They say the second sons are born with a chip on their shoulders, cursed to live in the shadow of the first. But Prince Jaden... he was different.
He was born not in the blazing glory of dawn, but in the velvet hush of midnight—when the stars hold their breath and the moon listens in.
He was the firstborn of the Third Queen, Hodiah, and older brother to Judith and Jerusha, Jaden was never meant to rule. But tell me, has destiny ever stood in the way of a man who truly wanted power?
Obsidian eyes that seemed to weigh a man's soul in a glance. An elegance that leaves onlookers dazed. A voice smooth as oil, but able to cut deeper than any blade. Prince Jaden walked not as royalty, but as a shadow with a crown-shaped destiny.
Every step he took was calculated, every smile—deceptively disarming. The courtiers called him charming, his rivals whispered serpent when they thought he wasn't listening. But he heard them all.
He always hears everything.
Where the Crown Prince marshalled armies and paraded in sunlight, Jaden made his kingdom in secrets.
He stitched half-truths like a master tailor, threading them through the minds of men until even the honest choked on doubt.
No scandal unfolded in the royal court without his scent lingering like perfume. And none of his brothers were ever certain whether he was friend... or executioner.
Yet if there was a softness to be found in this spider's web of a man, it lay with his sisters. Judith and Jerusha—blood not just of his father, but of his mother too.
And for them, he would burn kingdoms to the ground. If a single strand of Jerusha's hair was harmed, he would make the culprit's head a butcher's board—without ever raising a blade himself.
He has mastered a top cultivation skill known as shadow skill, this he imbued in his most trusted men. He may not be necessary fast, but by the time he has a knife on your neck, you would have lost track of him and you will just be at the mercy of his decision. This was how he killed many enemies.
His own strength sat at the 7th level of the Ocean Opening Realm—formidable, yes. But his true power lay in the men around him. Dozens of elite guards, their strength spanning the 6th to 10th levels... and one—Cain Zuli.
Silent, watchful, deadly. A man of the Ocean Flooding Realm, second level. Unknown to most, even to Jerusha, Cain had been her guardian in secret.
When Jerusha fled Region 22, she believed she'd hidden under a passing wagon by fate. In truth, every step had been choreographed.
Cain Zuli ensured she was found just late enough to avoid suspicion, then dropped her—unconscious and unaware—in Region 32, where Jaden's men ensured her safety without ever revealing their hand.
To her, it was chaos. To Jaden, it was a well-played move on a sprawling board of influence.
Now, she stood within the grand palace in Region 6, the very heart of Jaden's domain. The walls rose like mountain cliffs, endless, silent, intimidating.
Guards stood at each crossroad—rigid, alert. And in the shadows, others moved unseen—phantoms trained in Jaden's feared Shadow Skill. It was said that if you noticed Jaden, he had already chosen whether you would live. Many who underestimated him never got to reconsider.
As Jerusha walked deeper into the sanctum, the air thickened—weighted with the power of secrets and the pulse of ambition. After a long time, Jerusha, finally started to hear voices behind a room.
"Lord Jaden you need to expand, we can't occupy Region 6 alone, we need to further increase your territories." A hoarse voice spoke out.
"No lord Jaden, we need to wait. No one could know our plan or read us easily, we thrive in the mystery.."
As the discussion continued, the soldier that has led Jerusha this far, entered into the room and bowed, "Lord Jaden, your sister, princess Jerusha is outside the door..."
Jaden raised his hand. A whisper of a motion, yet it silenced the room as if the wind itself dared not speak against him. He didn't shout. He never needed to.
"Bring her in..." He commanded in a voice not much louder than a whisper, but it carried weight that could even change the fate of a man.
Jerusha stepped into the chamber, her boots sinking slightly into the plush, maroon rug that lined the stone floor. The air was thick with incense, a musky blend of sandalwood and something darker, unfamiliar. At the center of the room stood a round table carved from obsidian, cold and glossy like still water in a midnight cave.
Seated at the head of the table was Jaden—Prince Jaden—his posture regal, his sharp features expressionless. In front of him sat a single cup, steam curling from the green liquid within. Its scent was sharp and medicinal, unplaceable, yet oddly comforting.
Their eyes met.
Jerusha's breath caught. The storm within her stilled. The weight of bloodshed, betrayal, and near-death dissolved in an instant. She rushed forward like a falcon drawn to its perch—her commander, her brother. Her identity, her pride, all fell away like a discarded cloak.
She crashed into him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and wept—deep, soul-breaking sobs that shook through her ribs. He said nothing at first. Just held her, solid as stone, letting her tears stain the polished leather of his cloak.
With a subtle nod from Jaden, the attendants and members of the round table alike, slipped out of the room in silence. The heavy door shut with a muffled thud and they were left alone. But even then, guards remained outside, alert as wolves, while shadows clung to the corners of the chamber—silent sentinels ready to kill at a breath's notice.
Jaden's voice was low, but steady, "What happened?"
He already knew. Of course, he knew. But he had always preferred to hear the story from the mouth of the survivor. It gave him insight the reports could never offer.
Jerusha didn't hesitate. "I almost died in Region 22," she began, her voice hoarse and thick with memory. And then the floodgates opened. She told him everything—about the ambush, the betrayal, the masked man, Lola's unexpected alliance, and the looming shadow of Balek.
Jaden listened quietly, his fingertips steepled, eyes narrowed in thought. Then something she said made him straighten.
"Wait," he interrupted, "Lola is now backing a man in a mask? And they plan to face Balek?"
An amused glint flickered in his eyes.
He rose from his chair, long strides carrying him to a different table tucked into the far end of the room. Upon it stood a map of the kingdom, riddled with hand-carved wooden pieces. Each piece bore a sigil, a colour, or a symbol—representing the power players across the lands.
He picked up a new piece, plain and unmarked, and placed it on Region 32.
"I think there's a new player in town," he said quietly, more to himself than her. "And he's… unpredictable. Either extremely wise, or dangerously kindhearted. Perhaps both. Either way, he saved you. That makes him... interesting."
Then he turned to her again, something darker flickering behind his calm facade. "Now, about Region 22... I suspect Alloysius had a hand in that mess."
Jerusha blinked, confused. "Alloysius? But why? I've never crossed him..."
"Not directly," Jaden replied, turning another piece over in his hand. "But do you remember Queen Maachah—his mother—the seventh? You shamed her publicly years ago. And the maid… the one you had executed by acid. She was loyal to Maachah's bloodline."
The room grew colder.
Jerusha's heart skipped. She'd thought that past buried.
"My informant—one of Alloysius' concubines—confirmed his rage. When you went to Region 22, I sent a shadow to trail you. He saw everything. I've been watching."
Jerusha's face twisted, fury igniting in her chest. She balled her fists so tightly her knuckles whitened.
"Then help me, brother. Kill him. Kill Alloysius. Slaughter the dogs of Region 22 and raze their compounds to ash!"
Jaden's gaze hardened, but his voice remained steady. "No, sister. Not yet. Killing a prince, even one as reckless as Alloysius, would tilt the delicate balance we've maintained. War would follow."
He let the silence stretch before adding, "But... the men who touched you? They can die."
Jerusha's jaw clenched, but she said nothing. The silence between them crackled with restrained fire. Outside, a raven croaked on the balcony railing as if to echo her fury.