The golden halls, vaulted ceilings, and great spires of Aurelis. They are as beautiful in their construction as they are devoted to a lie. Built-in praise of three tyrants portraying themselves as gods. - Reflections of Lysander of the Lucentine Order

Talia Vandrel's long black hair streamed behind her as she ran through the grand doors of the royal palace, skidding to a stop on the polished stone floor. Unfortunately, while she stopped, the twins following her did not. Serena Lovell managed to mostly stop, barely touching Talia. This was followed quickly by her brother, Sevrin, bowling into them. Sending all three teens tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Serena's platinum hair, a trait both twins had inherited from their mother, whipped past Talia's face as they fell.

Talia looked up at the grand vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall, blinking in confusion. The halls were brightly lit by silver chandeliers with glowing orbs on the ends of delicate arms. Surrounding the orbs were translucent glowing butterflies. Drifting in and around the orbs of light. The butterflies were a product of the chandeliers, an added enchantment.

It would have been a beautiful site without the foot in her face. She wrinkled her nose at its pungent smell. Of course, Sevrin's foot ends up in my face, she thought.

Talia was older than the Lovell twins, but despite the one-year age gap, they had been friends for almost as long as Talia could remember. The amount of trouble they get me in. The twins had a horrible habit of making her act like a child—something her tutors and minders, both at Red Lake and the palace, hated. There had been complaints years ago, and she had expected her father to punish or scold her. To her surprise, he had encouraged the friendship and told her to, within reason, ignore the complaints of her tutors.

"Sevrin, get your foot out of Talia's face!" Talia couldn't help but smile at Serena's authoritative tone. Then, the offending foot was gone, along with its overpowering smell. Their two faces came into view. "Are you alright?" She looked into the sharp features of her friends' hazel eyes. Talia couldn't hold back the laughter anymore, and she began to laugh so hard that tears pooled in the corner of her eyes.

"How—" she had to take deep breaths to control her laughter. "How did you lose your boot?"

"Laces weren't tied." Sevrin's face grew pink as the two girls laughed about his bootless foot.

The three of them were still breathing hard from their run. Talia could feel her heart pounding. It had been years since she'd given Nyassa the slip. I hope she remembers the game. Since it had been so long, Talia was worried that she would take it as a slight instead of them playing. Such a child's game. The thought was fleeting. Nyassa would remember how the game is played, or she wouldn't. There was little point in worrying about it.

Sevrin reached down and pulled Talia to her feet.

Even though Sevrin was a year younger, he was already taller and much bulkier than Serena and Talia. Unlike Serena, who had her mother's slim frame, Sevrin was already showing he would be tall and broad. Even at thirteen, his shoulders were wide. He was strong, too. A voice broke Talia's distraction, and she blushed when she realized that she had been staring.

"Gross!" Serena said, "I hate it when you two look at each other like that."

Talia looked to Sevrin for help, but he was blushing. She hadn't been the only one staring. "I was—"

"Talia," a distant voice called playfully.

Oh, thank the Daughter. Nyassa's tone was light and joyful, and she only feigned anger. Talia jumped at the opportunity to change the subject. She grabbed the hands of each sibling and practically dragged them further into the palace complex.

Talia loved both twins; she had loved them as long as she'd known them. However, recently, she noticed that her love of Sevrin had changed into something she didn't quite understand—something that was still developing. It scared her, and she took every opportunity to push those feelings aside, hoping the old ones would return.

It didn't take long before the twins stopped needing to be dragged. Their active participation helped mitigate the commotion the three were causing among the servants, most of whom were trying to finish their last tasks of the day. Talia felt terrible for causing trouble, but the excitement of the chase and being able to share that excitement with friends overshadowed any guilt at making messes others would have to clean up.

They sped past the paintings decorating the palace's halls. There were portraits of Talia's family, ancient cities that no longer stood, and images of great mages and their works. Some of those paintings had been commissioned before the Fall. Talia's favorites were the ones of the Triune and, among them, the ones portraying the Daughter. The paintings were all protected by a thick layer of enchanted glass that kept them clean and in good condition.

