In a field overflowing with wildflowers, Allesio lay with his head resting on the lap of a beautiful girl. The scent of blossoms filled the air, blending with the warmth of the afternoon sun. Her face was as delicate as the petals around them, her eyes shimmering like twin stars against the vast sky.
"Do you love me?" Lilian asked softly, her fingers brushing through his hair.
Allesio smiled, his gaze lost in hers. "If love were a fire, you would be the eternal flame that burns within my soul. If love were the wind, you would be the whisper that carries me home. I love you beyond time, beyond fate—more than the very world itself."
Lilian chuckled, a hint of sorrow flickering in her eyes. "And what will you do if you ever lose me?"
A shadow passed over Allesio's face. He took her hand, pressing it against his chest where his heart pounded. "If I lose you, I will tear apart the heavens in my grief. I will shatter the earth beneath my feet, let the rivers run dry, and turn the sky to darkness. I will make the world feel the weight of my sorrow until nothing remains but the echoes of your name."
Lilian looked at him, a melancholic smile playing on her lips. She wanted to believe those words would never be tested.
A few days later…
"I will make you suffer for what you did to our beloved king," King Tharil sneered, his voice thick with mock sorrow, a twisted grin betraying his true intentions.
Allesio, bound in unyielding chains, bruised and battered, could do nothing but glare at the man who had taken everything from him.
"Look there," Tharil hissed, gripping Allesio's jaw and forcing him to turn his head. "Your beloved is about to become my son's wife."
Through blurred vision, Allesio watched as Lilian stood beside Prince Tyrvaros at the altar.
"I hereby declare Prince Tyrvaros and Lilian husband and wife," the priest announced, his voice ringing through the grand hall like the tolling of a funeral bell.
Allesio thrashed against his restraints, his muscles straining, his wrists bleeding where the chains dug into his skin. But the guards held him down, their fists and boots silencing his resistance.
As the newlyweds walked past, Tyrvaros held Lilian's hand firmly. She turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a fragile smile—one meant to reassure him. "I'm alright" her eyes seemed to say. But Allesio saw through her act. Behind that smile, her soul was crumbling, just as his was.
A fire ignited within him—a fury hotter than the sun, darker than the abyss. He turned his gaze to King Tharil, his eyes burning with unspoken words: "You wretched bastard. I will kill you. I will kill every last one of you."
The king, sensing the unbridled rage in Allesio's eyes, smirked before delivering a vicious slap across his face.
"Take him to the dungeon," he ordered, his voice laced with cruel satisfaction.
The guards dragged Allesio away, his body weakened but his spirit unbroken. His mind screamed, his soul ached, but he couldn't change what had happened. He fought against the chains, against the fate forced upon him.
As the heavy doors of the dungeon slammed shut behind him, only one thing remained in his shattered heart—revenge.
Two Days Later — At the Party…
The grand ballroom shimmered under the golden chandeliers. The hall was massive and lavishly decorated—crimson banners lined the walls, floral arrangements adorned every corner, and crystal glasses clinked in harmony with the soft music echoing from a quartet of musicians playing piano and violin.
People from across the continents had gathered. Royalty, nobles, scholars, and merchants mingled in celebration.
Among the attendees stood notable kings:
King Kaldris of Kaldarheim, tall and aged, yet strong. His white beard flowed like a winter river, and his presence radiated calm authority.
King Malzareth of Nytheris, mysterious and brooding, eyes like cold steel—his very aura unsettled nearby guests.
King Zarkhul of Zalaris, barely twenty years old, charming and curious, already causing flustered giggles from noble daughters as he casually flirted from table to table.
The ballroom buzzed with laughter, dancing, and the clatter of silverware. Servants moved gracefully, weaving through the crowd with trays of food and wine.
Amid them, Aeron, dressed in a servant's uniform, pushed a decorated food trolley. Its upper level was adorned with pastries, fruits, and wine; the lower part was veiled in a semi-transparent white cloth. Hidden beneath it, Allesio crouched, peeking cautiously through the fabric.
Suddenly, Aamon stepped in front of Aeron, blocking his path with a sly smile.
"Nice disguise," Aamon said, lifting a glass of wine from the trolley without asking.
Aeron stiffened. "Why aren't you turning us in?"
"I owe Allesio a debt," Aamon replied with a shrug. "After that... we're enemies again."
Aeron narrowed his eyes. "Where's Miss Lilian?"
"She hasn't arrived yet," Aamon said, glancing toward the ballroom entrance. "But she'll be here soon. In the meantime..." he raised his glass, "enjoy the view."
Just then, a red-faced noble snapped at Aeron from across the room, "Where's our food? We're not here to starve!"
"Coming right away, sir," Aeron said with a bow, quickly pushing the trolley in that direction.
But as he turned a corner, a chilling sensation rippled through his chest—an overwhelming wave of dark energy. It was coming from somewhere nearby. Instinctively, he veered toward it, distracted—and collided with someone.
"I'm sorr—" Aeron froze mid-sentence. His eyes widened.
"Julian? Is that you?"
"Aeron?" Julian blinked in disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here? You disappeared from camp! And... why are you dressed like a servant?"
"I'm looking for someone. I followed him... and ended up here," Aeron said quickly.
