Soren's POV
The palace gates opened for me at dawn — and the first thing that hit me wasn't the smell of blood, or smoke. It was silence.
The kind of silence that follows fear.
Guards stood frozen along the hallway, eyes wide, unsure whether to salute or hide.
I walked past them without a word, boots echoing sharply against the marble. Every few steps, I saw broken glass, overturned furniture, shattered ornaments. The trail of the King's wrath.
Lieutenant Mara fell in beside me, her expression hard but shaken.
"Report," I said flatly.
Her voice was steady, though her eyes betrayed the weight of the night. "The King entered the grand hall around 1:14 a.m. He destroyed the throne, most of the royal decorum, and dismissed every staff on sight. The Queen was with him the entire time. She stopped him from hurting anyone."
I stopped walking. "Anyone?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir. Not even a guard was touched."
That was… unusual. Chris Blackwood's rage had always been surgical — never random. This? This was something deeper.
We turned into the main hall.
The sight was chaos dressed in gold and blood.
The throne — the Blackwood throne — lay on its side, one of its golden arms broken off. Wine stained the royal rug like dark wounds.
Mara stood beside me, whispering, "He destroyed his own seat…"
I looked around, jaw tightening. "No. He destroyed what he thinks has started to control him."
I knelt down beside a shard of glass, noticing streaks of blood on it. Fresh.
He'd hurt himself again.
"Mara," I said quietly, "order the medics to stand by. But no one approaches him unless he calls."
She hesitated. "Sir, with all due respect—"
I turned sharply. "That's an order."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes, General."
She stepped back, turning toward the guards, barking orders, her voice cutting through the air like steel.
As I stood, I let my gaze drift to the broken window.
The sunrise was bleeding through — bright and cold, slicing through the smoke.
Chris Blackwood had broken his palace… but not his crown.
That man wasn't losing control. He was resetting dominance.
And everyone in this empire — from soldier to queen — needed to remember who the throne truly belonged to.
---
Lieutenant Mara's POV
I watched General Soren pace before the broken throne. His silence was heavier than his words.
He didn't look angry. He looked… calculating.
I couldn't shake the image of the King from last night — barefoot, covered in dust and blood, eyes blazing like he wanted to burn the world down and rebuild it himself.
The Queen never left his side. Even when the storm tore through the palace, she stayed close, whispering, pleading, anchoring him.
And somehow, he listened.
I turned toward Soren. "Sir, what if this isn't just anger? What if the King's planning something bigger — something the Queen doesn't know yet?"
He stopped pacing, staring at the broken crown lying beside the throne. "Then, Lieutenant," he said slowly, "the empire's about to change again. And not for peace."
His voice dropped lower. "Keep eyes on the Queen. She's the only one who can calm him… or push him over the edge."
I nodded. "Understood."
But deep down, I knew — this wasn't just another royal rage.
This was a warning.
The King had torn apart his own house…
…which meant soon, he'd start tearing apart the world again.
—To be continued—