Everyone in the room was stunned by the bold outburst. There was a thick mixture of confusion, disbelief, and unease hanging in the air. It was complete chaos, silent, tense chaos.
The knights sat frozen in place, unsure how to react. The eunuchs stole glances at each other, quietly enjoying the drama unraveling before them, certainly something to gossip about later in hushed corridors.
Only King Kaelion wore an expression that betrayed no surprise.
Queen Aradelle, seated beside him, turned to study her husband. She was hoping to see outrage, confusion....something. But what she saw instead deepened her suspicions. The king was hiding something.... something of great importance.
"You'll watch your mouth, woman!" snapped Duke Ronric, rising to his feet.
"You are speaking to the king of the seven kingdoms!"
"I speak to no king," Nyra replied coldly. She turned her gaze to Kaelion, who still hadn't said a word.
"You're not a king. You're a traitor, born of a traitor. You were given a chance to do good, to rewrite the wrongs of history, and yet you chose treachery. No, you're not a king… you're just a man. A man sitting on a throne that does not belong to him."
Gasps filled the courtroom. Even the crackling torches seemed to flicker with unease. The weight of her words slammed into everyone like thunder. Bold. Dangerous. Accusing. And yet... Kaelion remained still. Silent.
But not unaffected. His brows furrowed in brief confusion. Then, just as quickly, his face grew calm again. Expressionless.
He stared at the couple for a moment longer and then did something no one expected.
He smiled.
A wide, unsettling smile, like a man who had just won a battle no one else saw coming.
Confusion spread across the room like wildfire.
The king chuckled softly.
All eyes followed his gaze... to the couple.
Their eyes were glowing red. But not a natural red, not bloodshot, not irritated. It was as though fire lived within them. As though molten lava could begin pouring from them at any moment.
Fear crept into every corner of the chamber. Even the bravest of knights looked shaken.
The king's smile vanished.
"Everybody out," Kaelion said, his voice low but commanding. "Now."
"Sire, please...."
"One more word from you, Varos or from anyone else in this room and you'll be begging for death."
The king's voice was like gravel on steel_ sharp, rough, and final.
No one argued.
They scrambled for the exits, some pushing past others in their rush to obey.
"Ronan, stay," Kaelion said calmly. Then turning to his wife, he added, "My queen... you may stay if you wish."
Ronan halted and returned to his seat without a word. Queen Aradelle remained seated beside Kaelion, tense but composed.
Now only five people remained in the grand hall—the king, the queen, Ronan... and the couple with the burning eyes.
Outside, maids and servants stood still as stone. Shocked. Confused. They had never seen noble lords and war generals flee like frightened children. Something was terribly wrong.
And whatever it was... it was still in that room.
"You may speak," Kaelion said, his voice cold and unforgiving. "Say whatever you have to say now... because you may not live after this."
Tymor stepped forward, unflinching. "I don't worry about my life," he said. "It is a blessing to die now. You..." he pointed slowly at Kaelion, "you'll wish you had died with us. That, I promise you."
Kaelion narrowed his eyes. "Fine then. I'll spare your life. And when the terrors of the night come in search of blood... we shall serve you up first."
"You'll wish it came only for blood," Nyra said darkly. Her voice was calm, but something about it made Ronan shiver.
"It will come for you. It will haunt you. The moment you close your eyes, they shall crawl into your dreams. And when you eventually die..." she stepped closer, "...they will haunt your soul."
There was silence. A chilling one.
"They have a message for you," she whispered. "And I bear it."
_________________________________
An hour later, Ronan emerged from the inner chamber with a blank expression. He gestured to four royal guards who stood at attention nearby.
Without a word, the guards entered. Moments later, they returned, carrying the lifeless bodies of Tymor and Nyra. Their faces were oddly peaceful. Too peaceful.
But their eyes...
Their eyes were open. Wide. And hollow.
Completely black, as if someone had carved out their souls.
