The three of them – Davos, Lysander, and Bran – were gathered in a chamber within Valerius's opulent palace. The room was quiet, the air still and warm, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within them. They sat, each picking at a plate of food, the silence punctuated only by the occasional clink of utensils. No one spoke. Their faces were grim, etched with frustration and defeat.

Suddenly, Bran slammed his silver plate onto the table, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. He shoved himself up from his chair, pacing restlessly. "We have to find a way to get it back," he said, his voice tight with suppressed rage. "To get back our coins. The coins they stole right from under our noses! We make a plan, we take them back, and then we get out of this cursed city. We start over. Somewhere new."

Lysander looked up, his expression weary. "Don't expect it to be easy, Bran. This isn't some back-alley mine. The guards here are soldiers and professionals. And Valerius… he's no fool. He'll have it hidden somewhere secure. Heavily guarded. The three of us, alone? We can't do anything by ourselves, we are on our own."

Bran whirled on him, his voice rising in anger. "What are you talking about? You're the last person who should be talking about plans! It was your plans that got us into this mess! Robbed, humiliated, defeated! And that… that smug Valerius, calling us fools! We'll pay him back. We'll show him who the real fools are in the end!"

Lysander, his voice remarkably calm, replied, "He's right, you know."

Bran's fury momentarily faltered, replaced by disbelief. "What did you say?"

Lysander repeated, his voice even, "He's right. He was right about what he said."

"How dare you say that about us?" Bran spat, his voice shaking.

Lysander cut him off, his voice rising slightly, but still controlled. "Bran, he is right! Look around you! Where are we now? Even if we did decide to steal… to 'reclaim' the coins – which, let's be honest, we stole too – where would that get us? Would we even survive a week out there? We don't have the strength, the experience. We're powerless, Bran. Believe me. Look at Valerius. His power, his control. His aura. He bends people to his will. He manipulates the workers, he does whatever he wants. That's power. And if we stay close, if we learn from him… we can gain that strength. That power."

Bran shook his head, his voice choked with emotion. "I won't listen to this… this garbage. I'm leaving this city. Even if I leave with nothing, I won't listen to you, Lysander."

Lysander stepped closer, grasping Bran by the shoulders, his eyes pleading. "Where will you go, brother? Huh? Back to Aslilia? Back to poverty? Look around you! Where are we now? This… this is what we dreamed of! Do you want…" His voice cracked, tears welling up in his eyes, "...do you want to go back to scraping for scraps, begging for the pity of our 'brothers'? To being looked down on? Do you want to go back to that? Look at how far we've come, brother! We've never had this. A safe place, warmth, good food. We don't have to beg for help anymore. Or charity. Or… or sympathy."

Bran's resistance crumbled. He buried his face in Lysander's chest, his body shaking with sobs. "I… I feel like there's a fire burning inside me, brother," he choked out. "I'm so angry. So… so defeated. Why… why did she do this to us? Why? I thought… I thought we were her friends. None of this makes sense! Why did she save us? Why did she save me? Risking her own life… only to betray us? That's… that's the real defeat. Risking our lives… for nothing."

Lysander held him close, his voice soothing. "It's alright, brother. It's alright. Everything will be okay. I promise you. Everything will be okay."

He embraced his brother tightly, and Davos, his silent presence a source of strength, joined them, wrapping his arms around both of them. They stood there for a long moment.

In the King's throne room, the King sat upon his massive throne, attended by Marcus, Theron, and Valerius. The Rulers stood before him, with Eva positioned near the King, alongside the Captain of the Royal Guard. Then, an envoy from one of the northern kingdoms – called Nordhall – a man named Zagith, entered the King's presence.

One of the guards stationed at the entrance boomed, his voice echoing through the chamber, "Envoy of the Kingdom of Nordhall, the envoy Zagith, Your Majesty!"