Only a few pieces of art had survived the Fall and her father had started collecting them when he was first crowned king. Her father had turned the palace into a gallery of art and history. Magical components, enchanted tools, and, in some cases, living plants. All were carefully laid out in the many halls of the palace and required constant tending.

The building added to the splendor: tall vaulted halls, pillars, and columns overlaid with gold and silver. The stone itself was unique—perfectly seamless. All the grains and patterns on the floor matched. There was a particular silver streak that Talia could follow from her rooms to the kitchens. That streak led whoever followed it directly to where Cook Fielding kept cookies.

Not that she had ever abused that knowledge.

The trio stopped to catch their breath just outside of the library. "Do," Serena said while gulping down air, "do you think we lost her?"

"Not a chance," gasped Talia. It annoyed her that Sevrin didn't even look winded.

"We aren't hiding in the library, are we?" asked Sevrin.

"No." Talia was horrified at the idea. The library was holy ground. I doubt even Father could even get away with causing a scene there. The librarian, Vivienne Eloraine, was a vicious old lady who would not balk at disciplining anyone. The number of times Serena had been punished by her for the simplest infractions.

Hateful old bat, she mentally cursed.

"Good, I don't want to take a switching for either of you."

Talia watched Serena roll her eyes, "aren't you brave." She mocked.

"Only when I have to be."

That's when it hit Talia. There was a place where Nyassa had never been able to find her. There was a false wall in one of the unoccupied rooms. The wall hid a small space. It had been years since she had been back there. It would be a tight fit for the three of them, but it would also be the perfect hiding place.

"I know where we can hide!" she said as she set off for the other side of the palace complex.

Talia led them to a nearby exit onto the open grounds of the palace gardens. It was dark, and the three crept from bush to cultivated bush, doing their best to stay in the shadows so they wouldn't be spotted. The garden overlooked the city of Vandry. The city was lit with lights, alive even into the night.

Talia could see the great walls encircling the city from the open section of the palace gardens. The palace was built on a steep hill that dropped sharply into the Lucent River on one side. The vantage meant that if you went up one of the palace's towers, you could see everything for miles. Talia loved to watch the city from up there during the day. She could watch the many river ships coming and going. Seeing the activity made her feel alive.

With Talia leading them, they quickly reached the private section of the palace where the royal family lived.

"Talia, are you sure were okay to go in there?" asked Sevrin

Talia looked back at her friends, who were both hesitant to go further into the private area of the king and his family. "Of course, come on!" Serena followed, but Sevrin still looked hesitant. "It's fine. My father and brother were taking meetings all day. They probably won't be done until midnight." At this, Sevrin haltingly took one step and then another, catching up with the two girls. Talia tried to get them to run, but Sevrin wouldn't. He was walking like every step would spell calamity. Why is he so uncomfortable? It confused her.

"Talia."

All three of them jumped, Sevrin the most. It was Nyassa, and she was close. Talia grabbed her two friends, "In here!" and pulled them through the nearest door. It was a small sitting room. Her father used the room for more informal but even more private meetings.

"...it could mean war between Belmara and Thralos if—"

Too late, Talia realized the room was occupied. They had just piled into a room where the king, the crown prince, and the Duke of Belmara were mid-conversation. The three friends froze as the high nobles looked at them in surprise.

"What is the meaning of this," demanded Evander, crown prince of the realm. Talia's elder brother. She had never liked the pointy-chinned man. He was her senior by twenty years and loved to lord over her that he would one day be king of the duchies. Evander had none of their father's quiet but intense gravitas. He lacked their father's commanding qualities. His voice was higher pitched and had a perpetual whine to it. The only quality he had inherited from their father was the raven black hair.

Evander had shot from his chair and was looming over the three teens. Dark brown eyes gleamed with eager malice. "We didn't think—" stammered Talia. She wanted to hide, to run, but her friends were there. It was her fault they were in this mess.

"You didn't think," Evander sneered. "That’s typical of you, sister."

Talia looked to her father, but he held up a finger, stopping Duke Maras from doing anything. Talia's fear grew to new heights. He's not going to stop Evander. The realization hurt, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. This was her mess. The king expected her to handle it.

"Answer me!"