"Who are you looking for?" Julian asked.
Aeron hesitated, glancing around. "It's a long story. I'll tell you later."
Julian sighed, his voice lowering. "Everyone's been searching for you like mad. You could've at least left a note."
"I know... I totally forgot," Aeron admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
Then he noticed Julian's attire. "Wait a second... Is that the Royal Knight uniform?"
Julian smiled faintly. "Yeah. I'm the Royal knight of King Zarkhul."
"What?! Why didn't you tell me before?" Aeron asked, clearly surprised.
"I don't exactly go around announcing it," Julian said, shrugging with a smirk. "I like my peace."
Before they could continue, a faint tap came from inside the trolley. Allesio's warning.
"What was that noise?" Julian asked, suspicious.
"I—I need to get back to work," Aeron said quickly, pushing the trolley forward before Julian could press further.
Julian watched him go, confused and curious, but said nothing—for now.
A few moments later…
"Attention, everyone!" Advisor Tharok's voice echoed through the hall, drawing all eyes to the grand staircase.
"King Tharil Di Vorn will now address you all."
The king stepped forward from beside the royal seat, his regal presence quieting the murmurs of the crowd. He raised his goblet with a proud smile.
"Tonight, I share joyous news. My beloved son… will soon become a father."
A wave of surprise and excitement swept over the ballroom. Applause erupted. Gasps turned to cheers.
Prince Tyrvaros and Lilian stood together, holding hands, their fingers gently intertwined. Lilian's cheeks flushed as she smiled at the crowd.
"Here's to my grandchild," King Tharil declared, and the crowd raised their glasses high.
Inside the catering trolley, Allesio's heart dropped. His breathing hitched. A single tear traced down his cheek as he listened, unseen. His face paled, and his hands clenched into trembling fists. He looked away, as if that might stop the ache clawing at his chest.
"Let the feast begin!" the king announced.
The music swelled. Dancers filled the floor. Guests feasted, laughed, and reveled under the golden chandeliers.
A while later…
Lilian sat gracefully in an ornate chair, surrounded by doting maids, her hand resting gently on her stomach. Her expression was calm, but distant.
At a far corner, Aeron stood discreetly, eyes locked on her. Inside the trolley, Allesio crouched low, tense.
"How do we get to her?" Aeron whispered, barely audible.
"Don't even think about that," a deep voice growled behind him.
Aeron jumped, startled. "What the—When did you get here?" he hissed.
Aamon smirked. "Did I scare you? My bad."
He leaned closer, voice cold. "Our deal was simple: you get to see her. That's it. Now we're even."
"You should leave now… before I decide to turn you in."
Aeron clenched his jaw. "If we leave now, it'll draw attention."
"Fair enough," Aamon said with a shrug. "Just don't do anything stupid."
With that, he turned and vanished into the crowd.
Aeron muttered under his breath, "There's no way we're leaving without Allesio talking to her…"
Moments later…
"This is for you," Aeron said, holding out a glass as he approached Lilian.
The maids immediately stepped forward, blocking him protectively.
"It's alright," Lilian said softly, her voice gentle.
The maids hesitated, then stepped aside.
"I can't drink alcohol," Lilian said with a faint smile.
"It's not," Aeron replied. "It's made from papaya and dates. Good for nutrition… and the baby."
Lilian's expression softened. "I really appreciate that," she said, taking the glass.
"My lady, should we test it first?" one of the maids asked.
"It's fine," Lilian said with a nod. She sipped the drink. "Mmm… It's really good. Did you make this?"
"Yes," Aeron answered with a smile.
As she brought the glass to her lips again, Aeron took a subtle step back and "accidentally" bumped into a maid, sending her stumbling forward.
The juice spilled across Lilian's dress.
"I'm so sorry, my lady!" the maid gasped. "Let us clean that at once!"
Two maids dropped to clean the floor. Two others helped Lilian to her feet, ushering her toward the inner palace to change.
Aeron followed, slipping away behind them.
The palace halls were quiet. Far from the noise of the ballroom, the guards were fewer, the corridors dimly lit by flickering sconces.
Aeron and Allesio acted quickly, pricking the maids with tiny needles laced with a sleep-inducing herb. They collapsed silently.
"Who's there?" Lilian's voice rang out, wary and alert.
"It's me," Allesio replied from the shadows.
Lilian froze. Her breath caught in her throat. "Is that… you?"
He stepped into the faint light. His eyes were trying to say something. His expression, shattered.
Lilian's lips trembled. She fought back the tears rising in her eyes, trying to mask her emotions with anger.
"Why are you here?" she asked, voice sharp but faltering.
"I was passing through," Allesio said, forcing a half-smile. "Thought I'd drop by."
"They'll kill you if they find you here," she snapped, her fists clenched at her sides.
"I just wanted to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you," she whispered, her voice breaking despite herself. "Now go—before anyone finds out."
Allesio didn't argue. He only nodded, eyes hollow, and turned away without another word.
Aeron paused. He looked back at Lilian.
Her eyes met his—full of sadness, love, regret. A silent plea passed between them. "Please… take care of him."
Aeron gave a solemn nod. Then turned, walking away beside Allesio, both of their faces weighed down with heartbreak.