The applause from the crowd slowly died down as Prince Lucien rose from his grandstand, his cherubic face still pale and his hands trembling slightly. The faint smell of urine lingered around him, a humiliating reminder of his fear, and his attendants discreetly tried to shield him from the prying eyes of the nobles. His earlier excitement had curdled into a seething rage, his pride wounded and his authority undermined by Lord Alden’s display of raw power.

The prince stepped forward, his golden robes swishing as he moved, though his usual regal demeanor was marred by the tension in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. He raised a hand, and the crowd fell silent, their eyes fixed on him.

“Lord Alden Fenralis,” the prince began, his voice trembling with barely suppressed fury. “Your... performance was... impressive.” The words seemed to stick in his throat, each one laced with venom. “The God-Emperor’s empire values strength, and you have certainly demonstrated that. As such, you shall be rewarded handsomely. Name your boon, and it shall be granted.”

Lord Alden stepped forward, his expression calm and composed. He bowed slightly to the prince, his tone respectful but firm. “Your Highness, I require no reward for fulfilling my duty to the empire. My actions were in service to Fenris Lupus and the God-Emperor. I ask for nothing.”

The prince’s forced smile faltered, his frustration evident. Before he could respond, Lord Valerius Magnus stepped forward, his presence calm but commanding. He bowed slightly to the prince, his tone respectful but insistent. “Your Highness, it would be remiss to let such valor go unrewarded. The God-Emperor’s attendants will expect a full report of this event, and it would reflect well on Your Highness to ensure that all is done according to tradition.”

The prince’s jaw tightened, but before he could speak, Duke Dragan Velmuth Draconis interjected, his deep, smooth voice cutting through the tension. “If I may, Your Highness,” Dragan said, his cybernetic eyes glinting with calculated amusement. “You did promise a handsome reward. Perhaps an appointment befitting Lord Alden’s stature would be appropriate. I propose that Lady Cassia Fenralis be named Governor-General of the Verdant Vale in the Driftveil Expanse. It is a position of great honor and responsibility, and one that would surely reflect the empire’s gratitude.”

The crowd murmured in surprise, and Garrett’s stomach dropped. The Verdant Vale was a backwater planet, isolated and far removed from the empire’s core worlds. While the title of Governor-General sounded prestigious, it was effectively an exile—a way to weaken House Fenralis by separating Lord Alden from his heir. The prince’s eyes lit up with understanding, and a sly smile spread across his face.

“An excellent suggestion, Duke Dragan,” the prince said, his tone dripping with false magnanimity. “Lady Cassia, you shall be appointed Governor-General of the Verdant Vale. A fitting reward for your father’s... exceptional service.”

Cassia’s eyes widened, but before she could respond, Garrett stepped forward, his voice steady but urgent. “Your Highness, if I may—I volunteer to take the position in my sister’s stead.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

The crowd gasped, and Cassia turned to him, her amber eyes flashing with protest. “Garrett, no! This is not your burden to bear.”

Lord Alden’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—pride, perhaps, or sorrow. He placed a hand on Cassia’s shoulder, silencing her with a gentle but firm gesture. “Garrett has made his decision,” he said, his voice heavy with reluctance. “We must respect it.”

The prince’s smile faltered, his frustration evident. He had hoped to drive a wedge between Lord Alden and his heir, but Garrett’s self-sacrifice had thwarted his plans. Reluctantly, he nodded. “Very well. Garrett Fenralis, you shall be appointed Governor-General of the Verdant Vale. May you serve the empire with honor.”

The crowd erupted into polite applause, though the tension in the air remained palpable. Garrett bowed slightly to the prince, his mind already racing with the implications of his decision. He glanced at Cassia, who looked as though she wanted to argue further, but Lord Alden’s hand on her shoulder kept her silent.

Inside the castle, Lady Elara Leonis Fenralis, wife of Lord Alden and mother to Garrett and Cassia, watched the events unfold via holo-projection. Her attendants stood nearby, their expressions tense as they observed her reaction. Elara was a woman of modest beauty, her ashen hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, contrasting with her porcelain skin. A small mole on her left cheek added a touch of uniqueness to her delicate features. She was the picture of grace and poise, but her composure shattered as the announcement was made.

Her hands flew to her mouth, and she swayed slightly on her feet. “Garrett...” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No, this cannot be.”

“My lady!” one of her attendants exclaimed, rushing to her side as she fainted. The other nobles in the room exchanged uneasy glances, their whispers filling the air.

“Such a blow to House Fenralis,” one murmured. “The Verdant Vale is no place for a young lord.”

“And yet, he volunteered,” another replied. “A noble gesture, but foolish.”

Lady Elara was quickly attended to, her attendants fanning her and offering her a glass of water as she regained consciousness. Her face was a mask of anguish, but she said nothing, her eyes fixed on the holo-projection as though willing it to change.

Outside, the prince retreated to his grandstand, his attendants scrambling to follow. His earlier excitement had been replaced by frustration, his plans to weaken House Fenralis thwarted by Garrett’s unexpected sacrifice. Lord Valerius watched him go, his expression unreadable, before turning to Duke Dragan with a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Dragan’s lips curled into a faint smile, his cybernetic eyes glinting with amusement. “A pity,” he said, his tone light but laced with meaning. “But perhaps not a total loss.”

Lord Valerius raised an eyebrow. “You play a dangerous game, Duke Dragan.”

“All games are dangerous,” Dragan replied, his smile widening. “But the rewards are worth the risk. After all, risk is the price of greatness.”

Garrett stood alone on the edge of the field, the wreckage of the Ignis Drones smoldering in the background. The weight of his decision pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he couldn’t help but feel a somber acceptance settle over him. He had always known that his place in House Fenralis was complicated, a second son with no clear path to power or glory. Now, that path had been carved for him, not by choice but by necessity.

As he stared at the horizon, the first hints of dawn breaking over the hills, a memory surfaced—a night from his past life, lying on a frayed picnic blanket under a sky ablaze with stars. His father’s voice echoed in his mind, soft and reverent. “Stars die, anak. But their light keeps traveling, even after they’re gone. Like… like stories.”

Garrett’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. His father had been right. Stars left behind their light, and humans left behind their stories, their love, their memories. That was their light. And though Garrett’s path was uncertain, though the Verdant Vale loomed like a distant, unkind star, he knew that this was his chance to leave something behind—something that might outlast him.

“Maybe the universe isn’t about lasting forever,” he murmured to himself, his voice quiet but resolute. “Maybe it’s about leaving something beautiful behind.