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Chapter 44 – The Weight Beneath the Crown
The rain hadn't stopped since dawn. Heavy droplets lashed against the stained-glass windows of the Palazzo Volteri, as if the heavens themselves mourned what was to come. Kairo stood alone in the grand hall, the sound of his measured breathing echoing between the marble columns and cracked mosaics that told stories far older than his bloodline. The firelight danced across the room but offered no warmth.
A thick envelope rested in his gloved hands—black wax sealed with the Serpent's Crest. A message from Leoranzo.
Kairo's jaw clenched. Leoranzo wasn't just a name from the past—he was the final thread tying Kairo's soul to the days of ashes and war. And now, that thread was tugging.
Behind him, footsteps sounded softly. He didn't need to turn to know it was Elira. He felt her presence now the way a ship feels the tide—gentle at first, but always capable of turning the world.
"You're trembling," she said, her voice soft, laced with caution.
"I'm not," he replied too quickly, his voice thick. "It's just cold."
"No, it's not."
She stepped beside him, her gaze falling on the sealed letter. Her brows furrowed. "Is it from… him?"
He nodded slowly, fingers tightening. "Leoranzo. He wants a meeting."
Her breath caught, just for a second. Then she asked the question he feared. "Will you go?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he turned away from her, walking toward the large windows that overlooked the mist-veiled courtyard. "He wouldn't reach out unless it was serious. And if I don't respond, he'll consider it a declaration."
"A declaration of war," she whispered.
Kairo didn't deny it.
For a moment, silence stretched between them like a chasm. Then Elira crossed it. "You once told me Leoranzo taught you everything about power—how to steal it, how to wield it, and how to bleed for it."
"He also taught me how to bury everything human inside me," Kairo said bitterly.
"And now he wants you to become that monster again?"
"No." Kairo's voice dropped to a whisper. "He wants to see if I've become more than that."
Elira stepped in front of him, gently placing a hand over his heart. "Then show him. But do it your way."
He looked down at her. The storm outside paled in comparison to the turmoil in his gaze.
"I'm tired of doing this alone, Elira."
"You're not," she said. "Not anymore."
Just then, a shadow stepped into the doorway.
It was Cassian.
"There's something you both need to see," he said. "It's about the traitor within the Council. We found them."
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
Cassian looked directly at Elira.
"Elira's father. Cassarion Wynne."
---
The silence that followed Cassian's words was deafening.
Elira's face went rigid, her breath caught mid-inhale. For a heartbeat, everything stilled—the fire, the rain, even the flickering of her pulse. She blinked, once, twice, as if she hadn't heard right. As if her mind was buying time for her heart to shatter in private.
"What… what did you just say?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
Cassian didn't falter. "Your father, Lady Elira. He's been feeding intelligence to Leoranzo's operatives—coded messages passed through the merchant routes between Altross and Castellan. We verified it through two separate informants and intercepted three correspondences carrying his seal."
Kairo's eyes were already shadowed, but now, they turned deadly still. He stepped forward. "How long?"
"Since before the coronation," Cassian replied grimly. "Perhaps even longer."
Elira stumbled back, her hand reaching behind for support against the cold marble pillar. Her father. The man who raised her with stories of honor, sacrifice, and unyielding loyalty to the old monarchy. A man who claimed to have retired from the political world, who had stayed behind in Valeria while she served Kairo… He had lied.
"No," she murmured. "No, there must be a mistake. He wouldn't… he couldn't."
"Elira," Cassian said, gently now, "we've confirmed the seal, the cipher, the pattern of words. It's his writing. His intent."
Kairo turned to her, his voice steady but soft. "We don't need an answer right now. But we need to be prepared. If Cassarion has chosen to align with Leoranzo, he becomes a threat—to you, to me, to the Crown."
A thousand thoughts warred inside her—her father's face, his last letter, the way he spoke of Kairo with restrained contempt masked as diplomacy. Had he known all along? Had he been waiting for the right moment to strike?
"No," she repeated, this time more forcefully. "He's my father. He wouldn't betray me."
Kairo took a step closer. "You don't know him the way you think you do. He may have raised you, Elira, but loyalty is not passed down by blood. It's chosen. And sometimes… it's bought."
Tears brimmed in her eyes, but none fell. Her back straightened, the storm in her chest beginning to harden into resolve. "Then I'll go to him."
Kairo's expression darkened. "Absolutely not."
"I have to," she insisted. "If he's turned, I need to hear it from him. I need to know why. Maybe I can stop him before this spirals."
