✧══════════════════════✧Chapter FiveThe Silence He Chooses 🌙
1316 Words
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The doors of the throne chamber slowly closed behind them.
Thud...
The sound echoed softly through the long corridor of the Imperial Palace.
Prince Zyren Thoren did not stop.
Nor did he look back.
Tap...
Tap...
Tap...
His footsteps remained steady beneath the towering stone arches.
Golden chandeliers hung high above, their flames flickering softly.
Large windows lined the palace walls.
Warm afternoon sunlight poured inside.
Golden.
Gentle.
Beautiful.
Yet none of that warmth reached him.
His face remained expressionless.
His crimson eyes stared ahead.
Calm.
Empty.
Unreadable.
A few steps behind—
Theon Falan followed quietly.
He did not ask anything.
Because he already knew.
The emperor's words had not surprised him.
They never did.
The same scene had repeated for years.
Prince Nathan would receive praise.
Prince Zyren would receive warnings.
And Zyren...
Would silently accept everything.
Theon's gaze slowly softened.
He looked at the young man walking before him.
And suddenly—
Old memories returned.
A small child.
Barely ten years old.
Curled tightly beneath blankets during thunderstorms.
Tiny hands clutching his sleeves desperately.
Eyes swollen from crying.
"Brother Theon..."
"I'm scared..."
Theon remembered those trembling words clearly.
Because on that day—
Zyren had lost his mother.
And with her—
He had lost the warmth of his childhood.
The boy who once cried every night...
Had now become—
The man feared throughout kingdoms.
The War Monster.
Yet Theon knew.
Better than anyone.
Behind those cold crimson eyes—
There was loneliness.
A loneliness so deep...
That Zyren himself no longer spoke about it.
The prince suddenly turned a corner.
Theon blinked.
Then smiled faintly.
Of course.
There was only one place Zyren always went after difficult days.
✧ The Royal Knights' Residence ✧
The building stood beside the inner courtyard.
Simple.
Peaceful.
Far less luxurious than a prince's residence.
Gray stones.
Wooden balconies.
Flower pots hanging near windows.
The scent of fresh tea drifting softly through the air.
Most importantly—
No one here feared him.
No one called him cursed.
No one stared at his birthmark.
No whispers followed his footsteps.
From inside—
Laughter echoed loudly.
Someone shouted.
Someone argued.
And—
Someone was snoring loudly.
"Pffff..."
Theon laughed softly.
Some things truly never changed. 🤭
Several knights immediately noticed them.
They straightened.
"Your Highness!"
"Sir Theon!"
Zyren gave no reply.
As always.
But none of them minded.
They were used to his silence.
Theon smiled warmly.
"How is training?"
One knight scratched his head awkwardly.
"Still getting beaten by Sir Milo."
The surrounding soldiers burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Again?"
"That makes fifteen times this week!"
The young knight lowered his head sadly.
"Please stop counting..." 😭
Even Theon laughed.
The atmosphere was warm.
Relaxed.
Peaceful.
Meanwhile—
Zyren continued walking.
Straight toward a familiar room.
Without knocking—
He pushed the door open.
Creeeak...
And entered.
The room was...
A disaster.
Three beds.
One bookshelf.
A round table.
Several weapons hanging neatly—
And papers scattered absolutely everywhere.
Then—
"AHH!"
Someone yelped.
A pile of books crashed loudly onto the floor.
Bang!
Zyren didn't even blink.
Rohan Ash sighed deeply.
"You scared me."
The serious young man bent down and began gathering his papers.
Brown hair slightly messy.
Ink stains covering his fingers.
Meanwhile—
From the opposite side—
Loud laughter exploded.
"Hahahaha!"
Milo Lance nearly rolled off his bed.
Holding an apple.
Laughing shamelessly.
"You should have seen your face!"
Rohan glared at him.
"This is your fault."
Milo pointed at himself dramatically.
"My fault?"
He placed his hand over his chest.
"I am innocent!"
"You threw my books."
"That is called helping organize."
"You threw them out the window."
"I organized gravity."
Theon covered his mouth.
Trying not to laugh.
Rohan looked exhausted.
"One day..."
"I will kill him."
Milo gasped dramatically.
"Your Highness!"
He pointed at Rohan.
"He threatened my precious life!" 😭
Zyren ignored everyone.
Walked calmly.
Toward Milo's bed.
Then—
Without saying anything—
He laid down.
