The silence in the room thickened, coiled like smoke.
Kasri lay on the ground, breath ragged beneath the weight of the masked figure. Then the pressure eased, and the stranger rose fluidly, standing tall before the king.
"Rise," King Heimdal commanded. Kasri struggled to get up as his hands were bound by a rope. The more he tried to untie it, the tighter it beca.
Heimdal remained still, one hand resting over the subtle ache in his chest, the other gripping the hilt of a ceremonial dagger hidden beneath his robe. His eyes never left Kasri.
"Why did you return? Aren’t you scared of the consequence?" the king finally said to the black clad man before him.
"If I hadn’t co, then wouldn’t you beco a corpse?" He snickered. "What do you intend to do with him?" He gestured to the man who had just stood.
"What else? He attempted to murder the king and set fires within the palace." The king paused and scanned the man from head to toe. "He impersonated the first prince to commit these cris."
"Father." The man in black bowed his head and respectfully called out to the king.
Kasri’s eyes behind his mask widened. "Prince Alaric?"
Alaric did not spare him a glance. His full focus was on the king. "He saved my life once. And I saved your life today. I am asking, Father, to let him go this once and let him find the truth himself."
He approached King Heimdal and spoke the words that only the king heard. "Then you will have an indispensable ally."
Prince Alaric took off his mask and faced Kasri. "Go to the duchy of Greenshire. There, you will find what you are seeking. But before that, withdraw your n from the capital and clear my na."
King Heimdal was surprised. How did Prince Alaric know the masked man? It seed that they had known each other for a long ti.
Alaric raised his sword and cut the rope that bound Kasri’s hands.
"Go!" The king’s word was a command—and a permission.
Kasri moved, vanishing as swiftly as he had arrived—only a whisper of cloth and a fleeting shadow escaping through the window.
Alaric followed.
"Wait!" But Heimdal’s word was too late. Alaric was also gone, swallowed by the night.
Later that night, in the castle of the Duke of Greenshire
The corridors were dark and abandoned. Kasri silently walked through them, sword in hand. His mask was gone. His scarred face, for once, bare—gripped by uncertainty and grim resolve.
The guards and the servants had been drugged and unconscious. Only one man remained conscious in this wing now.
Duke Caspian.
Kasri paused before the heavy door. His fingers hovered over the handle.
He did not knock.
He kicked it open.
The duke was at his desk, dressed in a velvet robe the color of old blood. A half-filled goblet of dark wine trembled slightly as the door struck the stone wall. The man looked up, startled—but only for a second.
"Kasri," he said, smoothing his expression. "So. The storm has found its way ho. It could only an one thing. You failed to kill the king, and he let you go."
"You lied to ," Kasri said coldly.
Caspian stood, slowly. "I gave you truth when you had none."
"You gave poison," Kasri snapped. "You turned into a weapon, aid at your own cousin."
"You’re wrong." Caspian raised a hand, voice calm, slippery. "I liberated you. I gave you purpose, shaped your fury into sothing glorious. I made you strong. You were born from sha. I gave that sha aning."
"You slept with a servant. Lied to her. Let her raise in the shadow of a man who never touched her. You let grow up believing I was a king’s bastard."
"Would it have been better if I’d told you the truth?" Caspian hissed. "That your mother ant nothing to ? That you were just a consequence of one of my gas? I spared you that pain. Gave you a legend instead of a life."
"Your title, your wealth, do you think it was from your stepfather?" Duke Caspian downed the wine in his glass. "It was from , Kasri."
Kasri’s knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword. "You gave rage. Fed with half-truths. Your kindness is cruel, Duke Caspian."
Caspian took a step forward, eyes glinting. "And yet you stand there, weapon in hand. The man I raised you to be. Don’t pretend you ca here only for the truth. You ca here to finish it."
Kasri didn’t move. His sword remained lowered. "You are not worth killing."
The words landed like a slap. Caspian flinched.
"You—"
"I should have seen it," Kasri said quietly. "When you pulled out of the ruins. The way you’d speak of King Heimdal with venom behind closed doors. The way you praised my mother which made hate my supposed father even more. You envied him. Everything you did—was about him. You think you can defeat him, but you are nothing compared to the king."
Caspian’s face darkened. His mouth opened—but no words ca. He knew that King Heimdal had already learned of his sches when Kasri entered his study. There was only one end for him. He will be reduced to a commoner or execution.
A sudden tightness gripped his heart. He staggered backward, one hand clutching at his chest.
Kasri narrowed his eyes, confused.
Caspian gasped, collapsing into the chair behind him. His wine spilled, crimson staining the docunts on his desk. His other hand clawed the edge of the wood, eyes wide with panic.
"No..." he rasped. "No, not like this—Help . Call the doctor."
Kasri stepped forward, but did not move to help. He watched. Silent.
"You... ungrateful..." Caspian coughed violently. "I made you..."
His voice crumbled into a wet, choking sound. His body jerked once—then slumped.
His hand slid from the desk. The wine dripped onto the floor. The duke’s head lolled, his mouth frozen in half-ford scorn.
The room was silent.
Kasri stood still, a cold numbness blooming inside him. There was no triumph in his eyes. No relief. Only the quiet devastation of a man whose enemy had already died.
It was the heavens that punished his sins. Perhaps, God did not want him to stain the sword with his father’s blood.
Later that night
The moon hung above the bamboo forest behind a quaint cottage, pale and watchful.
Kasri stood beside a small pond that looked silver under the moonlight. His mask lay beside him, abandoned.
A gentle rustle behind him.
"You didn’t kill him," Alaric said, stepping from the shadows. Another shadow joined him.
"He killed himself," Kasri replied, staring into the water.
Alaric nodded slowly.
"Your mother..." Orion began.
"Let her rest," Kasri interrupted.
There was a long pause.
"And what will you be now, Kasri? Duke Caspian didn’t have a son from the Duchess." Orion asked.
Kasri looked toward the horizon. The sky was beginning to pale with the first hint of dawn.
"The rchant of Cavinta," Kasri said.
Reviews
All reviews (0)