Her brother had been yelling something at her as she processed the situation where she had placed herself and her friends. "What?" The question was immediate and slipped from her mouth without thought. It was the wrong thing to say. She flinched as he raised his hand to cuff her. She had been on the receiving end of enough of them. She would be feeling it for the rest of the day.

"It was my idea," Sevrin's voice was calm.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Evander's raised hand stopped as every eye turned to Sevrin. Talia’s stomach dropped out from under her. As a princess of the realm, Evander was limited to the physical harm he could cause her. That same limit did not apply to the son of a baron. Not even a baron as powerful as Ven Lovell.

"And what was your idea, boy?"

As Sevrin stepped into Evander's space, Talia watched as he met his beedy-eyed glare with steely resolve. This was a side of Sevrin she rarely saw. The carefree smile and easygoing attitude were gone. Replaced by the gaze of a predator. He doesn't realize what he's doing! Evander could be cruel and would nurse grudges until the end of time.

"It was my idea to come to this wing of the palace. I wanted to see it." Said Sevrin.

Evander looked at Sevrin before a facsimile of open friendliness wiped the sneer away. It was as convincing as it was honest. "Why didn't you say so!" The forced cheer made Talia's skin crawl. Evander was working himself up to something. "And pray tell, how do you find the royal quarters? I do hope they are up to your standards."

"The entirety of the palace exceeds my expectations, my prince." Evander puffed up at hearing his title. His love of flattery had always disgusted Talia. "Unfortunately, there seems to be a rodent problem."

Evander's expression turned puzzled, "A rodent problem?".

"A very large one."

"Explain, boy."

"It’s right in front of me."

The room was stunned into silence. To say something like that to a man like Evander. Quick as a viper, Evander's hand shot out, slapping Sevrin. The blow was strong enough to send him staggering.

Serena made to step forward, and Talia grasped her wrist, trying to stop her from interfering. She practically vibrated with anger, and if looks could kill, Talia's brother would be a corpse. Thankfully, she didn't fight Talia's hold.

"You dare," Evander hissed. Evander grabbed Sevrin's collar and backhanded him. Talia watched in wide-eyed astonishment as one of Evander's rings left a bloody gash from Sevrin's cheekbone to his upper lip. Evander raised his hand to strike Sevrin again, balling his fist.

"Serena, don't!" Serena twisted her wrist, breaking free of Talia's grip. Despite the size difference between her and Evander, she looked ready to pounce and try anything to stop him.

"Enough." The king's voice rumbled throughout the room like a distant storm. His calm command made Evander freeze, and in the silence that followed, Talia could still feel the faint vibrations of the king's command resounding in her chest like echoes of thunder.

Talia was always astounded at the authority her father could command with a simple word. Magic helps, but she knew it was untrue even as she thought it. Magic did help, but she knew that even without magic, her father would still command the same level of respect and grandeur.

"Bastien, remind my son who he is beating on."

"Your grace?" The king laid an imperious gaze on Bastien Belmar. Talia felt sympathy for the man. She had been on the receiving end of that gaze many times. Bastien's pasty skin paled even more. He adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles and said, "The crown prince is currently disciplining Sevrin Lovell." The king motioned for him to continue. Talia could see Lord Belmar's hazel eyes darting around the room. First to the people, then the exit. It was apparent to her that the man wanted to flee. She found, to her shame, that she wanted the same. “Sevrin Lovell is the son of Ven Lovell your grace.”

"And who is Ven Lovell?" The king's dark eyes fell on his son. Evander still held Sevrin by the collar. Blood ran down his cheek, dripping from his face onto the carpet.

"My vassal, the Baron of Red Lake." Talia could see sweat beginning to roll down Belmar's pasty skin. "Your grace, I should step—"

"You will stay in that seat, Bastien."

Lord Bastien Belmar hunched his shoulders even more, trying to curl up and hide.

"Father, I know exactly who—"

A single raised finger silenced Evander. "You know, but you don't understand. So I will help you to understand." Evander's face reddened. "You just struck and potentially scarred the son and heir of one of the richest men in the duchies. Over an insult from a child." The complete lack of emotion in her father's voice made Talia shiver. "You've damaged one of his children and threatened another."

"I made no threats!" sputtered Evander.

