Dawn broke pale and thin, the first light of morning doing little to chase away the unease of the night. From the village of Eldralin, Kael and Isolde began their return to the capital, summoned by a rider bearing the king's seal. The summons was no surprise—Kael had vanished from the palace too long, and rumors of his absence were beginning to stir. Yet the timing unsettled him.
"Varrow," Kael muttered as their horses trotted along the forest path. "He must have already reached Aldric. This summons bears his hand."
Isolde glanced at him, worry in her eyes. "Do you think he told the king what happened in the Hollow?"
Kael's jaw clenched. "Not the truth. He'll twist it. He always does."
The capital was awake when they arrived. Market stalls bustled, guards patrolled the gates, and whispers spread faster than fire. Kael felt their eyes on him—the prince who had disappeared into the night and returned with a strange woman at his side.
In the throne room, King Aldric sat upon the Moonstone Seat, his crown tilted as though its weight pressed more heavily than usual. Lines of fatigue marked his face, but his eyes were sharp. Beside him, Varrow stood tall, hands folded neatly in his sleeves, expression unreadable.
"Prince Kael," King Aldric said, his voice carrying through the vaulted chamber. "My son returns at last. Where have you been? Your duty is to your kingdom, not to the wilds."
Kael bowed, though his tone was firm. "Father, I've not been idling. There are stirrings in the land—whispers of old shadows returning. I sought their source."
Varrow's voice slid in smoothly, silken as ever. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The prince sought danger where none need tread, and in doing so, brought back… curiosities." His gaze flicked to Isolde. "A healer, though not merely that, if the rumors are true."
The court erupted in murmurs. Isolde flushed, standing tall despite the stares. Kael stepped closer to her, his voice rising above the whispers. "She saved my life. Her gift is not a threat to the kingdom—it may be the only thing standing between us and the curse of the Shadow King."
The chamber fell into stunned silence. Even King Aldric leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "The Shadow King is a tale for frightened children, not for princes to chase in the night."
Varrow's lips curved in a faint smile. "And yet, Your Majesty, the boy speaks with conviction. Conviction that can be… shaped. Perhaps his fears have merit. Or perhaps, they reveal where his loyalty truly lies."
Kael's fists clenched at his sides. "My loyalty is to Aeloria—to you, Father. But we cannot ignore what we saw. The Hollow of Whispers stirs, and with it, the chains of the Shadow King."
The court buzzed again, divided between fear and skepticism. Varrow raised his hand, quieting them with practiced ease. "Then let us not dismiss the prince's… discoveries outright. If shadows stir, they can be studied. Controlled. Perhaps even turned to Aeloria's strength, rather than its doom."
King Aldric's gaze wavered between his son and his adviser. "Enough. The matter will be discussed in council. Until then, Kael, you will remain in the capital. And you, healer…" His eyes narrowed on Isolde. "You will be watched."
Isolde bowed stiffly, though her heart thundered in her chest. Watched. Caged. Already, the chains of suspicion were closing in.
As they left the throne room, Kael leaned close, his voice low. "Varrow has them in his hand. He'll twist this until Father sees us as the threat."
Isolde's fingers tightened around his arm. "Then we need proof. We need to show them the Hollow's truth before Varrow buries it beneath his lies."
Behind them, Varrow lingered at the edge of the chamber, his smile faint but triumphant. He had planted the seeds, and already they grew—seeds of doubt, of suspicion, of division.
And as the court dispersed, the whispers spread through the capital: whispers of the Shadow King, of the flame, and of a kingdom unprepared for the darkness about to rise.