THE SHADOW PRINCE'S DEBT.

PROLOGUE The Hall of Sovereigns had never been so quiet. Hundreds of eyes followed the young prince standing alone beneath the five royal banners. No chains. No guards. He stood straight anyway. The silence stretched until even the banners seemed too heavy to stir. Somewhere in the vast hall, hot candlewax hissed against polished marble. A staff struck the floor. “His Majesty.” The sound echoed through the chamber. Every noble bowed. The young prince did not. The king remained seated for a long moment before speaking. “The court has heard the testimonies.” His voice carried effortlessly across the hall. “The evidence has been examined.” Another pause. “The court has reached its verdict.” “I didn't do it.” The prince's voice carried farther than he intended. It echoed from stone to stone before dissolving into silence. No one answered. The king rose. Robes whispered over marble. Every head remained lowered. Only the prince continued to watch him. He had seen this man laugh until tears gathered in his eyes. He had watched him cheat shamelessly at board games and insist it was strategy. He had once ridden on those broad shoulders to watch dragons wheel above the palace gardens. This couldn't be the same man. “The accused has been found guilty.” A murmur swept through the court. The prince frowned. “...Father?” The word slipped out before he could stop it. The king's fingers tightened around the arm of the throne. Just once. “So...” The prince swallowed. “You truly believe I betrayed you?” Silence. The king descended the steps. Slowly. Deliberately. Each footstep echoed through the hall until he stopped within arm's reach. Close enough for the prince to notice the silver threading through his father's dark hair. Close enough to remember those same hands fastening his cloak before winter hunts. “The sentence...” The king paused. For the briefest heartbeat, his voice refused to obey him. “The sentence is exile beyond the Veil.” The prince stared. Exile? The word felt wrong in his mouth. Not execution? Whispers rippled through the chamber. “Exile?” “Why spare him?” “It should've been...” The murmurs died as quickly as they had begun. One of the princes lowered his head. Not in grief. To hide the corner of his mouth. The king never looked in his direction. A court official approached carrying a velvet cushion. Upon it rested the royal signet ring. The official's hands trembled. The king noticed. “I'll do it.” The official stepped back immediately. The king reached for his son's hand. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them moved. For one impossible moment, father and son stood there while the entire court watched. Then... The ring slipped free. It landed softly against the velvet. Such a small sound. Yet it echoed louder than the verdict. “The accused is stripped of all titles, honours and succession rights.” The prince looked at the pale band of skin where the ring had rested for years. His fingers curled instinctively, as though they could still feel its weight. “...I see.” He bowed. Perfectly. When he straightened, his face revealed nothing. He turned. “...Al...” The entire court froze. The king closed his eyes. Only for a heartbeat. When they opened again, there was only a ruler standing before his court. “Escort the prisoner to the Veil.” The prince's steps echoed across the marble. One. Two. Three. The great doors groaned open. Cold air rushed into the hall. Just before he crossed the threshold, a voice broke through the silence. “Prince Alastor!” He stopped. His shoulders stiffened. For a single heartbeat, it looked as though he might turn around. Instead... He kept walking. The doors closed behind him with a thunderous boom. Silence swallowed the hall once more. The king remained standing. “Next matter.” No one moved. “I said...” His voice cracked across the chamber like a whip. “Next matter.”