He didn’t have to pay attention to where he was going as his feet knew the way. Only too well as worries and simmering anger clouded his mind. Walking hurriedly, he barely registered the steps of his guards behind him as he passed the once-familiar murals. They had been recently repainted, the depictions of old heroic legends and beasts of magic covered by sky-blue paint and images of the God Nostoc. The one true god according to the Pleberien faith.

It was as if they were determined to infiltrate every damn piece of this country, just to make sure that none could escape or forget the faith they were supposed to worship.

The church had pushed for the remodeling years ago, but Valerian had delayed the desecration by stating to his father how greatly it would upset him. It had worked as his father had taken pity on his son who had so recently lost his mother. That was until a year ago, at which the King had decided Valerian was too old for caring about such frivolities. Simple as that, the murals which had covered the walls for centuries had been lost.

Valerian stopped in front of an oak door, behind which one of the many palace apartments lay. He didn’t need to look at the gold plaque depicting a boar mid hunt, to know he was at the right place. Having been there so many times before, he recognized even the pattern of stone in the wall.

Chasseurs.

Raising his fist, he hesitated before rapping on the door, receiving no response as usual. It was a futile protest as she had no real way of denying her prince entry, yet he considered turning away.

Only the frustration that had nearly boiled over during the meeting, made him stay and ignore her wishes.

“Wait here.”

He spoke softly to the guards before entering the small sitting room. Decorated soberly in shades of brown and green, it was a far cry from the extravagant colors popular among the nobles currently. Valerian preferred it, finding it more timeless and tasteful than the current trends.

Maybe he just had an old soul.

He found the occupant of the room standing in front of one of the two ceiling-high windows, which allowed the midday sun to beam into the room. Dressed in an all-black gown with her long brown hair plaided into a simple braid, Milena Valkyrea, or rather Milena Chasseur, looked as any noblewoman in mourning would. She had donned mourning clothes ever since her husband’s incarceration. At least behind closed doors. To the outside world, she had sworn off her husband and lived as if he had never existed.

"Milena, it is me.. Valerian."

The woman that had been as a second mother to him, didn’t even deign him worthy to turn around for. Her cold rejection hurt but it pained him even more that he had no one to blame but himself.

“I know you don’t want to see me, but I need someone to just listen to me.”

It wasn’t the first time he had come to her. She had been his trusted confidant ever since he had started to take up his duties as crown prince. Her sober mind and knowledge of the palace intrigues had made her advice invaluable to him. He had come to understand this better than ever after she had turned to silence. His punishment for ignoring her one request.

Not minding her stillness, he started pacing as he related all that was on his mind to her. Hoping that just saying the words out loud would help relieve some of his frustration.

“Father is falling ever deeper into the clutches of that wretched church. He doesn’t listen to me anymore, and now that the mercenary army has arrived, he is planning to start his holy crusade south. Has he gone insane? A war with the southern states will only bring us misery. I know that he wants to please the faith but this is going too far!”

Turning to the still unmovable figure, he stared at her back as if that would give him some answers.

“Unrest is brewing. The people are angry, justifiably so. Can you believe they banned begging? Homelessness? What are those to do who can’t afford housing due to the insane taxation? Just leave the city!? What is father thinking!?”

By now, he was half convinced that his father had truly gone mad.

“I can’t just let him continue. Somehow I need the people to desert the faith, but not me nor any of the nobles can do so.”

Lidea’s face appeared in front of his eyes, still wearing the filth of battle. Those grey eyes looked at him defiantly, even when she knew it was the end for her and her men. It had made him so angry at the time. How could she look at him as if he had been in the wrong when she had ignored all warnings and every offer his father had given for her to resolve the situation peacefully?

Why Lidea? Couldn’t you for once set aside your pride? Look what you have done to your family!? To me!? Do you think Syrion would be proud?

He could still hear the anger in his voice as he screamed in her face. For once not paying attention to what others would think.

“Only the resistance stands a chance, as their support will grow when more people get fed up with both the king and church. My concern was if they weren’t just magical fanatics longing to turn the country back to its past. If so we would be doomed either way.”

He stared at the face in his mind, instead of crying or begging, she had just smiled. Her eyes stared back at his without any hesitation as she answered.

They will understand.

She had been right. Both Milena and her oldest daughter Alana had not condemned her behind closed doors. Only disavowing her when asked. It was only him that had taken longer to realize that she had been right, but he finally had.

Preparing himself for Milena’s ire, he licked his lips. A nervous tic, he had never managed to lose.

“Now it is different. Lidea has joined them. She will lead them through the right pad.”