Zagith entered, approaching the throne with measured steps. He stopped before the King and bowed deeply. "It is a profound honor to stand before Your Majesty," Zagith said, his voice respectful. "I bring greetings, and with them, I extend wishes for your continued health and prosperity, and a warm invitation, filled with affection and goodwill, from Her Majesty, Queen Islene, and Prince Alaric, of Nordhall. They extend an invitation to visit our realm. In your honor, and also to celebrate the renewed ties between the northern kingdoms and your beloved kingdom, and to further strengthen our bonds after the reopening of the Northern Pass, they request the pleasure of your company at a grand celebration and tournament, showcasing skills of horsemanship. The Queen and Prince eagerly await your presence and would be most honored by your acceptance."

Zagith took a few steps forward and offered a sealed scroll to Eva, who accepted it on the King's behalf.

The King's voice, deep and resonant, filled the chamber. "Thank you, envoy. And welcome. Welcome to the Kingdom of Aslilia. We, too, are pleased by the restoration of relations with the northern kingdoms, and with the reopening of the Northern Pass. For we, the Kingdom of Aslilia, seek only peace, and we abhor any discord that might disrupt the harmony between ourselves and our neighbors. I still believe that the… strain… on our relations was caused by deliberate mischief. But, I most gladly accept this invitation." The King paused, a subtle shift in his expression that did not go unnoticed. "And I, myself, will gladly be there."

A wave of surprised murmurs swept through the assembled courtiers. It was highly unusual, almost unheard of, for a Sacred Womb bearer to travel personally.

Zagith, visibly taken aback but clearly delighted, bowed low. "That, Your Majesty, is an extraordinary honor. We truly hope to see, and eagerly anticipate, your visit."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The King turned to Eva. "Daughter, see to our guest's comfort. Ensure he is treated with the utmost hospitality and generosity."

Zagith, his voice filled with gratitude, said, "I am deeply grateful for your hospitality and kindness, Your Majesty."

Eva escorted the envoy from the throne room. Once they were gone, the King addressed the three Rulers. "Your brother, the new Ruler, Theron, has assumed his office," the King said, his gaze sweeping over them. "I expect you, Marcus, as the eldest, and you, Valerius, to support him fully. Is that understood?"

Marcus and Valerius bowed their heads. "As you command, Father."

Marcus approached Theron, offering a hand in congratulations. "Brother. I wish you every success in your new position."

Valerius, too, approached Theron, clasping his hand with a smile. "Congratulations, brother. I wish you all the best, and I look forward to working with you."

The King addressed Marcus and Valerius directly. "You two," he said, indicating them with a gesture, "will accompany me on this journey."

Surprise flickered across their faces. Marcus began to speak, "But, Father, I have…"

The King cut him off, his voice firm. "This is not up for debate. You will attend me."

Then, he turned his attention to Valerius. "Valerius, what happened? What truly happened? And what are these reports I hear of… devastation… at the mine? Of injuries and… deaths?"

Valerius, visibly flustered by the King's unexpected questioning, stammered, "Father, do not concern yourself with that. Things are… under control now. It was… a Skittermaw. It attacked the mine. They caused significant damage. There were… casualties, injuries. But… the situation is now contained. Valerius, visibly flustered by the King's unexpected questioning, stammered, "Father, do not concern yourself with that. Things are… under control now. It was… a Skittermaw. It attacked the mine. They caused significant damage. There were… casualties, injuries. But… the situation is now contained. The mines will return to workas soon as possible."

The King's voice was deceptively calm. "See to it that those who… suffered… are compensated. If they had families to support, provide a generous sum. A substantial sum of coins. And even if they were outsiders… compensate their families as well."

Valerius bowed low. "As you command, Father."

The King dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

As the three Rulers exited the throne room, Marcus quickened his pace, clearly wanting to distance himself. Valerius called after him, his voice urgent, "Marcus! Wait!"

Marcus, without breaking stride, reached a familiar spot – a balcony overlooking the city. He grabbed a goblet of wine from a passing servant and took a long drink.

Valerius caught up to him, his voice smooth. "I knew I'd find you here. Your favorite spot. I've known that for a long time. Are you trying to avoid me, Marcus?"

