Chapter 4 Blood in the Shadows

The days that followed were a whirlwind for Kael.

He was dressed in royal robes, taught how to walk like a noble, how to eat with silver cutlery, how to bow without stumbling. He was given his own steward, his own chamberlain, even a chamber boy who addressed him as "my lord."

But not everyone in the palace welcomed him.

Many noble families whispered as he passed, their eyes sharp, their mouths tighter than secrets. He was the forest boy who had risen too high, too fast. And worse - he was loved by the king, favored by the princess, and quickly becoming a threat to those who once dreamed of power.

Especially Lord Malric, the king's cousin.

Malric had long harbored dreams of his son marrying Liora. With the prince gone missing for years and no male heir in sight, he had positioned his lineage as the natural successors.

But now, Kael had upset everything.

"An orphan. An outsider," Malric spat behind closed doors. "He's not worthy to polish my boots, let alone touch the crown."

"He has the people," his advisor murmured. "He saved the princess. Eldoria sings his name."

Malric slammed a goblet against the wall. "Then we must silence that song."

Kael, meanwhile, was beginning to feel the weight of royalty.

Each day began with sword training under Sir Derren, the palace's swordmaster.

"Again," Derren barked, as Kael blocked, stumbled, then lunged forward.

"Too wild! A king must never flail. Control, Kael. Precision. Poise."

Kael wiped sweat from his brow. "I was never trained for this."

"You are now," Derren replied, tossing him a towel.

The lessons weren't just physical. Kael sat through endless sessions of history, diplomacy, etiquette. How to bow to a duke, how to address a chancellor, how to recognize a poison in your wine.

"Is that common?" he had asked once.

The tutor had looked at him without blinking. "Too common."

Despite the pressure, Kael's bond with Princess Liora grew deeper.

They took walks in the garden, shared laughter beneath the moonlit arches. She told him stories of her childhood, of the secret passageways under the palace, of her dreams beyond the walls.

Kael, in turn, told her about the forest-the way light filtered through the trees, the sound of deer at dawn, the loneliness of having no name and no past.

"You have one now," she whispered once, touching his hand.

But peace in Eldoria never lasted long.

It began with a scream.

A servant found one of the palace guards lying in a hallway-throat slashed, blood pooling beneath him. On the wall behind him, scrawled in red, was a single word:

"TRAITOR."

The king summoned his court immediately.

"Who would dare spill blood in my house?" he thundered, his voice echoing through the throne room.

The nobles murmured among themselves. Some looked toward Kael.

"We must increase patrols," said Commander Brynn. "Search every wing, every hall, every shadow."

But Lord Malric stepped forward.

"There is another solution," he said calmly. "Bring in the High Seer. Let her read the blood and smoke. Let the spirits reveal the traitor."

The king hesitated. "That kind of magic is forbidden in the palace."

"So is murder," Malric replied.

After a long silence, King Aldred nodded. "Summon the Seer."

That night, the High Seer arrived.

Draped in midnight-blue robes, with silver tattoos that glowed faintly under torchlight, the Seer stepped into the Great Hall. Her eyes were blindfolded, yet she walked with certainty, like she could see deeper than anyone else.

She knelt beside the corpse, touched the blood with a pale finger, and whispered a chant in a language Kael didn't know.

Then she turned.

And pointed directly at him.

Gasps filled the hall.

Kael stood frozen. "No... I didn't-"

But the Seer spoke. "There is blood on his path. But not of guilt. Of fate."

The room fell silent.

"What does that mean?" the Queen asked coldly.

The Seer turned toward her. "The blood that stains this one's feet is not from betrayal-but from destiny. His presence here... shifts the balance."

"Is he a threat?" the king asked.

The Seer's blindfolded eyes turned toward Kael once more.

"A storm follows him."

Then, as suddenly as she had come, she left.

That night, Kael couldn't sleep.

He stood by his window, staring at the stars, wondering what storm the Seer had seen in him. Wondering if he'd ever be more than a lost boy pretending to be royalty.

A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.

It was Liora.

"I heard what happened," she said gently.

Kael gave a tired smile. "Apparently I bring storms."

She walked up beside him. "Maybe. But sometimes storms wash away what needs to go."

He looked at her, surprised. "You don't think I'm the traitor?"

She shook her head. "No. But someone wants you to look like one."

He nodded slowly. "Malric."

"Maybe," she said. "Or maybe someone even closer."

As they stood together beneath the stars, shadows moved in the corners of the palace. Plans were being made. Knives were being sharpened.

And far beneath the palace-in the same cave where Liora had been kept-a pair of dark eyes opened.

The men who had lost their prize had not forgotten.

And they were coming back for her.