Kairo looked at Cassian, who gave him a small shake of the head—too risky. But Kairo knew Elira. Knew she wouldn't let this go.
"If you go," Kairo said slowly, "you won't go alone."
She looked up at him, questioning.
He leaned in, his voice low and cold. "I'll send someone with you. Someone who won't hesitate to kill him if he so much as blinks the wrong way."
She nodded, not in fear—but in quiet understanding.
"I want to believe he's still the man who tucked me in with poetry," she whispered, "but if he's betrayed me… I'll be the one to close that chapter."
The firelight caught in her eyes then—not tears, but steel.
---
The rain had lessened to a drizzle, thin streaks of silver lining the night like unraveling threads of fate. The Voltteri estate loomed in the distance, its sharp gables outlined against the broken moon. Inside one of the guest wings, Celeste sat on the velvet chaise, knees drawn to her chest, a fire crackling before her—but the warmth failed to reach her bones.
Kairo had not returned.
And that, somehow, frightened her more than if he had stormed in covered in someone else's blood.
She clutched the edge of the blanket tighter. The whispering in the walls—the kind that echoed memories she never lived—grew louder in the stillness. Footsteps passed outside her door. Servants? Spies? Or just the house creaking beneath the weight of old sins?
The door opened with a quiet knock. Elira stepped in, her hair damp from the rain, her coat draped over her arm. Her eyes, rimmed with exhaustion, softened the moment they landed on Celeste.
"You shouldn't be alone," Elira said gently.
Celeste managed a hollow smile. "You think I'm in danger?"
"I think you're in pain."
There was a long silence between them, and then Elira walked in, setting down her coat, her movements slow. She poured two glasses of warm brandy from the decanter by the hearth and handed one to Celeste.
"I overheard some of the council tonight," she said quietly, watching the flames. "They don't think Kairo can be controlled anymore."
Celeste swallowed. "Was he ever meant to be?"
Elira looked at her, brows drawn. "They're planning something. Leoranzo's name was mentioned."
Celeste's knuckles went white around the glass. "He's alive?"
"Yes," Elira said. "And not in prison."
The words fell like thunder.
Celeste stood abruptly. "Kairo told me he sent him to be locked away—"
"Then he lied."
"No," she whispered, backing away. "No, he—he wouldn't—"
"I think he did. To protect you. Or maybe to keep you from interfering." Elira sighed, not with judgment but sorrow. "But you're stronger than that, Celeste. You deserve the truth."
Celeste turned toward the rain-laced window, her reflection pale, fractured by droplets. "If he lied about Leoranzo... what else has he kept from me?"
"I think he's hiding too much from all of us," Elira murmured. "And it's going to burn us down if we don't stop it."
A distant explosion rumbled—faint, but real. Somewhere in the industrial district.
Elira and Celeste both turned sharply.
"Stay here," Elira said quickly, striding toward the door. "I'll find out what that was."
Celeste, breath shallow, sank back onto the chaise. Her heart beat a dangerous rhythm of dread. Everything—everything—was beginning to unravel again.
And deep within her chest, something darker stirred.
---
The sound of the explosion echoed in Celeste's chest long after it had shaken the manor's foundations.
Soot rained from the ceiling, and flickering lights above cast manic shadows across the drawing room. She stumbled backward, instinctively shielding her face. Elira had dropped to the floor, her arms curled around her head, but her eyes—wide and stormy—searched Celeste's face for answers that neither of them had.
"Was that the east wing?" Elira asked breathlessly, her voice tinged with fear.
Celeste nodded slowly. "The garage and the labs are in that direction."
The implications settled over both women like ash.
Kairo.
Without a second thought, Celeste bolted toward the door, her feet flying over the marble tiles slick with dust and debris. She could barely hear Elira yelling after her, nor the growing wail of sirens from outside the estate. All she could think of was him.
The hallway leading to the east wing was already crowded with shadows—guards barking orders, staff running for safety, someone crying softly into a communicator. Celeste pushed past them all, adrenaline clawing through her veins.
At the far end of the corridor, a trail of black smoke curled out from under a scorched doorway.
She threw her weight against it.
Inside, the scene was chaos.
Flames licked the remnants of what once was a polished meeting chamber. Steel beams twisted out from the ceiling like monstrous vines, while shattered monitors blinked in dying light. One guard lay unconscious on the floor, bleeding from his temple. Another was crawling toward the door.
But there was no sign of Kairo.
"Kairo!" she screamed, coughing on the thick, acrid smoke. "Kairo!"
From somewhere behind the wall of flames, there was a muffled crash, followed by a choked voice: "Stay back!"
