Arthur could feel the scratches on his throat where the enemy elf had grabbed him. The taste of his blood hit him hard, remember how he just escaped death.
Too close, way too close
"We should start the coronation," Hawklight said, the flames from his sword fading.
"The soldiers need to see that we're strong and united after the King's death. It's important for their morale right now."
Arthur nodded slowly but his mind was racing. The enemy elf's confidence nagged at him more than her threats. She knew way too much about the castle's defenses and his moves.
Someone is leaking information to the Coalition. Someone close to us.
"Got it," Arthur said, keeping his voice steady. "But I won't rush the coronation just to seem desperate. I need to check on someone first."
[ALERT: Emotional stress detected] [RECOMMENDATION: Energy restoration advised] [CURRENT ENERGY: 195/300]
Sylrathi stepped closer, her earlier reluctance forgotten. "Your Highness, should I come with you—"
"No." Arthur's tone was firm. "Stay with Hawklight. Coordinate our defenses and find out how she got through our wards. I need to handle this myself."
His tone caused both heroes to step back. The weak prince they thought they knew was turning into someone much stronger.
As Arthur moved through the quiet infirmary wing, he hardly noticed the guards standing at attention. He sensed effects of healing magic mixed with the smell of illness.
Gareth's in there, broken and helpless. How quickly the mighty can fall.
The heavy door to his half-brother's room was slightly open. Arthur pushed it open.
Gareth lay still on the bed, his once-strong body now frail. The magical breakdown had aged him quickly—his dark hair had gray streaks and his face looked sunken. The arrogant prince who had once challenged Arthur had been replaced by this shell of a man.
Princess Lysandra sat beside the bed, looking worn down. Dark circles under her blue eyes showed she hadn't slept much. She glanced up as Arthur entered, a mix of relief and caution in her expression.
[ABILITY ACTIVATED: Emotional Sensing] [TARGET: Princess Lysandra Silvermoor] [RESULTS: Grief 70%, Relief 40%, Concern 85%, Attraction 25%] [ENERGY COST: -10 points] [REMAINING ENERGY: 185/300]
"Your Highness," she began, rising from her seat.
"Forget the formalities, Lysandra." Arthur stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her seated. The touch was warm and reassuring. "How's he doing?"
"He's stable, but..." She gestured toward Gareth. "The healers say his magical pathways might never fully recover. Even if he wakes up, he won't be the same.
Arthur looked at Gareth, no longer seeing the arrogant rival but a young man who had risked everything on enhancement drugs and lost. Family, despite their conflicts.
"He made his choices," Arthur said quietly, regret in his voice. "But he didn't deserve this. No one should have their essence torn apart."
Lysandra seemed surprised by his honesty, looking at him as if seeing him for the first time. "You really mean that. After everything—his assassination attempts, the games—you still care."
"Family is complicated." Arthur gently cupped her cheek, brushing away a tear she hadn't noticed. "But family still matters. If it doesn't, we're no better than the animals trying to tear our kingdom apart."
Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her softly. It was a tender moment amidst all the chaos. He felt her initial surprise turn to acceptance as she relaxed against him.
[ENERGY HARVEST: Emotional intimacy] [INTIMATE ENERGY CAPTURED: +15 points] [TOTAL ENERGY: 200/300] [BOND DEVELOPMENT: Lysandra Silvermoor - 40% → 45%]
When they pulled apart, Lysandra's cheeks were flushed, making her look younger and vulnerable. "Arthur, I—"
The door creaked open, interrupting them. Royal Healer Aldwin entered with a tray of medical supplies, looking tired. His expression changed when he saw Arthur—was that fear? Guilt?
Interesting.
"Your Royal Highness," Aldwin bowed awkwardly. "I was just checking on Prince Gareth."
Arthur noticed how nervous the healer seemed—his heart was racing, his breathing was shallow, and he couldn't meet Arthur's gaze. After weeks of practice, Arthur could tell he was hiding something.
[ALERT: Deception detected] [TARGET: Royal Healer Aldwin] [CONFIDENCE: 85%]
[RECOMMENDATION: Investigate further]
"Convenient timing," Arthur said casually, straightening up. "I have questions about my father's death."
Aldwin tightened his grip on the tray, the metal instruments clinking. "Of course, Your Highness. But I can only share what I reported to the royal council."
"Humor me." Arthur's tone sharpened. "Tell me what happened when you examined the king's body."
The room felt colder. Lysandra sensed the tension but didn't know why.
"The symptoms were unlike anything I had encountered before," Aldwin stammered, setting down the tray with shaky hands.
"The soul-drain poison bypassed our magical defenses, attacking His Majesty's essence directly. It was the most cunning magic I've ever seen."
Arthur circled the healer, moving deliberately. "That's interesting. Because the Seven Heroes, who have faced soul-drain poison, said it leaves a clear magical signature—something someone like you should know."
Aldwin's face went pale, sweat beading on his forehead. "Your Highness, I don't understand what you're implying—"
"I'm not implying anything." Arthur stopped in front of him, his amber-green eyes boring into the older man. "You recognized what killed my father the moment you saw his body. The real question is: did you know because you were clueless, or because you were expecting it?"
Heavy footsteps approached, and Hawklight entered the doorway, looking grim. "My Lord, I have a report on the interrogation of—"
Without hesitation, Arthur spun toward Hawklight and drew the hero's flamestrike sword. The weapon ignited instantly in his hands, flames eager to align with his magic.
Hawklight's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and respect. Few could wield another's bonded weapon, particularly one as powerful as his. Arthur's ability to draw it and make it respond showed his growth.
Arthur turned back to Aldwin, the fiery blade now aimed at the healer's throat. The old man grew ashen, sweat pooling on his brow.
"You're going to bleed just like anyone else," Arthur said, his voice icy enough to make Lysandra gasp and step back. "No matter what promises were made to you."
"Please," Aldwin whispered, barely audible. "I never wanted—"
"Even if my father was the one who asked you to betray him," Arthur pressed, flames licking the blade, "your answer should have been no. A healer's oath should still mean something."
Before Aldwin could say another word, he collapsed, blood pooling on the floor. Arthur wiped the blade clean on the dead man's robes and handed it back to a stunned Hawklight.
"Your Highness," Lysandra breathed, staring at the lifeless body.
Arthur met her gaze, and in his eyes, she saw something both terrifying and magnificent—the cold calculation of a ruler willing to do whatever it takes to protect what's his.
"Some betrayals can't be forgiven, especially when they cost innocent lives." He started toward the door, pausing without looking back.
"Hawklight, don't follow me. Some conversations need to be private."
The hero nodded slowly, still processing what had just happened. The prince was evolving into someone much more dangerous than anyone had foreseen.