Asher, who had just returned from bidding Rowenne goodbye, stopped in his tracks when he saw the guards pass by. He froze. His breath caught in his throat.
He looked at the bodies and their eyes stared back.
Empty.
For a second, just a second, it felt like the void was staring into him.
He looked away, his heart racing. The fear stuck with him like cold sweat. He hurried off without a word, chest tightening, trying to pretend he saw nothing.
_________________________________
Back in the courtroom, Kaelion sat on the throne like a man drowning in silence.
His hands were clasped tightly in front of him, but they trembled. Ronan stood across from him, waiting. Watching.
Queen Aradelle had been escorted to her chambers earlier after collapsing.
Now, the chamber was quiet again.
But the silence no longer felt like peace.
It felt like the moment before a storm.
And the storm was coming.
"Send for Lyrris," Kaelion said, his voice steady. "Tell her I demand her presence immediately."
"Yes, sire," Ronan replied, but he didn't move.
Kaelion narrowed his eyes slightly. "What is it, Sir Ronan?"
"Are you not even... afraid?" Ronan asked. "After everything that's just happened?"
Kaelion turned to him calmly. "If I let fear grip me now, then they've already won."
He began walking slowly across the room, hands behind his back. "That's how they work, Ronan. First, they plant the seed, just a whisper, a vision, a doubt. Then they feed it with fear. And once fear takes root, they control you. Not with force, not with armies. With that fear they fed. With silence."
He stopped and looked toward the door. "They succeeded with the people. And I feared they'd succeed here too. That's why I smiled."
Ronan's brows furrowed.
"Everyone who was here," Kaelion continued, "were lords, watchers, men of title, eunuchs and whisperers alike. If fear caught hold of them, it would spread like wildfire, faster than any soldier could carry a sword. That's why I sent them away."
"Maybe too late," Ronan muttered. "They did seem shaken."
"I trusted you," Kaelion said softly. "That's why I asked you to stay. As for Aradelle... it was a lost cause. If she'd left, she would've been too worried to sleep. But she is the queen. She stayed because I gave her a choice. And she chose fear."
Ronan paused. "So this was all part of their plan?"
"Every step," Kaelion confirmed. "From the moment they crossed into Eryndral to the second they stepped foot into this court."
"What about the guard who brought them in? Was he part of it too?"
Kaelion gave a bitter laugh. "Why do you think he arrested them?"
Ronan thought for a moment. "Either to stop them from spreading fear, which is noble. Or… because he's one of them, which is treacherous."
"Wrong," Kaelion said, descending the final step of the dais. "He was just afraid. Maybe more afraid than any of us. That fear drove him to silence them. That's how they controlled him."
Kaelion stood before the empty hall now, eyes scanning the walls as though they were listening.
"They planted doubt about the kingdom, about me. They wanted everyone here to question what they know, to lose faith. And in that moment of uncertainty… slip in fear."
"And Modkha?" Ronan asked.
Kaelion was silent for a moment. "They may have lied. Or worse, they may have told the truth. And if it's the latter..." he trailed off. "Then we are standing in deeper shadows than we realized."
Ronan's expression hardened. "Whoever came up with this... they're clever. And dangerous."
Kaelion nodded. "Yes. But if they need fear to gain power, perhaps they're not as strong as they seem."
He turned away, voice lower now, thoughtful. "In light of all this, the Conclave of Regents will be postponed. I'll have a sealed message sent to each regent. The identities of their heroes must remain hidden. Until we know what lurks in the dark, we trust no one."
He took a deep breath and began his slow, measured descent from the throne. His voice dropped to a near-whisper.
"I fear Eryndral is no longer safe."
He turned to Ronan. "Go now. Deliver the message to Lyrris. And no one must know."
"Yes, sire," Ronan said, already turning toward the door.
"And Ronan..."
Ronan paused.
Kaelion looked ahead, voice distant. "The boy."
Ronan turned slowly.
"Send for him."