The throne hall was thick with voices when Kael and Isolde arrived, the cracked volume clutched in the prince's hand. Nobles argued in raised tones, their silks rustling like restless wings. Fear laced the air—fear of famine, of whispers, of shadows in the fields.
At the head of the chamber, King Aldric sat forward on the Moonstone Seat, his fingers gripping the armrest as though the crown itself pressed too heavily upon him. Varrow stood at his side, calm as ever, his smile faint, his eyes calculating.
Kael strode into the center, holding the tome aloft. "Father, lords of Aeloria, I bring proof. The curse is no rumor—it is prophecy, older than this court, older than your crowns."
The chamber fell silent as he laid the cracked volume upon the steps of the throne. Isolde's voice carried softly but firmly as she read from the page, her golden light illuminating the silver script:
"When the Shadow King was bound, he was not destroyed. His chains were woven from flame and moonlight. And when the flame returns, the bond shall waver. Should the flame falter, the crown of shadows will rise again."
Gasps rippled through the court. Murmurs rose, fearful and urgent.
King Aldric's face darkened. "This is grave indeed… if true."
Varrow stepped forward, his tone silken, his words measured to cut. "If true, Your Majesty. But what if this is merely a tale, written to frighten children? Or worse… what if it is bait? What if the very flame who reads it aloud is the one meant to break the chains?"
All eyes turned to Isolde. She stood her ground, though her heart thundered. "I did not choose this. The Hollow marked me, yes, but I am not its servant. I am its answer. Without my light, the border would already be lost."
One lord rose, his face pale with fear. "And yet, my king, is this not dangerous? To trust the flame is to risk the fire consuming us all."
Others nodded, their whispers growing into voices. "Exile her." "Chain her." "Test her loyalty."
Kael's voice cut through the noise like steel. "Enough! You let fear blind you while Varrow poisons your ears. I saw the Hollow with my own eyes. The Shadow King stirs. If you doubt her, then doubt me too—but do not mistake silence for safety. While you argue, the chains are breaking."
Varrow's smile never faltered. He inclined his head toward Aldric. "The prince's passion is admirable. But passion does not protect a kingdom. Prudence does." His eyes glinted. "Better to hold the flame in the king's hand than let it wander uncontrolled."
The suggestion struck the court like thunder. Imprisonment. Containment. A gilded cage.
Isolde's throat tightened. "You would lock me away? While the curse spreads across the land?"
King Aldric lifted a weary hand, silencing the chamber. His gaze moved from his son to his adviser, then to the young woman whose magic shimmered faintly in the air.
"I will decide before nightfall," he said at last, his voice heavy. "Until then, no action is taken."
The court dispersed in uneasy murmurs, but Kael knew the decision had already been poisoned. Varrow had planted his seed, and the lords watered it with fear.
As they left the hall, Kael leaned close to Isolde. "We can't wait for Father's judgment. Varrow wants you caged, and once you're in his grasp, he'll have all the kingdom at his mercy."
Isolde's hands trembled, the Hollow's mark burning faintly. "Then we need more than proof. We need power—something undeniable, something the court cannot twist."
Kael nodded grimly. "Then we find it. Before Varrow tightens the noose."
Above them, the Moonstone windows shimmered with pale light. And in the shadows of the hall, Varrow watched them leave, his eyes gleaming with the certainty of a hunter who knows his prey has nowhere left to run.