Gladia, the first human kingdom.
While the outside world was celebrating the winners and mourning the losers. Gladiaâs kingdomâs throne room was filled with tension.
The throne room was enormous., as expected of its function and as the pride of the Gladia kingdom infrastructure.
A large golden throne sat opposite the main door raised ten staircases high. On the ceiling, a large glass chandelier cast multi coloured reflections on the white polished walls and floor.
Sitting on the throne was a man. Middle-aged, with long red messy hair dressed in golden coloured robes. Below stood a man with short dark hair, head bowed.
Around them stood more people, each dressed in different attire, but none of them had a hint of gold in their clothing in respect for the monarch.
The king leaned back, his gaze on the man standing before him.
"Yes?"
He swallowed.
"Your... majesty... we cannot locate Prince Igrad, his life signature has vanished..."
The entire room fell silent at the news delivered by the head Manipulator, Silas, who was in charge of managing the royal bloodline especially Igradâs since he had been tasked to go to the dark elven kingdom.
King Irain Neill, Igradâs father, fingers twitched when he heard the news, and he felt his heart stop for a moment. There was only one meaning.
"It is unfortunate to say but we have lost the first prince," Silas calmly said although the small shake in his hand couldnât be hidden.
With no one knowing what was going on inside the Splitting harrows they could only come up with assumptions of what had happened.
If what Silas said was true then this was an unprecedented tragedy to the kingdom. The death of Prince Igrad, the prodigy they had nurtured since childhood, would be a huge blow to the kingdom.
King Neillâs hands tightened around the arm of his throne, and cracks started to spread across it.
"How can this happen!" One of the princes, Prince Irion, shouted.
He was the second contender to the throne just below Igrad.
"He was the strongest among the candidates, didnât you say that?" He continued his question aimed at Silas who didnât glance at him.
"Iâm not sure what could have happened, your majesty, but I have confirmed his last signature was in the middle of the Spitting harrows."
The king just stared down at him, his gaze expressionless. While Gladia was a wealthy human kingdom and had more than enough Princes, Igradâs death would be a huge blow.
"Everyone leave!"
The kingâs voice boomed through the large throne room.
"But..." Prince Irion started.
His words were cut off when the king slammed his fist on the arm of the throne. This surprised him, and when he looked up at him, he flinched at how dark his expression had become.
His brows were furrowed, his lips downturn and he gritted his teeth so hard that veins appeared on his forehead.
"Your majesty..."
"Leave!"
His face became paler, and he bowed and followed the others as they left. He glanced briefly at Silas who had not left before the door closed behind him.
A small but crazy smile graced his lips the moment he was out of everyoneâs sight.
âI can finally be the crown princeâ
Unfortunately for Irion, he did not know about the assassination plans and the deal with the protector since he wasnât seen as important enough.
Behind him, the tension did not drain in the throne room, it intensified. King Neillâs expression darkened even further.
He shifted his weight on the throne and leaned slightly forward, hands clasped together.
"Tell me more," he coldly said.
Silas exhaled. "Iâm not sure who killed him, but I got word from the protector just a few minutes before informing you."
"What is it?"
"We should prepare ourselves," he quietly said.
"What?"
"Your majesty, I think we need to move somewhere safer," he instructed.
.
.
.
Cassian took a deep breath as the door opened in front of him and walked into the room, hands clenched behind his back.
No matter how many times he had come to this room, it always creeped him out. His eyes swept around the room and came to a stop in front of a large painting.
Golden eyes that seemed alive stared back at him, he averted his gaze. The owner of the eyes had long dark hair with blue highlights, a small smile, and sat on a familiar but unfamiliar throne.
What stood out in the painting was the face. It resembled Lilith, a slightly muscular and more cheerful version.
That was the former king, Lilithâs older brother.
Below the painting was a small jar, that exuded Aether, but it wasnât the pure Aether that circled around the world but Corrupted Aether.
The room smelt of death and decay.
"Ah, welcome back my son."
He bowed. "Thank you, father. "
His father sat beside the painting, arms crossed. He picked the glass containing a red liquid and took a small sip.
Cassianâs gaze never lifted.
"I hope you brought good news?"
He placed the glass down and leaned back on the chair. Cassianâs gaze lifted. He met red eyes that stared at him with both anticipation and Coldness.
His lips curved in a smirk.
"Of course, Father, " he said," I have learnt a lot about the Queenâs consort. I will be meeting with him as his friend soon."
The councillor nodded.
"Good, you must leave a good impression on her majesty." Cassianâs smile widened at the praise," Here..."
He threw a small box. Cassian swiftly caught it.
"That is your reward."
"Thank you father, " he said, his expression was almost in a state of euphoria as he brought the box to his nose and inhaled
His eyes closed, and his body shook. He lowered the box after a few inhales.
"Take that, it is a gift from the Protector."
"I will treasure it."
The man waved him away, clearly dismissing him.
"Good, make sure your majesty doesnât catch you," his father added.
"He will not," he replied smugly," he is too trusting."