us. And now you've drawn the saint's eye, making it harder for me to navigate this court. Stay in line, or I'll bury you deeper than your mother's grave."

He turned, his cloak flaring, and Kael's fists clenched, his nails drawing blood, but his face remained impassive, enduring as always, the Empress Dowager's cold smile a shadow in his mind.

The duke sighed, his fury ebbing into calculation, and sat in an ebony chair, his fingers drumming on the armrest.

"The Pope is unyielding," he said, his voice low, his gray eyes narrowing. "Seraphius IV holds Aeloria's neutrality like a sacred vow, as expected. Our gifts, our words—they're not enough. Her Majesty foresaw this."

He leaned forward, his tone conspiratorial, his eyes glinting with ambition.

"We move to the second plan. Veltharia has… resources. High demons, summoned in secret, will breach Aeloria's borders. When they strike, our forces will intervene, driving them back. The Holy Empire will owe us, their neutrality cracked by gratitude. Aeloria will have no choice but to align with us."

Kael's blood ran cold, his emerald eyes widening, though he kept his face neutral, his hands still clasped.

'Demons?' he thought, his heart pounding.

'Summoning high demons to force Aeloria's hand? That's madness—treachery!'

The plan's audacity, its recklessness, stunned him, visions of demonic rifts tearing through Lumora's spires flashing in his mind.

He saw Elshua's golden eyes, his laughter in the gardens, and felt a surge of protectiveness, a vow to shield the saint who'd seen him as a prince.

'They'll destroy everything,' he thought, his voice silent, his resolve hardening.

'Aeloria, Elshua, all of it—sacrificed for Veltharia's ambition. I can't let this happen.'

Arvandus stood, his cloak sweeping, his voice cold.

"You'll play your part, boy," he said, his gray eyes piercing.

"Stay silent, stay out of my way. The empress expects failure from you, but I'll deliver success. Speak of this to no one, or you'll regret it."

He strode to his chamber, the door slamming, leaving Kael alone in the parlor, the air heavy with incense and tension.

Kael sank into a chair, his cloak pooling, his emerald eyes staring at the rose-filled vase, his thoughts a storm.

'Demons,' he thought, his voice low, his hands trembling slightly.

'They're willing to unleash chaos to trap Aeloria. The Pope, Elshua, the people—they'll suffer, and for what? Lysander's greed? Arvandus's glory?'

He ran a hand through his curls, his bronze skin paling, his heart racing.

'I'm nobody, a bastard with no power, but I can't stand by. Elshua… he treated me like I matter. I owe him something, don't I? I owe Aeloria for showing me light Veltharia never has.'

He stood, pacing the parlor, his sandals soft, his thoughts racing.

'How do I stop this?' he thought, his emerald eyes darting to the door, ensuring Arvandus was gone.

'Warn the Pope? No, he'd need proof, and Arvandus would deny it, blame me. The saint—Elshua might listen, but I'd risk exposing him to danger.'

He paused, his fingers brushing his cloak's faded eagle crest, a symbol of his shackled lineage.

'I need evidence, something to show what Veltharia's planning. The envoy's quarters, maybe—Arvandus's papers, orders from my fath—no emperor's. If I can find them, I can warn Aeloria without dooming myself.'

His heart steadied, a plan forming, fragile but resolute. He'd watch Arvandus, listen for hints, search for proof in the envoy's chambers when the duke was distracted.

'I'm no hero,' he thought, his voice low, his emerald eyes blazing.

'Not like the stories, not like Elshua. But I can do this—something small, something right. For Aeloria, for the saint who saw me.'

He thought of Elshua's golden hair, neatly trimmed, his golden eyes warm with laughter, and felt a spark of courage, a dream of proving himself beyond his blood.

The night deepened, Lumora's bells tolling softly, and Kael slipped into his chamber, his cloak set aside, his sandals quiet. He lit a candle, its flame flickering, and sat by the window, the spires glowing under the stars.

The weight of Veltharia's scheme, the Empress Dowager's trap, and Arvandus's disdain pressed on him, but Elshua's kindness was a beacon, a light he'd cling to.

'I'll find a way,' he thought, his voice firm, his emerald eyes steady.

'To stop this, to protect them. I'm not just a pawn—I'll be more.'

The candle burned low, and Kael, the outcast prince, forged his silent vow, his heart a flame that would not fade.