The morning sun cast golden streaks through the palace corridors, but despite its warmth, an undeniable tension filled the air. Something was shifting within the court—an invisible current of unease that even the servants could sense.
Alina moved carefully through the halls, balancing a tray of freshly prepared tea. Ever since her last encounter with Prince Sheen, she had found herself unable to shake the lingering weight of their exchange. His words, his presence, his unreadable gaze—it all remained with her like an ink stain she could not wash away.
But today, she would see a different side of him.
The western courtyard was unusually empty, save for a cluster of armoured guards standing in rigid formation near the steps of the pavilion. Their hands rested on the hilts of their swords, their expressions carefully masked. Before them stood Prince Sheen, his dark robes fluttering slightly in the morning breeze.
Alina paused in the shadows of an archway. She hadn't intended to stop, but something about the way the scene unfolded before her made her hesitate.
The prince was speaking, his tone low but firm. Though she couldn't hear every word, the weight of his presence alone commanded attention.
One of the men before him, a high-ranking officer clads in iron-trimmed armour, knelt suddenly, bowing deeply.
"My lord, the order—" the officer began, his voice tense, uncertain.
"The order stands," Sheen interrupted coolly.
A murmur rippled through the ranks. Another official stepped forward hesitantly. "Your Highness, if we proceed, there will be unrest. The noble families—"
Sheen's gaze sharpened. "The noble families have long mistaken my patience for weakness. That ends today."
Silence.
The prince took a slow step forward, his posture unwavering. "I will not tolerate disloyalty," he continued, his voice edged with finality. "If they dare to conspire against the imperial throne, then they have sealed their own fate."
Alina's fingers tightened around the tray in her hands. There was no hesitation in his words. No room for doubt.
Another officer spoke up, his voice edged with concern. "Your Highness, what of the families? The children? If we—"
"Their fathers have chosen this path," Sheen said coldly. "And they will face the consequences."
Alina's breath caught.
Was this truly the same man she had seen in the quiet of the night, worn and unguarded? The same man whose fingers had trembled against the balcony railing?
Because standing before her now was not a burdened prince.
This was a man who issued commands with unwavering ruthlessness, who decided the fate of men without a flicker of doubt.
A monster dressed in silk and shadow.
The kneeling officer exhaled slowly, his head still bowed. "As you command, Your Highness."
Prince Sheen did not move, his gaze steady, unreadable. "See it done."
The officers stood, bowing before they turned on their heels and departed, their armour clanking softly as they disappeared down the corridor. Only once they were gone did the prince finally exhale, his expression betraying the faintest flicker of something beneath the surface.
Regret? Or merely exhaustion?
Alina did not know.
She forced herself to move, turning sharply before she could be seen. The tea in her tray had long gone cold, but she hardly noticed.
The whispers of the court had painted the prince in many colours—cursed, dangerous, unfit to rule. She had told herself that she saw something different, that beneath his silence and isolation, there was something worth understanding.
But now, she wasn't sure anymore.
Because today, she had glimpsed the man who would one day rule an empire.
And he had shown no mercy.