Silence fell across the room.

Uncle? The word didn’t make sense and for a moment, Ruelle thought she had misheard.

Hermes, beside the king, looked momentarily caught off guard, while Edward huffed, demanding, "Who are you calling uncle? Have you lost your mind? That’s King Septimus to you."

And when King Septimus did not deny it, Edward’s expression turned to disbelief.

"Beloved?" the king echoed softly, testing the word on his tongue. "I was not aware you had taken one. And yet... she remains unclaimed."

"She won’t remain so," Lucian answered, his voice low as his gaze held the king’s without flinching.

The king regarded him, a faint trace of amusement settling in his eyes. He murmured, "You would do well to remember the last time you chose so decisively. It did not end well for you."

Lucian’s head tipped slightly and he remarked, "You didn’t look displeased."

King Septimus noticed how Lucian looked calmer than the first time they had met. His thoughts went to the past.

"Prince Caleb has settled in Sexton, and he has been doing well," Hermes informed while standing at the bath with his hands folded. "About Prince Edward, the governess has arrived but they do not appear to suit one another," he frowned.

King Septimus remained as he was in the bathtub, the faintest hum leaving him while his eyes were closed. He ordered,

"Then attend to it. Another pair of eyes may prove necessary."

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Hermes bowed before straightening and informed, "Also, you have a visitor today."

"I was under the impression I would not be receiving visitors today. Have them return tomorrow," the king said, his tone unhurried. When the attendant did not move, his eyes opened slightly and he questioned, "Must I repeat myself?"

Hermes hesitated before he apologised, "Forgive me, Your Majesty. It is Lord Slater. He insists the matter is urgent."

At the name, King Septimus’ eyes opened and a flicker of interest settled in his eyes. He asked,

"Why was I not told sooner?"

He rose from the bath in one smooth motion, water slipping from his skin as attendants hurried forward. A robe was drawn over his shoulders, fastened without delay. Moments later, dressed, the king stepped into the hall.

He found Azriel Slater standing by the window, his gaze fixed beyond the glass, unmoving. The air around the lord appeared heavier than usual. The two men did not acknowledge one another as kin and the person that existed between them had long been left to memory.

Irina had never made the castle her home. She lived away from it, far enough that people were left unaware of her connection to the royal family.

"How curious to have you here," King Septimus said while dismissing Hermes from there.

Lord Azriel turned to the king, offering a slight bow. "I have come to ask something of you."

King Septimus’s eyebrows rose. He replied, "And here I thought you did not come unless you wanted to defeat me in another round of sword fights. What is it?"

Whatever Azriel said next, it had King Septimus’s expression move to surprise.

Not a minute later, the carriage was prepared and moments later, they left the castle.

The carriage arrived at the courthouse before coming to a halt. A minister stationed near the entrance caught sight of two men and stiffened. Without a word, the minister turned and quickly went to call for the elder minister.

Lord Azriel led the way down into the dungeon and the king followed.

Their footsteps echoed through the dim-lit corridor, where several cells stood behind iron bars. They did not stop until the last one.

When King Septimus’s gaze shifted past the bars, he expected a fear-filled boy whose judgement had already been passed. Instead, he found the boy standing with an aloof expression. The boy looked around thirteen and he stared right back at him, almost detached. Blood stained the boy’s face and his clothes were soaked through with it. But the blood didn’t belong to him, the scent belonged to humans.

Something flickered in the king’s gaze as he looked upon the boy. He said softly,

"My... A pity he resembles you, Azriel."

"My sons are handsome," Lord Azriel stated, his eyes resting on his son.

King Septimus let out a low chuckle.

"Have you grown so weak, Azriel, that you cannot open a cell?" he said lightly, reaching for the iron bars. The moment his fingers brushed them, a sharp current snapped through his hand. He murmured, "Charms. How inventive."

"If the Elder Minister does not reconsider, I will have no choice but to see him put down," Lord Azriel replied calmly, his composure barely changing. "The charm will not lift until he does."

"It seems you have already decided if I don’t help," King Septimus murmured. His body dissolved into mist and slipped through the iron bars, before his body returned to its original form.

The king stood before the boy and questioned, "Do you know who I am?"

"Is it important?" Lucian asked, and a faint smile touched the king’s lips.

King Septimus sat on his heels, levelling himself to the boy’s gaze. He said, "It is. I am your uncle, and I am going to get you out of here as a favour for killing those wretched beings. But before that..."

The next second, King Septimus’s fist came at Lucian, but the boy dodged it before glaring at the king. The king didn’t stop. In the blink of an eye, his had morphed into pointed metal which was aimed at the boy’s eye. But before it could pierce through, something slipped out of the boy, like a dark smoke that coiled around the metal, tightening, resisting the blow before it could reach the Lucian.

"I have not seen anything like this before," King Septimus looked fascinated and the metal vanished. But it was only for a second before it reappeared, sharply driving into the boy’s shoulder.

Lucian flinched, before the black tendrils straightened into black spikes, violent and sudden, lashing toward the king— 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

But Septimus was no longer there as he stood beyond the bars, wearing a look of interest.

The corridors soon echoed with footsteps that grew closer and heavier. Soon the elder minister appeared along with three other ministers.

"Your Majesty," they bowed in unison. A brief pause followed before one of them spoke.

"To what do we owe your presence?"

"I was told an innocent boy was to be beheaded. So I thought I might see it for myself," King Septimus said, glancing at Lucian, who glared at him.