The king’s eyebrow lifted as he turned to Sevrin. Talia’s heart sank—everything had spiraled out of control. She had been playing a child's game, and somehow, it had devolved into Sevrin being assaulted by her brother. Now, the king was going to extract his due as well. Please don't, father. Talia's father could be thorough when it came to exacting justice.

"Sevrin. You're getting blood on my carpet." The king motioned for Evander to release him.

"Apologies, your grace," said Sevrin, pressing the sleeve of his tunic against the bleeding gash.

"Why did you insult my son, Sevrin?"

"To draw his attention, your grace."

"Deliberate then?"

Sevrin nodded in response.

"To protect the girls?" Again, he nodded, and Talia thought she saw the ghost of a smile kissing the king's lips. Then he turned to Evander, and the good humor Talia believed was on her father's face vanished as if it had never been. "I have learned a few things from this intrusion."

"Father?"

"One," the king raised a finger, "Sevrin Lovell is a smart and quick-witted young man." Evander's face reddened.

"He—"

The king kept talking, and despite not raising his voice, it still drowned out Evander's. It was as if he was speaking directly into Talia's ears. "And two," a second finger joined the first, "the heir to my throne is easily manipulated. "The duke squeaked as the king focused on him. "Lord Belmar. The border skirmishes will stop and remain stopped. As long as I am king, your duchy need not fear further aggression from Thralos." The king returned to Evander, "I will pen a message for Duke Thral. You will deliver it personally and return with his response. Nyassa." Talia was shocked to see her maid step into the room.

She was listening at the door!

"Yes, your grace?"

"Escort the Lovell twins back to their quarters. See to it that the boy's cheek is looked at, and tell Lord Ven and Lady Elara what happened and offer them my sincerest apologies." Then, finally, his eyes fell on Talia. "Go to your room, Talia; we will talk shortly." Talia just nodded, trying to keep the relief from her face.

"Apologize," Evander exploded. I will not allow you to drag our name through the mud by apologizing to people so far below our station that they might as well be commoners!"

"Evander, you enjoy inflicting pain, and your ego is so inflated you can't help but parade it to others. That is what makes you so easily manipulated. The fact that your reputation is known well enough for a child to take advantage of disturbs me. You will go to the Thralos Marches and give Gavriel Thral my letter. You will do it without complaint and while acting the part of a prince." the king didn't raise his voice, but Talia could see it had the same effect on everyone present. A weight was bearing down on them. Unavoidable. Inevitable. Calamitous.

Nyassa was the first to move. Gently grabbing Serena's and Sevrin's arms, leading them out of the room back towards the guest quarters. Talia watched Duke Belmar's eyes dart around before jumping to his feet, bowing to the king, and running out of the room. The poor man looked like he was going to be sick.

Finally, Talia worked up the courage to move. She felt like a ghost drifting into her room. What have I done tonight? Her brother would be king, and she had just exposed her two best friends to his worst side. Not only that, they saw him chastised. Her brother held grudges, and being so thoroughly embarrassed, even if it was a result of his own actions, could breed murderous thoughts in her brother.

He's impulsive and violent. But that didn't mean he wasn't capable of scheming. Schemes and plots. Talia's father had sheltered her from most of them, but the court partook in the game. Schemes and plots. She chanted the old mantra to herself as she walked to her room.

Talia's room was dark; she ignored the light switch, collapsing into her plush bed. Typically, sinking into the soft mattress was comforting, a place of safety. Now, it felt like an anchor carrying her to the bottom of the Lucent River—down hundreds and then thousands of feet to a river bed that no human knew the depth of. Evander had gotten his punishment.

I wonder what mine will be. She could think of all sorts of horrible things: scrubbing floors, cleaning pots. Her father had always liked using common labor to give his daughter "perspective." She hated that word. But the punishment she most feared would be the Lovells being encouraged to return to Red Lake, encouraged to return without her.

Their father would have them out of the capital by first light. Ven Lovell preferred his lands to the capital. The king's request to attend him in the capital was not a request he had willingly agreed to. Talia dreaded the Lovell twins leaving.

