The air in the throne room reeked of blood and panic.
The lifeless body of the traitorous guard lay sprawled on the floor, his throat torn open by his own hand. Blood stained the pristine marble beneath him, trailing in jagged arcs toward the steps of the throne. The king's voice boomed over the chaos, barking orders, demanding composure, but the echo of the guard's final words "I swore to my Master. I will never speak his name" lingered in everyone's minds like smoke.
Damien stood still, heart hammering, eyes fixed on the corpse. Alec was at his side, hand protectively on his shoulder, watching the council's stunned expressions. Several members couldn't even meet Damien's gaze.
Prince Caspian narrowed his eyes at the body and muttered to the king, "This isn't over."
Within the hour, the blood was being scrubbed away. But the scent of death clung to the air like a warning.
Behind closed doors, a private war council convened in the king's inner chamber. King Lucian, his face grave and furious, sat at the head of the table. Beside him were Damien, Caspian, Alec, and two trusted elder councilors Lord Merek and Lady Ayra.
"This court has been compromised," Caspian began. "If one of our guards could get so close to Damien, imagine how many more are embedded in our walls."
"We failed," Lord Merek admitted, voice low. "He served right under our noses for years. No suspicion."
Alec stepped forward. "Helena suspected him. She warned us."
King Lucian frowned, nodding. "We'll begin a complete re-evaluation of every guard. Shift patterns, access levels. Nothing remains as it is."
"There's more," said Lady Ayra, handing over a parchment. "One of our spies checked the guard's quarters. Found this carved beneath his bedpost."
Damien took the paper. It showed a circular symbol: a twisted flame, hollow in the center. His eyes narrowed.
Caspian leaned over his shoulder. "The Hollow Flame," he said grimly.
Alec frowned. "What's that?"
"An extremist group," Caspian explained. "Centuries old. Believed to be extinct. They think the royal bloodline our bloodline is cursed. Especially yours, Damien. They consider you the worst of us."
Damien clenched his fists. "Because I'm not like them."
"No," said the king. "Because you're everything they fear a prince with power and a will of his own."
Later, alone in a smaller council room, Damien paced.
"I'm the reason for all this. These attacks. This madness. I should've seen it...
Alec stood up, grabbing his hand. "You didn't choose this war. But you'll end it."
Damien looked into Alec's eyes, searching for doubt and finding none.
"You still trust me?" Damien asked softly.
"With everything," Alec replied. "Now let's make them regret coming for you."
Caspian entered, arms crossed. "Enough self-pity. You were born a prince, Damien. Now act like a damn leader."
Damien smiled bitterly. "Then it's time I gave them something to fear."
The next day, the court gathered again to discuss new strategies. But murmurs had already spread—of Damien's growing power, of the silent fire in his eyes.
The moment he entered the room, voices hushed.
He took his place by the king and stared down the long table.
One elder councilor Lord Fenric, old and suspicious rose slowly. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, perhaps it is time we reconsider the prince's advisors. Including the foreigner who shares his bed."
Alec's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
The room fell silent.
Damien stood.
The shadows cast by the high windows framed him in ominous light. His voice was cold, measured, deadly.
"If you question Alec's place beside me," he began, "you question mine."
Lord Fenric tried to reply, but Damien's next words thundered:
"I will not tolerate suspicion disguised as counsel. Alec saved my life. He protects this kingdom with the same loyalty I do. If any man here dares cast doubt on him again…" Damien's eyes flicked to the stained floor where the guard had died, "he will join the traitors beneath it."
The room froze....Even King Lucian remained silent. No one dared speak.
Damien sat down slowly, gaze smoldering.
And just like that, fear settled over the court like a second crown.
That night, a palace servant cleaning the traitor's room found a hidden compartment under the floorboard.
Inside: a sealed letter addressed only to The Whispering Blade.
It was immediately brought to the king, who examined the seal then handed it quietly to Caspian.
"I want you to handle this discreetly," Lucian said.
Caspian opened it.
Most of it was written in a coded language, but one phrase stood out clearly:
"The prince will fall before the next full moon."
Caspian brought the letter to Damien, who read it in silence.
Damien's expression hardened.
"I'm done playing defense," he whispered. .."If they want to watch me burn…"
He looked up, eyes like sharpened steel."…then I'll make them burn first."
