Days later, Aelric was summoned to the throne chamber.
Not for punishment.
Not for praise.
But for something far more dangerous—an audience with both his father and mother in private.
King Elrien Larethian sat with the air of a man burdened by prophecy. He wore his ceremonial crown of starlight, eyes cold like winter rivers.
Queen Saelara, however, leaned forward with warmth in her gaze.
Aelric bowed. "You summoned me?"
> "Word spreads too fast," King Elrien said. "Even the border courts now know you wield a blade born of fate distortion."
> "You broke tradition," the Queen said softly. "And tradition fears what it cannot bind."
The King stood. "You've drawn attention, boy. Some of it dangerous. There are factions within the Council who consider your existence a crack in the lineage."
> "Do they forget I am their blood?"
> "They see you as something… else."
The Queen stepped down, kneeling to meet Aelric eye to eye.
> "Which is why I'm offering you this — an official title of Shadow Warden. You will operate beyond court constraints, training and acting in secret. Officially… you will be exiled. Unofficially, you'll be groomed as a protector of the realm."
> "A sword in the dark," the King said. "Not a prince in the light."
Aelric remained silent.
> "I see," he said. "You fear what I might become."
> "No," the Queen whispered. "We fear what others will make of you if we do nothing."
> "Do I have a choice?"
> "Always," the King said. "But even choices carry weight."
Aelric considered.
Freedom, but isolation. Power, but danger. Legacy, but in secret.
> "Then I accept," he said finally. "Let them call me exile. Let them whisper I fell."
> "Because I will rise from the dark… as a blade they never saw coming."
The Queen placed a sigil-branded pendant around his neck.
The King handed him an obsidian scroll — his command of office.
And just like that, Aelric Larethian, Second Prince of the Realm…
…vanished from court life.
But not from fate.