A movement of air, so slight that he barely noticed, caressed his face even as no windows were opened. Milena turned, her expression lacking any emotion except for the sharp brown gaze locking his. Her resemblance to Lidea was striking.

“You are planning to use my daughter.”

She spoke her words curtly, constraining her anger but not able to hide the venom completely.

“I am.”

“Haven’t you done enough already?”

This time she didn’t try to hide the accusation and Valerian felt the hollow pain of regret. Still, he stood his ground, fully aware that she would never be able to forgive his actions.

After all, Lidea had been captured only due to his help. It was him and not his father, that had known her mind and tactics well enough to predict her movements. Without him, his father would have lost half his territory.

He had done so believing it to be better than to let the country be ripped apart in a bloody civil war. But his intentions didn’t matter. He had betrayed the family that had welcomed him as one of their own.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“I regret what I have done and I thank all the Gods that she is still alive.”

An unnatural gust of wind rose, ruffling his hair in the onslaught.

“So now you can use her. Endanger her once more and treat her as a tool to be thrown away when you are done with her.”

Her expression had lost its stoicism and turned to pure anger. Her condemnation was almost palpable. A part of him wondered if some of that anger was directed at herself as well. In the end, she hadn’t managed to save her. He didn’t have the heart to point this out to her. Giving her a scapegoat to blame was the least he could do.

“I wanted Lidea to stay safe. Take this new chance at life and live it.”

“Liar! The only reason you are considering using them is because you trust her. You know she is capable to do your dirty work for you!”

The wind howled through the apartment, making him grab the couch to keep his balance and causing any loose items to be picked up and swung across the room. He didn’t deny her words as he knew them to be true. Valerian wasn’t proud of that fact, but he had a kingdom to consider. His personal feelings were of no importance.

“You are right, and I will keep doing so to keep my people safe.”

Suddenly all turned quiet again. As the wind died, items were left strewn all around. Her anger had simmered down as sudden as it had come and she turned herself away from him to stare out the window once more.

“Is that so? Then why did you come?”

“Father might be mad but he is no fool. The best chance for House Kyeira to survive is by supporting the church. The people hate our house as it was part of the old order in which magicians could rule with no consequences, and because they stand by this new order in which the church is allowed to impose its ridiculous rules. Without the church, the people would have long requested both our heads.”

As he spoke, he started putting back the things of which he knew where they belonged. A way to keep his restless hands busy while speaking.

“He forgot that our duty is not to our house, but to our people.”

His father’s plan would keep them alive. Living as puppet kings by the grace of the High Priest. One disagreement, one misstep and they would be deemed no longer useful and left to be eaten by the people. He was in denial, not able to accept that house Kyeira had already fallen.

“If we would turn our support to the resistance, we would effectively cut all their support from them. They would lose the people’s trust and see them as just another part of the royal institution.”

She showed no outward sign of disbelief or surprise, but he hadn’t expected her to. The daughter of one general and the wife of another, there was no way she hadn’t grasped the situation he was in.

“I still fail to see how this matters to me.”

“Because I will not let myself turn into my father. I need an advisor at my side, who will be honest with me. Especially as I will turn into an even better crown prince than my father wished me to be. I will side with the church and show my support to them by blood. I will become the evil that will turn Lidea legendary.”

She turned back to look at him. The shock was evident in her expression. Her eyes flickered over his face, no doubt wondering if he too had turned mad. Whatever she found, softened her features, turning her back into the concerned mother he had known as a child.

“You don’t need to do this. You are a good man, Valerian, and too many good people have lost their lives for the well-being of this kingdom. This wasn’t your fight, nor was it Lidea’s, but you both inherited it. Don’t let it take your life, as it did Syrion’s.”

Valerian could see the tears well in her eyes but she let none of them fall. Standing in her dark dress, she looked formidable as she hid her vulnerabilities from him. An unwavering rock that he could rely on, no matter how many waves crashed into it.

The sight triggered an old memory, one he had nearly forgotten. When he was fifteen, he had visited his father’s office, just to find him and Syrion arguing.

“Syrion, please just stop this madness. I can’t have my own advisor undermining me!”

His father had sounded so desperate, but instead of conceding, Syrion had rebuffed him gently.

“I can’t. Although I understand the people’s frustration, this witch hunt is not the way to solve it. They are acting no better than the magic users they so despise.”

“What do you want me to do? There are riots on the streets Syrion, I need to calm this down or the whole country will be destroyed! We have to concede!”

“To what end Morto? They are already asking to have all magic removed. What will you do with everyone that has it? That carries it?”