"Thirty-one humans and four halflings were slaughtered in broad daylight, Your Majesty," one of the ministers said. "The matter is not the number alone. The boy’s heart is corrupted. You are aware what becomes of them and he’s already going berserk. Even if Lord Azriel claims the corruption has not yet fused... it will not remain so."

"Have you examined his blood for traces of corruption?" King Septimus questioned.

"We have, Your Majesty," another minister replied. "The results were... irregular. Very different."

"Your ignorance does not make him dangerous, Minister," Lord Azriel said, his tone low.

The minister looked offended and suggested, "We may keep him confined a while longer—"

Lord Azriel’s eyes darkened in anger and the minister turned nervous. The lord spoke, "My son is not an animal to be caged at your convenience. Nothing has occurred to warrant this. The decision will be withdrawn."

"Lord Azriel, the decision was not made lightly. Corruption has never been halted. Whether it takes hold swiftly or slowly, it always consumes, and it is an unfortunate thing," the elder minister said as his brows furrowed and his lips set in a thin line.

The ministers hesitated while their gazes shifted between the king and Lord Azriel. They didn’t know that they were close.

The king let out a sigh, which had the ministers turn to him. He said lightly,

"Ministers. One might almost think you are suggesting those of us who possess certain gifts should be put down." A faint smile touched his lips before he continued, "I would be displeased to discover such a sentiment taking root without my knowledge."

"Lucian’s ability manifested late," Lord Azriel added.

"I find myself inclined to agree with Lord Azriel," King Septimus said, a thoughtful hum following. "There are those whose gifts do not reveal themselves at once. Some arrive late, such as mine."

King Septimus’s eyes moved across the ministers’ faces. He continued to speak, "Perhaps what you see is not corruption but something yet unrefined. It may yet be shaped. So release him now."

The elder minister’s expression tightened but he didn’t argue. With a sharp snap of his fingers, the current running through the iron bars stopped at once. A guard then stepped forward and unlocked the door.

Once they stepped outside and the ministers had withdrawn to their duties, Lord Azriel placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and turned to King Septimus.

"You have my thanks," Lord Azriel said, bowing his head and Lucian followed his father.

"I didn’t do it for you. It was for Irina. I know how much she loved her family. She was rather fond of her family in her letters," King Septimus said, before his gaze settled on the boy, who met his eyes. "You should come by the castle."

Lucian’s lips pressed into a faint line before he inclined his head and replied, "I will think about it."

"How cheeky," King Septimus murmured, the corner of his mouth lifting.

Back in the present, King Septimus wore a look of amusement at the memory. His head tilted before he stated, "A claim without proof carries little weight. Especially when you are talking about a person who belongs to Sexton, Lucian."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Edward stopped before any further conversation could go on which he didn’t understand. It was the first time he was hearing about it. "What is with this uncle part?"

"Lucian’s mother was my half-sister," King Septimus answered nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t dropped an earthquake on the room.

Edward looked like he went into shock. He whispered in horror, "This means we are... related?"

Ruelle felt Lucian’s grip loosen on her hand and in the same motion, his finger pulled down the diamond bracelet from her wrist. He walked straight to the king, stopping within reach as his hand slipped into his coat and came away with a rolled parchment.

"This should suffice," Lucian said, extending it.

The king took it and when his eyes moved through the contents, his eyebrow faintly rose before his eyes fell back on Ruelle.

Lucian did not look away. "Your signature is already upon it and it has been signed by the Elder minister," he said, his voice low and his eyes darkened. "See that she is not troubled again."

And he set the bracelet down.

Ruelle did not know what Lucian had handed the king, but whatever it was held his attention. King Septimus’ eyes stayed there in silence before a quiet chuckle escaped him.

When the king’s gaze turned back to her, her spine straightened.

"It seems I must bring my little diversion to an end here, Ruelle," King Septimus said, a trace of amusement lingering in his voice. "Still, you have been rather useful. Edward for all his faults, has never cared to look beyond himself. And yet, it appears he has found something or someone worth standing for at last. I had begun to wonder if that day would ever come."

"And here you are at the centre of it. I suppose I should be grateful... though I find myself rather inconvenienced by it," the king murmured, his words softer. "A pity. I had taken a certain liking to you."

Ruelle’s mouth fell open at how he said it as though nothing of consequence had truly occurred. He had terrorised her! Gathering courage, she spoke,

"Back in the castle... you beheaded the men."

"They stabbed Edward," King Septimus said as though that alone settled the matter.

Ruelle frowned, asking, "And Hermes’ toes?"

The king’s gaze shifted to Hermes before returning to her.

"He was tasked with keeping Edward out of trouble and he failed to do so. So he paid for it," he replied nonchalantly. He then turned to his son and said, "Ah, now that I think of it... did you know the treaty was first proposed with you and Ruelle in mind? Before it found its way to the Slaters." He let out a chuckle.

Treaty? Ruelle asked herself with a confused expression. Maybe for now she should be glad that the king wasn’t going to haunt her.

"You—" Edward stared at his father, disbelief finally catching up with him. Then he turned, striding over to Ruelle and catching her hand gently. The prince said earnestly,

"Ruelle, if you ever have a serious fight with Lucian... you come to me, alright? I will keep you happy."

In the next instant, Lucian’s hand found itself around her waist, pulling her back against him as her fingers slipped free from Edward’s hold.

"Don’t," Lucian said in a low voice, "There isn’t a version where she walks away—because I won’t let her."