The Crown's Deception

Chapter 3: The Shattering Veil

As I sank onto a worn chair in the dimly lit tavern, the hard wood creaked beneath me, a stark contrast to the polished halls I’d left behind. The shadows clung to every corner, whispering secrets that felt heavier than the night air itself.

Kael — the stranger who had appeared at my darkest hour — sat across from me, his eyes sharp but guarded.

“Why did you risk everything to save me?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, the weight of his own truth pressing down. “Because the throne you’re meant to wear is surrounded by lies... and because I know what’s really at stake.”

My heart quickened. “What do you mean?”

Kael’s gaze dropped to his hands, clenched tightly. “The crown... it’s not just a symbol. It hides a secret that could unravel Lysara. And the people who want to control you—they’re hiding that secret.”

I leaned in, desperate. “Tell me.”

He swallowed hard, then spoke quietly. “Years ago, before I was banished, I uncovered proof that the crown’s light—the Lightstone—is a lie. The true power was stolen, replaced by a false gem. Whoever holds the fake crown holds a kingdom doomed to fall.”

Shock and fear twisted inside me. The throne I was born to inherit might already be broken.

Kael looked up, meeting my eyes with a fierce determination. “That’s why I helped you escape. Because you’re the only one who can set things right.”

The candle flickered between us, its flame dancing like the fragile hope I clung to.

“Then we need to find the real Lightstone,” I whispered.

Kael nodded. “And we need to be careful. There are those who will kill to keep the truth buried.”

Outside the tavern, the night deepened, filled with unseen eyes watching, waiting.

The game for the crown had only just begun.

The weight of his words hung between us like an invisible chain. Kael’s eyes didn’t waver, though I could see the years of bitterness and battle carved into them. He had risked everything to tell me this — or at least, that’s what he wanted me to believe.

My father’s voice echoed in my mind: “Never trust a man who hides his face.”

And yet, the palace had taught me another truth: the faces you can see are often the ones lying the most.

I studied Kael’s hands, rough from sword work, not soft from court life. His posture was alert, ready — like someone who expected betrayal at any moment.

Trust. The one thing I’d vowed to guard carefully. But here, in this smoky tavern, with danger pressing in from every side, I realized trust was also a weapon. And sometimes you had to place it in the right hands before it could cut through the lies.

“I believe you,” I said quietly, surprising even myself.

His brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t. Not yet.”

“That’s the problem, Kael,” I said, leaning forward, lowering my voice. “If I can’t trust the man who saved my life, then I have no one. And I can’t fight this alone.”

For the first time since I’d met him, his lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile — more like the ghost of one. “Then you’ll have me,” he said. “But trust comes with a price.”

My pulse quickened. “And what’s your price?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze shifted to the door, as if sensing eyes watching us from the street. Then he said, “When the time comes, you’ll have to choose between your crown and my life. And I’ll need you to choose me.”

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

Before I could speak, the door creaked open, and a shadow fell across our table.

The tavern’s murmurs died instantly, replaced by the faint crackle of the hearth.

Framed in the doorway stood a tall figure, draped in velvet midnight-blue robes, the hood falling just enough to reveal sharp, aristocratic features. The flicker of torchlight caught on a golden signet ring — one I knew all too well.

It was Lord Malrik Thorne.

My father’s most trusted advisor.

He scanned the room, his gaze slicing through the smoke until it landed on me. His smile was faint, polite… and utterly dangerous.

“Your Highness,” he said smoothly, stepping forward. “You’ve caused quite the stir in your absence.”

Kael’s hand went to the hilt of his dagger beneath the table. “We’re leaving,” he murmured.

But Malrik’s men — six of them, cloaked in the same midnight shade — had already begun to fan out across the tavern, blocking every exit.

“You’ve been terribly misled, Princess,” Malrik continued, his voice carrying the calm certainty of a spider speaking to a fly. “Come with me, and I’ll see you returned safely to your father. Refuse, and…” He let the silence finish the threat for him.

Kael rose slowly, placing himself between us.

Malrik’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying him. “Ah. The banished guard. I wondered when you’d crawl back from exile.”

Kael’s voice was low, steady. “You should have wondered why.”

I felt my breath catch as the tension thickened. Somewhere, deep inside, I knew that whatever happened next would decide everything — my freedom, my crown, and my life.

Malrik’s gaze returned to me. “Princess. Choose.”