Valerius joined him on the balcony, standing close. Marcus remained silent, pointedly ignoring him, staring out at the cityscape.

Valerius continued, his voice laced with a subtle challenge. "I thought we had an understanding, Marcus. You, me, and Regulus. And then I hear that Regulus is dead… at the hands of one of your soldiers. And that one of your soldiers is now in prison. Oh, how I wish I had men as loyal as yours. But I knew, from that night… when he belittled you, mocked you… I knew you wouldn't forgive him. You wouldn't let it go. So you acted. And that makes me wonder, brother… should I be worried about my guards? About those around me?"

Suddenly, Marcus grabbed Valerius roughly by his tunic, his face inches from Valerius's, his eyes blazing with anger. "Yes, little brother," he growled, "I think you should be worried about those around you. You have no idea what I'm capable of. And if you think I don't know what you did with him, you're wrong, Valerius. I know exactly what you were doing. You twisted his mind, warped him until he was nothing but a mad, power-hungry tyrant, incapable of controlling his actions or his impulses. "And look at him now! Killed by our Father's own hand." I almost pity you. All you ever wanted was to rule Aslilia. But you'll always be nothing more than a stinking, power-grubbing, and filthy among the workers, in your filthy city."

Valerius, unfazed by Marcus's outburst, laughed in his face, then reached up and gripped Marcus's face, his fingers digging in. "You, too, brother," he said, his voice soft and menacing, "dream of Aslilia."

Marcus went silent, shoving Valerius away with a powerful push. Marcus turned sharply and stormed off, leaving Valerius alone on the balcony, his maniacal laughter echoing after him, his anger simmering.

Eden entered Clytos's laboratory, carefully carrying a box filled with empty glass vials. Clytos was hunched over his workbench, surrounded by a chaotic array of instruments and ingredients.

"Excuse me, Master," Eden said, placing the box on a clear space amongst the clutter. "I brought what you requested."

Clytos looked up, a faint smile touching his lips. "Ah, Eden. Thank you. How are you finding your first days with me?"

Eden smiled back. "Strange, at first, Master. But I'll get used to it. Thank you for accepting me as your apprentice. I feel… I feel like I have a purpose now."

"I'm pleased to hear that," Clytos said. "You're a bright lad."

At that moment, Aylauna entered the laboratory. "Excuse me, Brother Clytos," she said. "I wanted to inform you that Father is undertaking a journey. Sister Eva instructed me to tell you, as you will be accompanying us. In four days' time."

Clytos looked up, surprised. "Father himself is traveling? That's… unusual."

"Indeed," Aylauna replied. "I believe it will do him good. He hasn't left the palace in a very long time."

"Thank you, Aylauna," Clytos said. "Of course, I'll be pleased to accompany you all. And I shall bring Eden with me – my new assistant."

Aylauna's gaze shifted to Eden, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Your new assistant?"

Clytos nodded. "Yes. Everyone else seems to have one. I decided it was time I trained an apprentice. I am taking Eden under my protection."

Aylauna approached Eden, studying his face intently. Eden, though a knot of nervousness tightened in his stomach, managed to hold her gaze.

"Have we… met before?" Aylauna asked, her brow furrowed.

Eden forced a smile. "I don't believe so, Sister. This is the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting you."

Clytos chuckled. "He's one of our brothers, Aylauna. Of course, he's bound to have many who resemble him."

Aylauna hesitated, then offered a polite smile. "My apologies. I thought I recognized you. It's a pleasure to meet you, Brother."

Eden, fighting to keep his voice steady, replied with a small, almost forced, chuckle, "And it is a great pleasure to meet you, Sister Aylauna. I apologize now. I must leave." He turned and walked briskly out of the laboratory.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Eden let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That was… close," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

Clytos, who had been watching the exchange with a curious expression, raised an eyebrow. "Did you say something, Eden?"

"No, Master," Eden replied quickly. "Just… thinking aloud."

"Leave off the daydreaming," Clytos said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And come help me with this."