Serena and Sevrin were two things she had never had before. Friends. Friends who didn't care about her station and what kind of power they might be able to glean from it. Her father could and would take that away if he felt it would benefit her long-term.

A knock at her bedroom door broke Talia's spiraling thoughts and made her jump. "Come in."

The door opened, and light from the hallway illuminated the king's silhouette. Tall, broad shoulders, and lean. The king hit the switch near the door, activating the room's mage lamps. The lights illuminated a large room with high ceilings. Exposed wooden beams crossed the ceiling. White stone walls were covered in ornate tapestries. Some depicted monsters, others primordials. One of the most beautiful depicted three figures standing in opposition to a black and silver shadow. The fall of the Triune and their final sacrifice to save humanity.

Talia lay on her four-poster bed. The royal blue curtains open. No point in hiding. It would be better to get what was coming over with.

The king looked around her room, "You've redecorated."

It had been years since she had redecorated. "Yes. Do you like it?"

"You have your mother's tastes," he said, picking up a chair and bringing it close to Talia's bed. "What was your mistake today, Talia?"

The warmth in his voice surprised Talia, and she looked up from her feet to see a faint smile on his lips. Maybe I did see him smile earlier. Talia had made many mistakes today, running from Nyassa and playing in the royal living quarters, being only a few. They weren't what her father was asking for. "I froze."

"That was part of it." The king spoke softly but with purpose. "You took friends into your arena. An arena you were not ready to protect them in."

"You knew it was my idea, and yet you still let Sevrin take the punishment for it?"

"Sevrin impressed me today. Serena, too." The king chuckled. "She was getting ready to claw Evander's eyes out."

Talia just stared at him in horror. She had hoped that Serena's actions had gone unnoticed. "She would have," groaned Talia.

The look on her face caused her father to laugh—deep belly laughs. They echoed throughout the room, reverberating off the walls. The room had always been comfortable to Talia, but her father's laughter filled all the empty spaces. It warmed the room. Talia couldn't help but laugh with him. The image of Serena attacking Evander was comical and scary.

They could have laughed for seconds or hours; it died far too fast for Talia's liking. She was seeing a side of her father that he hadn't shown her since she was a small child—since before her mother died. "What do you think of the twins?"

"They are my friends."

This made the king smile broadly. Talia thought a smile fit his face much more than his constant, purposeful expression. "Good. Very good." He reached out and gently grasped Talia by the shoulder; his dark brown eyes met hers. "Guard them well, Talia. True friends are hard to find." He released her and slowly stood. He looked around the room as if taking it all in. Talia watched his eyes settle on a book on her bedside table. Talia watched as he walked over and picked it up.

"History of the Armkine," he raised an eyebrow, "You've long since passed this area of study. Why the interest?"

"It was a gift from Lady Elara; I’ve always been fascinated by their architecture, and this book goes much more in-depth than anything I've read."

Her father idly flipped through the book, looking at the pages. "It's a pity the Jonras never shared much of their knowledge. They'll have an answer for every unanswered question in this book." He closed the book gently before placing it back on the bedside table. "That and more, I imagine," sighed the king.

Talia's eyes grew wide at the mention of the Jonras. The water beings were the true masters of Solara. "I thought the Jonras didn't have written records."

"They don't; their history is all oral and passed down in songs, but there are members of their race who were alive when the Armkine lived here."

"But that would make them…," Talia paused as she searched for the right word.

"Ancient," supplied her father.

"Yes, they would be ancient. Is it really possible for something to live that long?"

"The ambassador that visits every decade probably has." Her father paused in thought. He… it… hard to tell their gender, but he has hinted at his age."

"How old," asked Talia

"He was alive when our ancestors arrived here and long before that. I couldn't get much else out of him."

"That's a very long time," Talia said through a yawn.

"Yes, it is." The faint ghost of a smile was back. "Get some sleep, Talia."

Talia watched as he moved to the door, "Wait! What about my punishment?"

Her father turned to face her, and she could see that it was Gideon Vandrel, the king, not her father, who looked at her. "Sevrin being hurt was more punishment than necessary." Talia frowned deeply, but the king continued, "Don't dwell on it. Learn. Adapt. Move forward. You are a princess of Lucendia. When you make mistakes, others will often pay the price."