Bloodlines and Boundaries
924 Words
The towering obsidian doors of the royal dining hall groaned shut, sealing behind the princes with an echo that rattled the sconces along the corridor walls. The sound lingered in the silence like a verdict passed. Kenneth found himself walking beside Lucien and Darien, their steps slow, measured, echoing along the dark, polished marble. The weight of the King's declaration still hung in the air, like the static after lightning.
Lucien's hands were tucked into the sleeves of his royal tunic, his voice laced with a nonchalant tone that Kenneth didn’t fully trust. "So, little brother," he began with a sly glance, "first day at school and you've already got the court buzzing."
Kenneth blinked. "Buzzing?"
Darien chuckled, his arms folded behind his back in that stiff, reserved way of his. "Come now, Kenneth. You fought off four noble-born students without lifting a finger. That sort of thing travels fast in places like these."
"I didn't fight them," Kenneth said, brushing his fingers against the silver trim on the wall. "They just... came at me. I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"And yet you humbled them all," Lucien murmured, amused. "Impressive restraint. Dangerous potential."
Kenneth didn’t respond. Something in Lucien’s tone made his chest tighten.
Darien glanced over, studying Kenneth with those cool, sharp eyes. "What kind of training have you had?"
"None," Kenneth said, glancing between them. "Today was the first time I fought anyone. Malrik said I had good reflexes."
Lucien raised a brow. "No formal training? Then what you did was... instinctual?"
Kenneth nodded, hesitant. “I guess so.”
The older princes exchanged a look, subtle but heavy.
From farther down the hall, Aurelius watched them. Leaning against a stone pillar cloaked in shadows, his silver eyes were narrowed. His sharp jaw clenched.
He doesn’t even understand what he is, Aurelius thought. And yet Father looked at him when he spoke those words...
He remembered the prophet’s voice all too clearly. "He will either save the kingdom... or bring it to ruin." And now, Father’s cryptic gaze when he said the throne belonged not to the eldest, but the strongest.
Aurelius turned, disappearing into the shadows with quiet rage burning beneath his skin.
---
The silver vehicle that returned Kenneth to the Seventh Queen’s castle shimmered under the moonlight, its metal sleek and enchanted, drawn not by engines but ancient magic that hummed softly beneath its frame. Malrik stood by the gates before Kenneth stepped out, his aged eyes already reading the boy’s face.
"You held your composure," Malrik said with a small smile.
Kenneth grinned and bowed his head playfully. "Like a true Prince, right?"
Malrik chuckled. "You did well, my Prince."
They entered the palace, moonlight trailing behind them, casting long shadows over the crimson carpets. As soon as Kenneth stepped into the familiar hall, he was met with the gentle voice of Queen Seraphina.
"Kenneth?"
"Mother!" he rushed to her without pause, leaping into her arms. "You wouldn’t believe the size of the dining table! And Father was there, and all my brothers... even Sevrin!"
She smiled and stroked his hair, lowering herself to meet his eyes. "You spoke well?"
"I tried to. Malrik's training helped! And I didn't even spill my blood glass."
Seraphina laughed softly and hugged him again. "That's all a mother could hope for."
She gestured to the waiting maids. "Now, off you go. You’ve had quite the day."
Kenneth was ushered away by gentle hands and silk towels. As soon as his footsteps faded, Seraphina turned to Malrik. Her expression darkened.
"He told me everything. About Aurelius. About the King. That... look."
Malrik nodded grimly. "I saw it too."
They walked together into the small moonlit atrium, silent for a time as the garden winds whispered through the open windows. Seraphina took a seat beside the fountain, her fingers tracing the marble edge.
"He doesn’t know what he is. He doesn’t know what flows in his blood."
"He shouldn't," Malrik said. "Not yet. The less he knows, the more time we have."
"Time for what?" she asked softly. "To prepare him to become a weapon? Or to keep hiding him from his destiny?"
Malrik sighed and sat beside her. "Time to protect his heart before the world tries to tear it apart."
She looked at him then. "You saw how the King looked at him. When he said power determined the heir, not age."
"Yes," Malrik whispered. "Aurelius saw it too."
Seraphina's eyes filled with unease. "When the truth comes out... if the King finds out what Kenneth really is..."
"He may follow the prophet's words," Malrik said, trying to believe it. "The prophecy said he would bring either ruin or salvation. But only if he’s given the chance."
"And if he isn't?"
Malrik looked toward the hallway where Kenneth had disappeared. "Then we make sure he survives. No matter what."
Seraphina leaned against him slightly, tiredness etched into her regal face. The weight of a thousand years of war, of lies, of prophecy and fate pressed down on her shoulders.
Far above them, in his chamber, Kenneth slept peacefully. Arms curled around a velvet pillow, his lashes long against his cheek, his small chest rising and falling. But his dreams were not so peaceful.
He stood in a valley of ash, beneath skies lit with crimson fire. Wolves howled in the distance. Flames curled around him, and in their reflection, his own eyes stared back, not blue... but golden. Burning.
The war hadn’t begun.
But he could already feel it coming.
- Writer
