Chapter-9: The Heart of Aurelith
"What would you do if you became an empress?"
Lucien finished his food and watched Ethelia, waiting for her answer with what seemed like genuine curiosity.
She stopped mid-bite, studying his face for signs of mockery or manipulation. Finding neither—or at least nothing obvious—she answered carefully.
"I wouldn't focus on wars or empire expansion. I'd focus on common people. They're the ones who suffer most in every conflict." She took another bite of chicken. "And you?"
Lucien's gaze drifted to two elaborate carriages approaching from down the street, heading toward the Great Castle. "I don't know."
The honesty in those three words surprised her more than any elaborate answer could have.
Before Ethelia could press further, both carriages came to an abrupt halt before them. A young man emerged from the first—early twenties, well-dressed, moving with the careful grace of someone conscious of being watched.
"Prince Lucien, what are you doing on the streets?" He looked genuinely puzzled, then turned to Ethelia. "And you're Ethelia De Colisson, correct?"
She nodded.
Without waiting for permission, he sat down beside Lucien on the bench.
"Cian..." Lucien's smile held warmth, though something else lingered beneath it. "I would have met you at the Palace. You didn't need to come greet me here."
From the second carriage, an older man emerged—mid-forties, austere bearing, followed by twelve guards in formation. He remained at the edge of the road, not approaching the bench. His presence alone made nearby pedestrians step back nervously.
"Oh, Advisor Markious is here too?" Lucien's tone carried gentle teasing.
Cian immediately went quiet, the playfulness draining from his face. He looked embarrassed, almost ashamed.
"The court meeting is about to begin, Your Highness." Markious Amal, Chief Advisor to the Emperor, spoke with barely concealed disapproval—though whether directed at his son's casual behavior or the Prince's street dining was unclear. "You should come along."
Cian stood up fearfully, trying to maintain composure under his father's gaze.
Lucien's hand shot out, catching Cian's wrist. Stopping him.
"Advisor Markious." His voice remained pleasant but carried unmistakable authority. "You should go ahead. Cian will come with me."
A muscle twitched in Markious's jaw. For a heartbeat, calculation flickered across his features—weighing options, assessing risks, measuring the cost of refusal.
"Of course, Your Highness. As you say."
He returned to his carriage without another word, though his final glance at his son carried volumes.
The tension bled out of Cian's shoulders the moment the carriages departed.
"It's been a month since you left for Nurin State—" Cian went to the food stall and grabbed a honey pie, speaking over his shoulder. "You didn't even ask me to come along. You didn't tell me why you were going."
Lucien stood and joined him, close enough that Ethelia couldn't hear his response.
"Ira Ombres," he whispered, just for Cian's ears. "I liked her so much I couldn't resist."
Cian flushed, then broke into a playful grin. He gave Lucien's shoulder a teasing nudge, and for a moment they looked like nothing more than young men sharing secrets about women.
Ethelia watched the exchange with growing confusion. 'Who is he really? Which version is the truth?'
"We should go to the Castle, shouldn't we?" Her voice carried both question and command.
They began walking together down the wide avenue toward the imposing structure in the distance.
"Is Lucien really unnatural in looks, or is there something else?" Ethelia asked Cian, keeping her tone casual.
"Oh, juicy question!" Cian shot Lucien a mischievous look, receiving an amused grin in return. "You could say his violet eyes and pale skin came from his mother, Serenya Aurevane. But his hair—" He gestured at the distinctive silver-white. "That's a mystery. His mother had brown hair, from what I understand."
Something shifted in Lucien's expression. His gaze went distant for a moment, unfocused. Grief? Emptiness? Some emotion too complex to name?
He looked up at the sky, just for a second.
"Ah, sorry Lucien." Cian's playfulness evaporated immediately. "I got careless. Too comfortable." He turned to Ethelia, more serious now. "Lucien's mother died when he was five. I assume you knew that."
"I knew the First Empress died young, but—" Ethelia looked at Lucien, and despite her practiced stoicism, genuine warmth broke through. "I didn't mean to bring up something painful."
"It's fine," Lucien said simply. His mask was already back in place, smooth and impenetrable.
But Ethelia had seen that moment. That brief fracture in his composure.
'He feels things,' she realized. 'He just buries them so deep even he can't reach them anymore.'
They reached the outer checkpoint of the Great Castle complex. Ahead rose a massive steel gate reinforced with iron bands, flanked by guard towers. Hundreds of soldiers stood at attention—spears, shields, swords all gleaming in the afternoon sun. They saluted in perfect unison as the Prince approached.
The capital's military might on full display. The heart of an empire that had swallowed kingdoms and would swallow more.
Guards looked nervous and fascinated seeing a female Death Knight from very close.
Ethelia had been to many palaces, many courts. But this was different. The scale. The precision. The sense that everything here operated according to designs within designs, strategies she couldn't begin to untangle.
And Lucien walked through it all like he owned every stone, every guard, every shadow.
'Different with his friend,' she cataloged mentally. 'Different with his father's advisor. Different with me. Which one is real? Or are all of them masks layered over something I haven't seen yet?'
The gates began to open, massive hinges groaning.
Beyond lay the inner palace grounds—manicured gardens, marble walkways, the towering structure of the Great Castle itself reaching toward the sky like a declaration of power.
Lucien paused at the threshold, glancing back at her.
"Welcome to Siena, Death Knight," he said. "Try not to let it eat you alive."
Then he walked through, Cian following a half-step behind.
Ethelia took a breath and stepped through into the heart of the Aurelith Empire.
Where nothing was as it seemed.
And everyone played games she was only beginning to understand.