The scandal Seraphina left behind still lingered in the corners of the palace like an unwelcome ghost. Whispers danced through the hallways, but they were softer now, weighted by fear rather than curiosity. No one dared speak too loudly, not after seeing how swiftly Prince Damien crushed dishonor. Guards stood straighter. Servants moved with hushed reverence. The palace was quiet unnervingly so.
Damien moved through the corridor like a shadow in human form, cold, unreadable, yet always in control. Alec walked beside him, keeping his pace light, eyes scanning the marble walls, though his mind was far from the conversation. The scroll burned in his thoughts like a brand. It had been days since he received it from the late Queen's maid, and yet it sat unopened in his chamber, sealed and heavy with unanswered questions.
They stepped out into the morning sunlit courtyard. Caspian was already there, leaning against the balustrade, looking like he'd been lost in thought for hours. He straightened when he saw them.
"You two look like ghosts," Caspian said, forcing a smirk. "A little sunshine might unfreeze your faces."
Damien didn't respond. Alec chuckled lightly but it was hollow. He couldn't bring himself to relax, not with that scroll hidden beneath his floorboard.
That night, when the palace was still and the guards rotated posts, Alec slipped out from his room and made his way toward the old archives. He moved like a phantom, hugging the shadows, heart thudding as he reached the ancient door and slipped inside.
The smell of dust and parchment enveloped him. He lit a candle and set it on the table. Bookshelves groaned under centuries of forgotten knowledge. He searched, fingers running over cracked spines and faded lettering. Then, finally, he found it.
A worn journal referencing the royal cipher a coded language used only by the direct descendants of Queen's bloodline. The passage was clear: "Only in the presence of her blood will the truth of her final words be revealed."
Alec exhaled slowly. Royal blood. Damien or Caspian. The scroll would remain a mystery until he involved them both.
The next morning, Damien and Caspian walked through the royal gardens alone. The dew still clung to the petals, and the air smelled of lilies and rain.
"She used to sit right there," Caspian said, pointing to a stone bench near the fountain. "Every morning with her tea. She'd pull us into her lap and hum."
Damien nodded faintly but said nothing.
"I don't think she died of illness," Caspian said. "It never made sense. She was fine one day, gone the next. No one really explained it."
"We were children," Damien replied stiffly. "We were told what we needed to hear."
"Were we? Or were we protected from the truth?"
Before Damien could answer, Alec appeared, walking toward them with purpose. Damien immediately noticed the tension in his eyes.
"Can I speak with both of you? In private," Alec said, voice low.
The brothers exchanged a glance. Caspian shrugged. Damien gave a small nod.
Inside the private study, Alec closed the door behind them.
"What is it?" Damien asked, arms folded.
Alec looked at both men. "A few days ago, someone loyal to your mother gave me something. She said it was meant for me, but only to be shared with you when the time was right."
He reached into his coat and pulled out the scroll, still wrapped in dark velvet. He set it on the table between them.
Damien and Caspian stared at it.
"What is it?" Caspian asked.
"I believe it contains truths your mother wanted hidden until the right moment. But it can only be read by your blood."
Damien narrowed his eyes. "You believe or you know?"
"I found references in the royal archives.late Queen's encoded messages in a cipher that only responds to the presence of her bloodline."
Silence fell over the room.
"And you think this scroll... contains what?"
"Answers," Alec said. "Maybe even the truth about her death."
Damien looked at the scroll, jaw tightening. Caspian looked visibly shaken.
"Not here," Damien said. "We open it where no eyes can see."
That night, Alec sat in his room, the scroll placed carefully on his desk. The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows on the walls. He leaned forward, hands clasped under his chin, eyes locked on the velvet wrapping.
"Soon," he whispered, "we'll know the truth."
Unbeknownst to him, beyond the garden walls, hidden behind the thick foliage and iron gat
es, an unseen figure stood in the darkness.
Watching.
Waiting.
And listening.
Alec paced quietly around his chambers, the scroll placed delicately on his desk. The hour was late, the moon hanging high over the palace towers. He glanced at the flickering candlelight and then toward the door.
A soft knock.
He opened it quickly. Damien stepped in first, dressed in dark silk robes, his expression unreadable. Caspian followed, more nervous than usual, his eyes flicking toward the desk.
"Is this about the scroll?" Damien asked, closing the door behind them.
Alec nodded. "It reacts to royal blood. But only one of you can unlock it."
Caspian stepped forward, unsure. "Let me try."
He took the small dagger Alec offered and pricked his finger. A drop of blood fell onto the aged parchment. Nothing happened.
Silence fell.
Damien narrowed his eyes. Alec didn't say a word. He simply offered the dagger again.
Damien hesitated for a moment, then took the blade. He sliced across his palm with practiced ease and allowed his blood to drip onto the scroll.
A breathless second passed then, with a faint shimmer, the scroll began to shift. The parchment pulsed with a dull golden glow, and faded ink began to rise and form letters across the page.
All three leaned in.
Lines of ancient writing filled the parchment. Alec slowly translated.
"To my sons, if this reaches you, then I have already gone to my grave. I was not taken by illness, as they would have you believe. I was poisoned. The pain was slow, and my silence deliberate. I had to protect you both."
Caspian gasped softly, taking a step back. Damien's fists clenched.
Alec continued, voice shaking slightly. "The poison came from a rare root, found only in the North Marsh. Someone with access to the council chambers administered it. I suspected... but I dared not speak."
A painful silence lingered.
"She knew," Caspian murmured. "She knew and stayed quiet to keep us safe."
Damien stared at the scroll, his jaw tight. "And the traitor walked free all this time."
Alec read further: "Beware the Hollow Flame. They are not extinct. The rot remains. If you are reading this, danger still lingers. Trust no councilman blindly. My death was the beginning of a plan that must not come to pass."
He paused, breath caught.
"The Hollow Flame... that's not just a myth?" Caspian whispered.
"Apparently not," Alec said. "Your mother feared them."
Damien's voice was low and dangerous. "Then we find every member of the High Council who served during her time. We dig into their pasts."
Alec watched him. There was pain behind Damien's anger, carefully hidden. Caspian simply sat down, stunned, his fingers trembling.
"We'll keep this secret for now," Damien said. "Not even my father can know yet. Not until we have proof."
Alec nodded and folded the scroll carefully. "I'll hide it. Securely."
The fire crackled beside them. For a moment, none of them spoke. The truth had left its mark.
Caspian finally stood. "She died when we were only boys... I never thought it would come back to us like this."
Damien walked over and rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We'll get justice. For her. I swear it."
Suddenly, a soft creak echoed outside Alec's chamber.
The three of them froze.
Damien swiftly moved to the door and yanked it open.
No one was there.
Just the hallway... still and silent. But on the wall beside the door, faintly etched, was a sigil Alec recognized immediately. A flame, split in two, curled inward like a serpent devouring itself.
The Hollow Flame.
Alec and Caspian came to the door.
"Someone knows," Alec whispered.
Damien's eyes narrowed, his voice cold. "Then we'll move faster. Because next time, we won't wait for them to strike."
He turned away, cloak trailing behind him.
Back inside, Alec shut the door slowly, but not before glancing once more at the sigil.
The enemy was closer than they had ever imagined.