Her heart twisted.
She recognized the voice. And it wasn't Kairo.
Another explosion detonated behind the wall—smaller, but precise.
Then, as if carved by fate, a figure burst through the smoke.
Not Kairo.
Leoranzo.
His suit jacket was torn, his cheek cut open, and his left hand clutched a device blinking faintly red—an EMP trigger.
Celeste froze, blood turning to ice.
He saw her too, just as surprised. But where she recoiled in disbelief, his lips curled into a slow, venomous smile.
"I was wondering when our paths would cross again, prințesă," he said smoothly. "How poetic that it would be here, in the burning heart of Kairo's kingdom."
"You—you're supposed to be—" she stammered, eyes darting behind him.
"In prison?" he finished for her. "Ah, Celeste. So much trust. So much faith. You always did believe the lies he told you."
She took a step back, trembling. "Where is Kairo?"
"Alive," Leoranzo said, with a chuckle that didn't reach his eyes. "But only just. You see, the problem with Kairo is that he forgets—power doesn't protect. It consumes."
"You set the fire."
He raised his brow. "I merely redirected it. You think your dear emperor was the only one who could orchestrate a coup?"
The red light on the trigger began to blink faster.
Behind her, guards shouted, running toward them.
"I wouldn't," Leoranzo warned, backing toward a side exit. "The next charge is beneath the manor's mainframe. You'd be surprised how delicate legacy systems can be."
"You won't get away with this," Celeste said, her voice trembling but hardening.
He smirked. "I already have."
And with that, he disappeared into the smoke.
---
Celeste stood frozen for a moment, her pulse hammering in her throat. Then she turned, screaming for help, as the fire roared behind her and the weight of betrayal crushed everything inside her chest.
In the distance, sirens wailed louder.
But even louder was the silence of Kairo's absence.
---
The tower bell struck again, the echo vibrating through the hollow ribs of the ruined district. Smoke rose higher into the sky, blurring out the early dawn, turning the horizon to molten rust. Celeste's lungs ached with the weight of the soot as she clutched Elira's hand tighter, watching the flames devour a building she didn't even recognize—because now, nowhere was safe.
From behind them, the soldiers of House Seo rushed in formation, Kairo at their head. His coat was ash-smeared, eyes coal-black with fury, yet composed. His gaze snapped toward Celeste immediately, and for the briefest second, it was only them in this fractured world.
"You're safe," he muttered hoarsely, stepping close.
Celeste didn't answer. Her throat tightened with words she didn't know how to say. You lied. You chose silence. You played a game where I was the last to know. But instead, she swallowed it. "The explosion—"
"Targeted," Kairo said shortly. "Not random. It was the archives that housed the Old Council's sealed court records."
Elira paled. "That's where the transcripts on the Phoenix Revolt were hidden, weren't they?"
He nodded grimly.
Celeste's pulse throbbed in her ears. "And the Phoenix Revolt... that's where your father disappeared."
Kairo looked at her for a long moment. "Disappeared, yes. But I'm starting to wonder if he ever truly left."
His cryptic words slithered between them, unanswered. Then he turned to one of his lieutenants and issued orders, his voice a sharp blade slicing through panic. "Contain the fires. I want every surviving document preserved. Double the patrols on all council houses."
"Kairo," Elira said, stepping in front of him before he could vanish again. "Leoranzo wasn't just released. He's been meeting with someone from inside your faction."
Kairo's brow lifted slightly, but his voice was deathly calm. "Who?"
She shook her head. "Not yet confirmed. But I think it's someone high enough to override your command protocols."
"That narrows it," he murmured, then turned to Celeste. "Come with me."
She hesitated. She had every reason to walk away, yet something in his tone—tired, earnest, fractured—kept her rooted.
"Please," he added quietly.
In silence, she followed.
They crossed the broken roads of Solinaris, down into the depths of the old chapel under the city. The scent of holy ash lingered there, mixed with iron and candle wax. At the center was a stone coffin with old runes still flickering dimly.
Kairo knelt beside it and pulled a latch only a few in the realm knew existed. The floor grated open beneath them, revealing an iron spiral staircase lit by glowing glyphs.
"Where are we going?" Celeste asked softly.
"To the only place Leoranzo can't touch."
As they descended, the walls around them shimmered faintly, like a different realm was bleeding through. And somewhere in the silence between steps, Celeste realized: this wasn't just a war of blood and power.
This was a war of memories. Of forgotten truths. Of sins buried in ancient stone.
And they were running out of time.
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End of Chapter 44