The tension of the day lingered like smoke in the corridors, thick and suffocating. When Damien returned to his chambers, Alec was already waiting. Without a word, he took Damien's hand and led him to the royal baths hidden behind a velvet curtain. Steam rose from the marble pools, candles flickering softly on the walls.
"Sit," Alec said, his voice low but tender.
Damien obeyed, sinking into the warm water, letting the heat melt the weight off his shoulders. Alec rolled up his sleeves and knelt by the edge, gently pouring scented water over Damien's back. It was intimate, reverent.
"You need rest," Alec whispered.
"I need peace," Damien murmured. "And I don't know if I'll ever have that again."
Alec's hands stilled. "You're not cursed, Damien. You're hunted because you're powerful. Because you're next."
Damien turned his face to him, searching his eyes. "And if I fall?"
"Then they'll have to go through me first."
They stayed there, no more words, just the soft sound of water and breathing. For a moment, the world outside didn't exist.
Later that night, while the palace dimmed to sleep, Damien found himself in a shadowed corner of the old training hall. Prince Caspian stood at the center, arms crossed.
"You're late," Caspian said..."You knew I'd come?"
"I knew you'd want to fight back."
In the flickering torchlight, they trained. Caspian taught him pressure points, how to read posture, anticipate the kill before it came. A cloaked knight, silent and fast, joined them, showing Damien how to move in silence, how to counter a blade in the dark.
His body ached, but his resolve burned brighter. Alec watched from the shadows sometimes, his arms folded, his eyes unreadable. He knew Damien was preparing for something that could kill him.
The next council meeting was quieter than usual.
Damien sat straighter, his eyes sharper. He scanned every face, noting who looked nervous, who avoided his gaze.
Two council members, Lord Verdan and Lady Myra, spoke in veiled language. Talk of "cleansing" the line, of "restoring true power."
Damien said nothing. But he saw them. And they saw that he saw.
Later, Caspian cornered him in the corridor.
"We should strike now."..."Not yet. Let them think they're winning. Let them get comfortable."
"You're changing."...."I have to."
Alec wandered into the palace library, seeking silence, but found something else. An elderly woman, dressed in faded royal blue, stood at the back near the shelves of forbidden texts.
"You're him," she said. "The one he chose."
"Do I know you?"
"You knew his mother. Queen Seraphine was my friend."
Alec blinked. "She died when Damien was a child."
"She was killed. Poisoned by her own court. I never proved it. But she left something for one of her sons.. And I believe you were meant to deliver it."
She handed him a scroll wrapped in aged velvet, the seal unbroken. "It needs his blood to open."
Alec took it with shaking hands. "Why give it to me?"
"Because I don't trust anyone else."
That night, Alec returned to his chambers and found a small note on his bed. No seal, no signature. Just a whisper written in fine, angry ink:
You've made him weak. Step away or die with him.
Alec read it twice, then calmly set it on fire, watching the flames consume it. "Cowards never win."
By the time Damien returned to his room, Alec was already seated, the scroll on the table between them.
"Someone left me a threat," Alec said casually. "Also, someone gave me this. From your mother."
Damien sat slowly. "What is it?"
"We'll find out together. When you're ready."
Moments later, a knock came at the door. A knight bowed. "His Majesty requests your presence immediately, Your Highness."
Damien rose, confused but alert. Alec stood to follow.
"I'll go alone," Damien said.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's better this way."
He followed the knight through the torchlit hallways, but something gnawed at him.
Why the urgency? Why now?
The knight remained silent.
Damien's instincts flared.
As they turned a corner near the inner sanctum, Damien paused. "What did my father say to summon me? His exact words."
The knight hesitated. "He said it was... urgent. That's all."
Damien took a step back. "Take me back. Now."
The knight's eyes narrowed.
That was all Damien needed.
He moved fast, grabbing the nearest torch from the wall and thrusting it toward the knight's face. The man stumbled back, cursed, and lunged but Damien was quicker. A swift knee to the ribs, a jab to the throat. The knight crumpled.
Damien yanked off the helmet.
Not one of his father's men. He didn't even recognize him.
Footsteps thundered. Caspian arrived first, sword drawn. Alec was right behind him, breathless.
Damien stood over the impostor, chest heaving. "They're still coming."
Caspian knelt and checked the man's pockets. More cryptic symbols. A hidden dagger.
"Another one of theirs," Caspian said grimly.
Alec stepped forward, grabbing Damien's arm tightly. "You could have died."
Damien looked at them both. "Then we dig faster. And we dig deeper."