Scapegoat

The grand throne hall stood empty, except for Ethan and the princess. Torches burned along the walls, casting dancing shadows over the stone columns. Ethan observed the place like someone studying a painting, every space, every royal symbol, all about to be redrawn in his own image.

"Today, we take the next step," he said, his voice low but firm.

The princess crossed her arms, her gaze still carrying something between defiance and curiosity. "I imagine you didn't bring me here just to talk."

"No," Ethan admitted, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smile. "My victory was already secured, so I summoned members of my cult beforehand. They should arrive any moment now."

She raised an eyebrow. "In the throne hall?"

"Exactly."

The doors opened, the sound echoing through the stone walls. Three figures wearing robes marked with the emblem of Aurelia approached, their steps sure and reverent. A middle-aged man with a calculating gaze, a young priestess with a serene expression, and an imposing warrior, each carrying a symbol of their faith.

"Welcome to the heart of the kingdom," Ethan said, stepping forward, the sound of his shoes echoing in the silent hall. "The newest ally of the church of Aurelia."

The young priestess knelt, pressing her forehead to the stone floor. "Herald of Aurelia, we are ready."

The princess blinked, surprised. "Herald?" The word slipped out tinged with doubt, but Ethan didn't give her time to ask more.

"Yes," he replied, looking directly at her. "I am the bearer of Aurelia's will. Her voice in this world. But beyond that, here, I am the one who decides how that will is fulfilled."

She drew a deep breath, absorbing that revelation. Her eyes, still full of doubts, shone with something close to excitement, not faith, but the realization of who had bested her. Knowing he was someone special soothed her ego about having lost.

Ethan turned to the three. "You may begin; I've seen in Eldranor the rituals you need to perform."

The priestess began to chant softly, and the middle-aged man lit candles using embers taken from a sacred lamp. The warrior planted a short blade into the floor, as a symbol that even strength bows to the goddess.

The princess watched, wondering why they were doing this here. To her, it seemed nothing more than madness. Ethan, however, didn't seem the least bit traditionally devout. He didn't appear to care at all about the ritual. He was the authority there, and he acted not just out of faith, but for himself.

"Do you really think the kingdom will accept this so easily?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Some will resist," Ethan replied. "But they'll realize there's no choice. Just like you will eventually."

His tone wasn't threatening, it was a cold certainty. As if he were describing something inevitable.

When the chants ended, Ethan stepped forward once more. "From now on, this castle will serve Aurelia," he declared, looking at the princess. "And so will you."

She didn't lower her head; her eyes remained empty. Still, through them, there was a hint of resistance mixed with genuine curiosity, maybe even admiration for such audacity.

"And if I say no?" she challenged.

"Don't act like you really have a choice," Ethan replied, his smile calm. "And besides, I know you want to see how far this will go."

In the throne hall, for a moment, there were no kings or queens. Only two alike people who believed that, in the end, someone would always be the one holding the leash.

Later that night, Ethan walked through the castle's stone corridors, accompanied only by the sound of his own footsteps. The torches along the way cast flickering shadows, as if they followed him. He knew it wasn't just an impression, even in the dimness, the princess's presence wasn't far.

She appeared at a corner, calm steps, hands hidden within the long sleeves of her dress. "Do you really think you'll succeed?" she asked without preamble. Her voice was softer, almost gentle, but still carried that same curiosity.

Ethan didn't slow his pace. "I already have," he said, voice firm.

She bit her lip, as if weighing whether that was arrogance or conviction. "I always knew you were dangerous," she murmured. "And still… I can't decide if I should find that fascinating or irritating."

They stopped in front of a large window overlooking the city. The capital's lights shone at night, small like embers in the dark. Ethan raised a hand, fingers lightly touching the cold glass.

"All this will change," he said, without turning to her. "And it will change for me."

"And for Aurelia?" she asked, with a hint of mockery.

"For me," Ethan repeated, now looking directly at her. "Don't mistake me for one of her followers. I'm simply paying what I consider a debt."

The princess stared at him for a long moment, trying to read his expression. But what she saw was only control, a coldness that mirrored her own. Even behind the smiles and jokes, that was something she'd always seen in his eyes.

"And why keep me alive?" she asked, glancing away for an instant.

"Because you're useful," Ethan said, with a bluntness that cut like a blade. "You've already built the web. Now all I have to do is use it properly."

She let out a dry laugh. "And who decides what 'properly' means?"

He stepped closer, so near he could almost catch the subtle scent coming from her. "I do."

Her eyes glimmered for a second, not with anger, but with that curious, almost twisted fascination she had for anything that slipped out of her control. "Then tell me," she teased, her voice smooth as silk. "What do you want me to do now?"

Ethan turned, his hair shifting slightly. "Keep doing what you always did. But now, do it for me. Expand your influence, keep the nobles busy. Just don't start any foolish wars."

She tilted her head, a half-smile forming. "You want power, but still in the shadows."

"That's where you're wrong," Ethan denied. "I already have power, and a kingdom better than this one… What I need now is a scapegoat."

For a moment, silence hung between them, dense as smoke. Then, in the distance, a sound echoed through the corridors. Ethan turned back to the window, watching the city.

"I still have much to do," he murmured, mostly to himself.

The princess frowned. "Like what?"

"I'm going to start rewriting this kingdom," he replied, his voice low, almost as if speaking to himself.

In the glass reflection, she saw his eyes gleam gold.