2026-11-12 16:06:28
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Ch16: The Problem He Brought Home
For a moment, no one moved. The room had gone so still it felt like even the air had stepped back to watch.The maid remained on her knees, hands trembling, eyes fixed on the floor like it might swallow her whole if she dared look up again. The knights stood frozen. One had half-raised his hand earlier, as if to intervene, but now even that small motion had died midway. No one wanted to be the first to react, because no one knew how.The Crown Prince had just been thrown. Not stumbled. Not pushed. Thrown. And the man responsible was eating.Albert took another bite of the biscuit, chewing slowly, as if the entire situation was a minor inconvenience at best. Crumbs fell lightly onto the floor. He didn't even bother brushing them off.Cassian lay on his back for a second longer. Not because he couldn't move. Because his mind refused to accept what had just happened. That voice. That tone. That same irritating calm that had followed him from the hunt
Ch15: The Fly In The Palace
The palace gates opened just as the morning light settled over the capital. The hunting party returned in formation, armor gleaming, banners swaying lightly in the breeze. Horses slowed as they crossed into the palace grounds, hooves striking stone in steady rhythm.At the front rode Cassian. Back straight. Eyes forward. Unbothered by everything around him. His presence alone pressed the air thin. Dust clung faintly to his boots and cloak from the hunt, but it did nothing to dull his presence. If anything, it made him look sharper. Harder. Like something that had been out in the wild and found the palace beneath it.A servant hurried forward the moment his horse stopped. Cassian swung down without waiting, the reins taken from him before his boots fully settled on the ground."Your Highness, welcome back—""Spare me," Cassian said flatly, already walking past him.The servant froze, bowed quickly, and stepped back.Another approa
Ch14: A Room, A Thought, A Terrible Idea
The palace corridors did not believe in modesty. They stretched endlessly, lined with tall pillars, polished floors, and walls that looked like they had never known dust. Every step Albert took echoed just a little too loudly, as if the place itself was judging him.He walked between two knights who treated him like a fragile criminal. Not chained. Not free. Just escorted.Albert carried his bag over one shoulder, expression flat. "If this is hospitality," he muttered, "I'd hate to see imprisonment."Neither knight replied. Of course they didn't. They had the personality of locked doors.Eventually, they stopped before a wooden door tucked into a quieter section of the palace. Not grand. Not decorated. No golden lions roaring across it. Just a door.One of the knights opened it. "Your quarters."Albert stepped inside. The room was small. Not insulting, but not impressive either. A narrow bed rested against one wall, neatly made with clean sh
Ch13: To Bargain Before The Throne
The throne room was larger than Albert thought necessary. Everything in the imperial palace seemed built with the same philosophy. If a room could be normal, make it enormous. If a hallway could be practical, make it intimidating. If a chair could be comfortable, carve lions into it and raise it on a platform.Albert walked between rows of stone pillars beneath a ceiling so high it looked offended by ordinary people. Torches burned in iron brackets, and guards lined the walls in polished armor, motionless as statues and likely possessing similar personalities. His footsteps echoed across black marble.At the far end of the chamber sat the Emperor. No crown. No excessive jewels. No need. Power draped itself over him more effectively than fabric. He lounged slightly in the throne as if kingdoms were tiresome furniture, black hair framing a sharp face touched by age but not weakened by it, red-brown eyes studying Albert with the lazy focus of a predator deciding whether curiosity was wor
Ch12: To Be Jailed
Albert was thrown into the cell with all the grace of unwanted laundry. He stumbled forward two steps, nearly dropped the travel bag still clutched in his hand, and had just enough time to regain his balance before the iron door slammed shut behind him with a thunderous clang. The sound echoed through the stone corridor.Albert turned sharply. "Charming!" he shouted after the departing guards. "You could have been gentler! I am merchandise!"The two knights escorting him did not even glance back. Their boots faded down the corridor.Albert stared at the closed door for a moment, then scoffed. "Rude."He adjusted the strap of his luggage and looked around the room that now claimed ownership of him. The cell was little more than a stone box. No window. No bed. No table. No straw. Nothing hung on the walls except coldness. Even the air felt offended.Albert stood in the center of it and slowly turned in a circle, then looked up at the ceiling. "You ki
Ch11: The Emperor's Window
Night had long since swallowed the capital. From the highest chambers of the imperial palace, the city below looked less like a place of people and more like a sea of stars. Lanterns burned along the streets in endless lines, carriages moved like slow insects over polished roads, and music drifted faintly from distant noble districts where men with too much money celebrated nothing at all.Above it all stood the palace. Cold. Silent. Watching.Inside one of its private chambers, only a few lamps burned, their low light touching marble pillars, dark carpets, and walls lined with maps of conquered provinces. Shadows stretched long across the room, bending around furniture carved from blackwood and gold.At the far end, before a tall window, stood the Emperor. His hands were clasped behind his back. He wore no crown. He did not need one. Authority sat on him more naturally than silk. Black hair streaked lightly at the temples fell to his shoulders, a trimmed beard
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