The great halls of the palace buzzed with a new kind of silence one laced with unspoken tension and quiet disbelief. Servants exchanged wary glances. Nobles gossiped in hushed tones behind gilded fans and jeweled goblets. Seraphina's scandal had rippled through every corner of the kingdom, shaking the foundation of what many assumed was an unshakable crown.
"Did you hear what she said about the prince?" whispered a young maid to her friend near the stables.
"They say she ran out half-dressed, screaming lies about His Highness."
"And that he didn't even flinch. Just stood there and ordered her banished."
Inside the throne room, King Lucian rose from his seat, his face grim. Council members fell silent.
"Let it be known," he declared, his voice echoing with finality, "that the throne will not tolerate scandal nor deceit. Seraphina of House Halden is henceforth stripped of any claims or standing within the realm."
A few nobles shifted uncomfortably. Others nodded with silent approval.
Damien stood off to the side, calm but calculating. He knew the humiliation of Seraphina would send a clear message to the other houses. This wasn't a game, and he wasn't a man to be toyed with.
Prince Caspian stood beside him, watching the reactions of the court. He leaned in slightly. "You've made more enemies today."
"Let them come," Damien said coldly. "The crown is not for the weak."
Later that day, as the palace tried to resume a sense of normalcy, a rider arrived at the gates with an envelope sealed in black wax. It bore no crest, no signature. Just a short inscription: "For the eyes of the crown alone."
Within the war chamber, Damien, Caspian, and King Lucian gathered to open it.
Caspian unfolded the parchment, reading aloud:
"The blade is drawn, the game begins,
A traitor dines among your kin."
Lucian frowned. "A threat? Or a warning?"
"Both," Damien replied.
"The timing is no coincidence," Caspian added. "Someone's trying to unsettle us just as we regain control."
Damien took the letter and studied it. "The ink is fresh. Whoever sent this is inside the kingdom. Possibly the palace."
Alec, quiet at the far end of the room, stepped forward. "The handwriting… it looks similar to the coded messages I found in the council member's study."
Lucian arched a brow. "You believe there's another traitor?"
Alec nodded. "I do. And I think they're growing bold."
That evening, Damien and Alec walked through the eastern wing of the palace garden.
"They're getting personal now," Alec said. "And if someone in the council truly is leaking information… we may be in more danger than we know."
Damien's eyes narrowed as he stopped near a marble fountain. "I won't let them touch you, Alec. Not while I breathe."
Alec looked up at him. "It's not just me I'm worried about. What if they already know? About us?"
Damien stepped closer, brushing his fingers along Alec's hand. "Then let them watch. Let them whisper. I'm done hiding."
Their gaze held for a long moment, but before Alec could say anything more, a steward approached.
"My lords, gifts have arrived from the House of Valeburn. They include a portrait of their eldest daughter."
Damien raised a brow. "Burn them."
The steward blinked. "My lord?"
"Burn everything. I'm not accepting suitors like I'm a market prize."
Alec smiled faintly. "That will cause a stir."
"Good," Damien muttered.
But the stir was only just beginning. The next morning, nobles began arriving at the palace uninvited, but eager. Some came with their daughters. Others with thinly veiled propositions. Damien rejected them all.
King Lucian watched the circus unfold with tired eyes.
"You may want to reconsider," he warned Damien during their private meeting. "The nobles are growing restless."
"Let them grow," Damien replied. "Then I'll cut them down."
Lucian chuckled dryly. "You sound more like me every day."
That night, beneath the western tower, Lucian, Damien, and Caspian gathered again. The old vault had not been opened in decades.
Inside were rows of scrolls, tomes, and ancient relics. Caspian found the royal logbook and flipped through the brittle pages.
He paused, reading aloud a final passage from a page burned around the edges:
"If the heir bears both flame and frost, the realm shall burn before it bows."
Lucian leaned in. "Flame and frost… what does it mean?"
Damien stared at the words, silent.
Caspian looked between them. "What if the war we're preparing for isn't just of blades and banners? What if it's within the bloodline itself?"
No one spoke.
Outside, the winds howled against the palace walls. Inside, three rulers stood surrounded by dust and prophecy, uncertain if the real enemy had already stepped inside their gate.
