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My son.

I haven’t been his son since the day he forced me to train, kill, and destroy. It’s why I made a point to never be referred to by my title. No, Prince Emyreus Alastair II of Zulgalros ceased to exist after he released me on Malvoria like the weapon of destruction he hoped I’d become.

I haven’t considered him to be my father in years, because no loving father would’ve subjected a son to such torment.

A caring father wouldn’t beat kindness and compassion out of their child because they wouldn’t view such attributes as a weakness.

A compassionate father would have listened to their son’s pleas to stop when they’d gone too far with their cruelty of others.

A proud father would’ve stood tall on the cusp of their son’s accomplishments—not just the ones that end in death .

As a young boy, I remember the moments when Tiernan was a devoted husband, a loving father, and a wise king. He was compassionate toward his people, and he laughed often.

I think that might be the part of him I miss the most.

When my mother died, a piece of him died as well. He became so self-absorbed and paranoid, listening to the dark whispers from the Abyss rather than helping me through my own grief. He became colder and more distant, often leaving me alone to wander the palace.

Once my ability manifested at eleven, it was the strongest display any Galrosan had seen in centuries before the aging ceases at twenty-five. Much like Malvorians, a Galrosan’s ability doesn’t fully become accessible until then, yet I could access mine in its entirety.

“ He’s the pride of Zulgalros,” the priest had declared.

I believe that was the moment something snapped in him because my training began slowly after that, accelerating once I was fourteen.

The father I knew isn’t the king that now stands before me.

Only now, when he’s proud that I succeeded, does he call me son .

I should scream at him, but it wouldn’t end well for me, as his punishments intensify with each one given.

So, I keep my mouth shut and bow once more.

“I’ve brought the Dragon’s Flame to you, my king,” I reply, hoping that my disgust doesn’t reflect in my tone.

“Rise,” he commands. “You’ve done well, Emyreus.”

I bite my tongue.

His sharp eyes search behind me, dulling slightly.

“Where is our special guest?” he asks.

“The maids have taken her to rest after our expedited journey,” I reply.

“How fortunate it is to have you return to us so swiftly,” he says, unphased. “Is there any particular reason for the early arrival?”

“As if you don’t know,” I retort, my temper slipping. “The ancient basilisk appeared in Delerauh, leveling it.”

Tiernan cuts a glance back at Domhnall, who freakishly hasn’t moved from his spot .

“I thought I informed you that the basilisk would question her AFTER she arrived here, Domhnall,” Tiernan states.

“Apologiesssss ssssire. I misssssunderssstood. A grave error on my partttt,” the urchin hisses.

“Indeed,” Tiernan snarls, turning back to me. “A miscalculation. However, seeing as none of you are dead, I assume the basilisk found her worthy. I’m quite curious about what he said to our little prize. Anything of use to report?”

“What is it that you desire?” I scoff. “She’s suffered greatly, my king.”

A cruel smile curls across his lips. “It’s delightful to watch the Malvorian wretches suffer, isn’t it?” he asks. “We suffered greatly because of their rulers, didn’t we?”

“Yes, Sire,” I reply, bile rising in my throat.

“Yet no one cared for us in our weakness. Why should we care how they suffer? I’ve given them jobs and freedom from their oppression of the light, thanks to you, my son. Am I not a kinder ruler than the ones they put their faith in?” he says coolly.

“Of course, my king,” I reply.

Everything in me wishes to tell him how I find him cruel and wicked. How I hate that he forced me to bring Maeva to him, but I know that if I do, they’ll be the last words I ever voice aloud. I refuse to leave the Cadre or Maeva alone in his “care.”

“That’s my boy,” he replies. “You know what you must do in regards to her, Emyreus. All the other tantalizing details will be revealed in due time. Now, tell me what it is that you heard.”

I remain silent.

Something tells me he already knows about the prophecy. If that is the case, why would he desire for me to repeat what he already knows?

Unless he doesn’t know… in which case, could finding out cause him to drift even further into madness?

After a moment, the ring on Tiernan’s left hand illuminates, and I feel the tug on my chest where the branded “L” lies.

“Now, now, High General,” he soothes.

No longer his son, now that I refuse to answer.

He’s already back to using the only title that matters to him.

“What have you learned?” he whispers.

My mind fights against the command. I want to keep my mouth shut, but the longer I fight against it, the greater the desire is to spill my secrets. My mind is drawn to the one Maeva entrusted to me…

No !

I’ll keep my word to her… as long he doesn’t ask about it directly.

“I’m waiting, High General,” he coos, his voice silkier than usual.

“Thebasilisktoldheraboutaprophecy,” I yell as the words pour out of me in one breath.

The king breathes deeply, rubbing a hand down his face. “Tell me the prophecy,” he demands.

“It’s the one about the two kings,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Don’t be coy, General… tell me the entire prophecy,” he says.

“Two kings destined for the same throne, but only the one bound to the kindred heart’s sins will be atoned.

Beware the one of the severed soul, for his reign ends in blight.

The Na Fíréin can only rise when the hidden truth is brought forth to the light.

The truth shall only be revealed once the path to salvation or ruin is sealed,” I recite, unsure of how I managed to remember it all.

A glimmer washes over Tiernan’s features that I’ve never seen before. However, it’s gone as quickly as it surfaced. Clenching his jaw, he offers a wicked smile.

“Wonderful,” he coos. “Our prize is indeed worthy of such knowledge. How marvelous… and what of her starlight ability? Does she wield it well?”

“I only saw her offer a piece of it to the basilisk, but she didn’t fully wield it. The small portion I did witness felt powerful, my king, but she’s still weak,” I reply.

Instantly, the pain in my chest lessens, and I struggle to catch my breath .

He turns to Domhnall. “Make all the preparations to move up the Masquerade of Shadows to the day after next. This is a cause for celebration, as the one to awaken the Na Fíréin has arrived at last,” he says cheerfully.

“Yessssssss, sssiree,” Domhnall replies.

Then, like a vapor, he vanishes from the study.

Tiernan returns his dark gaze to me. “Go,” he commands. “Rest for now. I expect you to bring her to the throne room by midday tomorrow. Orla will be in attendance as well.”

Orla .

The duchess took my mother’s place as Tiernan’s consort three years after her death.

Her heritage is both Galrosan and Briezien.

She’s as beautiful as she is vicious and certifiably insane—a perfect match to Tiernan’s paranoia.

She’s been locked in confinement for the last eight months after her last tantrum, during which she decapitated four of her maids, all for bringing her the wrong dress shade.

She must’ve whispered sweet nothings to the king again in order to be back in his good graces.

Either way, the thought of Maeva being alone in a room with either of them causes my skin to crawl.

“Of course, my king,” I say, bowing low.

Without another word, I leave the study and head straight for my quarters on the other side of the palace. I consider checking in on Maeva, but decide against it, as it would only draw Tiernan’s attention. Perhaps I can go once it’s the evening hours, I’m sure she’s resting at the moment anyway.

After slipping into my chambers, I’m relieved when I remove my armor and wash all the grime of the last few days away.

I can barely keep my eyes open by the time I jump into my bed.

The toll of the journey settles heavily into my bones.

As I drift off to sleep, I think of Maeva: the sound of her laughter, the way her hair flows in the wind, the feel of her hand in mine, and how, for a brief moment, she smiled at me.

For once, the screams of those I’ve ended don’t plague my slumber because I only hear her.

For once, I don’t loathe my dreams.