And covered his eyes with his arm.
Milo blinked.
Then grinned.
"Oho~"
"The grumpy prince has returned."
No answer.
Milo moved closer.
Resting his chin on his hands.
"So..."
"Did the emperor praise Nathan again?"
Silence.
"And warn you not to create trouble?"
Silence.
Milo slowly looked at Theon.
Theon sighed softly.
"Yes."
The room fell quiet.
Not awkward.
Just...
Sad.
Rohan adjusted his glasses.
Closed his book.
Then said calmly—
"His Majesty is blind."
Theon looked at him.
Rohan continued quietly,
"He sees Prince Nathan's kindness."
"But..."
"He never sees Prince Zyren's pain."
Silence.
Milo lowered his gaze.
For once—
He had no joke.
Then softly—
"You know..."
"You don't always have to pretend to be strong."
Zyren slowly lowered his arm.
His crimson eyes stared at the wooden ceiling.
For several moments—
Nobody spoke.
Then—
His quiet voice finally came.
"I don't care."
Simple.
Flat.
But—
Theon noticed it.
That tiny pause before the words.
That slight hesitation.
And his heart hurt.
Because...
It was a lie.
Zyren cared.
Far more than anyone knew.
As a child—
He had stood outside his father's study.
Holding a drawing.
Waiting.
Waiting for praise.
But Alaric never came.
As a teenager—
He fought his first war.
Returned victorious.
Covered in wounds.
The empire celebrated.
But his father praised Nathan instead.
Little by little—
The boy stopped waiting.
Stopped asking.
Stopped hoping.
And eventually—
He became silent.
Theon slowly closed his eyes.
His chest tightened painfully.
Because he still remembered—
Ten-year-old Zyren crying in his arms.
"Brother Theon..."
"Why doesn't Father love me?"
At that time—
Theon couldn't answer.
Even now—
He still couldn't.
Suddenly—
CLAP!
Milo jumped onto his bed dramatically.
"ENOUGH!"
Everyone looked at him.
"I declare tonight..."
He pointed proudly at the ceiling.
"FRIENDSHIP NIGHT!" 🎉
Rohan immediately replied.
"No."
"Yes!"
"No."
"YES!"
"I refuse."
Milo pointed dramatically.
"You refuse happiness!"
"I refuse you."
Theon burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
Even Rohan shook his head helplessly.
And then—
Zyren slowly closed his eyes.
At the corner of his lips—
A tiny smile appeared.
So small.
Almost invisible.
But—
Theon saw it.
And his eyes softened.
Because no matter what the world called him—
Monster.
Curse.
Crimson Moon.
To Theon—
Zyren was simply—
Family.
🌙
✧ Elsewhere... In the Kingdom of Aldmoor ✧
Outside—
Rain fell softly.
Tap...
Tap...
Tap...
Princess Aria Vale sat quietly beside the small window.
A book rested gently in her lap.
But she wasn't reading.
Her deep green eyes looked outside.
Watching.
Dreaming.
People walked freely.
Children ran through puddles.
Laughing happily.
Birds flew across gray skies.
And she...
Remained trapped.
A small sigh escaped her lips.
"I wish..."
She whispered softly.
"...I could see the world."
The rain answered quietly.
Tap... Tap...
Suddenly—
Creak...
The door slowly opened.
Aria quickly turned.
And immediately—
A smile bloomed on her face. ☺️
"Lady Mirea!"
The elderly maid entered carefully.
Holding a tray filled with warm food.
Fresh bread.
Hot soup.
And herbal tea.
Steam gently rose into the air.
Lady Mirea smiled lovingly.
"My princess..."
"You skipped lunch again."
Aria lowered her head guiltily.
"A little..."
"A little?"
Lady Mirea raised her eyebrow.
"You barely eat enough for a bird."
Aria smiled shyly.
"I wasn't hungry."
The old maid sighed.
Then gently placed the tray before her.
"You must take care of yourself."
Aria looked at the warm food quietly.
No one else in this palace cared whether she ate.
But Lady Mirea always did.
Her heart slowly warmed.
"Thank you..."
She whispered softly.
Lady Mirea gently touched her hair.
And smiled.
Outside—
Rain continued to fall.
And destiny...
Quietly moved closer.
Toward the lonely princess.
Toward the silent prince.
Toward a future neither of them could yet imagine.
🌧️🌙
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- Writer