The throne room stood quiet and somber after the incident. The air was heavy, still carrying traces of the tension left behind. The rumors about Damien's alleged impotence had been forcefully silenced, and Seraphina's disgrace had spread like wildfire across the kingdom. Her departure hadn't cleansed the court of chaos, but it had created breathing space.
King Lucian called for a day of silence to honor the dignity of the royal house. No guests. No council. No unnecessary noise.
It was a moment Damien needed.
Later that evening, as the palace dimmed into a soft glow, Damien walked alone through the marble corridors. His boots echoed in the halls as if announcing the weight of the crown that seemed to hover just above his head.
At the edge of the west wing, near the private towers, Damien found Alec sitting on the stone ledge of a tall window, reading a scroll with furrowed brows. He looked up as Damien entered, his gaze softening.
"You look like you've just survived a battlefield," Alec said gently.
"Haven't I?" Damien replied with a tired smile.
Alec folded the scroll and set it aside. Damien walked toward him and stopped just inches away. "I needed to see you. Alone. Without the whispers, the eyes, the weight."
Alec's breath hitched, and his gaze shifted to Damien's lips for the briefest second. "You've seen me every day."
"Not like this. Not without pretending it's just duty."
Silence lingered between them like a magnetic pull. Damien reached out and touched Alec's face with a trembling hand, tracing the line of his jaw with his thumb. "I don't want to pretend anymore."
Alec leaned into the touch, his voice a whisper. "Then don't."
Without another word, Damien closed the distance and kissed him. It started soft uncertain, searching but quickly deepened as Alec gripped Damien's waist and pulled him closer. The kiss turned hungry, desperate, as weeks of longing, restraint, and silence finally gave way.
Damien pushed Alec gently against the window ledge, his hands traveling along Alec's back, exploring. Alec gasped into his mouth, his fingers tangled in Damien's hair.
"Are you sure?" Alec whispered.
"I've never been more certain."
They fumbled toward Damien's private chamber, hands never separating. Clothes fell in quiet abandon. Tunics first, then boots, then layers of silk and armor, until they stood bare in the candlelight, shadows dancing across their skin.
Damien kissed down Alec's neck, his mouth leaving trails of fire along his collarbone. Alec moaned softly, his hands exploring every inch of Damien's body like a man memorizing scripture.
They fell into the bed, tangled and breathless.
"I want to feel everything," Damien whispered into Alec's ear.
"You will," Alec replied, pulling him down into another kiss.
Their movements were slow at first, reverent. Damien explored Alec with a kind of awe, marveling at the way he responded to every touch, every caress. Their bodies moved in rhythm, like waves against a steady shore urgent but not rushed, tender but intense.
Damien's breath hitched when Alec arched beneath him, clutching at his shoulders.
"Damien... please..."
That one word his name, spoken in that voice broke something open inside him. He buried his face in Alec's neck as they moved together, a perfect rhythm of need and devotion. Every sound Alec made sent fire through Damien's veins.
They clung to each other, not just in passion but in fear, in hope, in everything unspoken. When the moment finally peaked, it was with a desperate gasp and trembling limbs. Damien collapsed against Alec's chest, heart pounding.
For a long while, they lay there in silence, wrapped in each other's arms, skin against skin.
"I've wanted this," Damien murmured. "You. All of this."
Alec's fingers brushed through Damien's hair. "You've had me since the beginning. I was just waiting for you to admit it."
Damien lifted his head, meeting Alec's eyes. "I can't be public about this. Not yet. The kingdom isn't ready. I'm not ready."
Alec nodded. "I know. We'll take it one step at a time."
Damien traced his fingers along Alec's chest, then leaned in and kissed him again slower this time, filled with promise. "Will you be mine? Even if no one else knows it yet?"
Alec's smile was warm, patient, and true. "I already am."
They lay together in the flickering candlelight, hearts calmer, futures still uncertain, but a bond between them now forged deeper than titles or blood.
Outside the window, the wind carried whispers across the palace roofs, but inside Damien's chamber, there was peace for the first time in weeks.
The prince had chosen his anchor.
And he would fight to protect it at all costs.