“Dammit Syrion! It isn’t that I don’t agree, it is that telling the people they are wrong, will just incense them further! You don’t need to change your opinions, but just keep them to yourself. It is an order!”

It had been the first time that he had seen his father act like a king in front of Syrion. They had always treated each other as closer than friends, more like brothers. Valerian knew it had been sheer desperation, but Syrion had just been too stubborn.

“My apologies, my Lord, but I have to refuse.”

“You are committing treason.”

“I know. You are asking something impossible so I have no choice.”

“Syrion! Do you know what the punishment for treason is!? What of your wife, your daughters!”

“Milena will take care of them.”

At the time, he hadn’t understood where his complete confidence had come from. Now seeing her standing there, he realized that Syrion was aware of how strong a woman he had married.

He had been right, she had protected them. Helped Alana keep her name and status at court, helped Valerian navigate his duties as crown prince, and helped Lidea by forcing his father into an oath to never hurt her.

An oath he had broken, and Valerian had helped him break.

“I do need to. You are right that we inherited this fight, and I will make sure that it ends with us. To do that I will need your help. I need to become a villain, but I need someone to pull me back if I ever lose myself. Can you do that for me?”

For a long time, neither spoke. A myriad of expressions passed over her face until it settled on a sad reluctance.

“It won’t make me forgive you. Lidea could have died. However, I still care for you as a son. I will help you as far as I can. Just promise me that you won’t throw your life away, that you will do your best to survive.”

It wasn’t as if he was that keen on dying himself, so it was an easy demand to give into. The truth that she would never be able to forgive him was harder, but he had already accepted it before he had come here.

“I will. For what it is worth, I’m sorry to ask this from you.”

“Don’t apologize if you aren’t sorry. I hate dishonesty.”

The venom had returned and he smiled slightly as she had caught him in a lie, even before he himself knew it to be one.

“Then let me thank you for your time. I will return soon to report my actions to you. I trust you to have others tell you my movements even if I wouldn’t.”

She didn’t reply but he didn’t need her to. Turning away, his eyes momentarily fell on the sword that hang next to the door. It was more dainty than most, decorated in a sober fashion with a boar and silver poppy which symbolized both the Chasseur and Valkyrea households. It had been his present to Lidea for her thirteenth birthday. He hadn’t expected her to still carry it after all these years, but after her capture, it had been the one thing he could give to Milena to remember her by.

Looking at it, he remembered that thirteen-year-old girl and his own self. What would he have thought of himself, if he knew what he would do to her in the future?

I will make it right.

Milena kept her silence as he stepped out of her apartment. While stepping out, he almost ran into Alana. Contrary to her mother, she was dressed in the finest silks imported from Sihaya, the newest fashion among the young nobles. No doubt courtesy of her fiancé.

The young lady looked annoyed as she glanced at the bouquets in her hands, making sure they hadn’t been damaged before she noticed who he was and dropped into a curtsy.

“My Prince! I greet you, jewel of Lynoës. My apologies, I didn’t know Mother had a visitor.”

She must be worried about his presence, knowing full well that her mother didn’t wish to see him. Still, it didn’t take away from her bubbliness which was so different from her more morose sister and mother.

“Greetings Alana, you can leave the formalities.”

Standing up she smiled coy as she brushed the hair behind her ear and gave him a mischievous wink.

“Understood Valerian.”

He couldn’t help but enjoy it when she didn’t treat him as the Crown Prince he was. More than any of them, she had been the most wary of doing so, knowing how her status as a traitor’s daughter could taint his image.

“I have heard that you are getting along well with your fiancé. Rumors are flying that the two of you are star-crossed lovers.”

A pretty blush colored those otherwise pale cheeks. He had been apprehensive at this arranged marriage. Knowing too well, that marrying the foreign merchant was because no local nobles would dare tarnish their names by marrying her. Even the forgiveness of the King, and the good standing of the Chasseur family, hadn’t been able to save her completely.

Seeing her like this, made him hope that she would at least find happiness in her marriage.

“He is an amazing man. So gentle and kind. I couldn’t have hoped for a better match.”

It wasn’t the declaration of love he had wished for, but it was hopeful. At least he would ensure she lived in the lap of luxury.

“I’m happy to hear so, sister. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

“Thank you, Valerian.”

He didn’t miss the fact that she denied calling him brother. The only hint that she bared as much ill will to him as her mother did. She was just better at hiding it.

“I will leave you to your visit. It was nice to see you again.”

“It was nice to see you as well. Be well, Valerian.”

Walking away, he turned to the guards that followed him again and waved them closer.

“Tell the general to increase the training schedule and tell the office of internal affairs, to find intel on the Northern quarters.”