(Far away in the Verona Capital, Varenthal City)
A young white-haired woman sprinted through the Verona palace corridors, dodging staff as an older maid screamed out. ''Princess Sarah! Slow down, or you'll hurt yourself.''
''Sorry, Gwen!'' I called back, rushing to my father after hearing the palace gossip. How has brother Arthur changed so suddenly?
Following that, I didn't stop until I reached the council meeting room as the Royal Guards pushed the doors open. Once inside, I saw Rodric, the crown prince, sitting next to Father, King Ragnar Verona, alongside Mother, Bella, and Seraphina. Draven, the second prince, was at the end, but my other siblings were nowhere to be seen.
When they noticed me, the king beamed. ''Come here, my eldest daughter! Take a seat, Cassian has some news for us,'' he happily said.
''Yes, father,'' I replied, sitting down as my other mother, Seraphina, beamed at me.
''Hello, how are your studies?'' she questioned, looking curious. ''Still stuck on the duality of the two elements?''
''Good, I'm almost reaching Second Circle,'' I answered. ''My tutors believe I could advance if I pass the next test, and no, I worked it out with Mother's help.''
Seraphina was about to continue, but Rodric interrupted her. ''Unlike Arthur. Seems he won't be a mage at all, indolence has that effect. It's good because he'd be lazy and would tarnish our name even more than he already has.''
I watched as Seraphina's gaze snapped onto him. ''Stop saying such things, Rodric! He's changing, we've all heard the rumours!''
''That's all they are, mother, rumours,'' Draven, the second prince, added. ''How can he go from weighing the size of a small Plains Bull to being like Uncle Victor? An accomplished Monster Hunter.''
Before anyone could respond, Cassian, the king's advisor and butler, stepped forward, his expression unusually tense. The older man cleared his throat, and everyone fell silent. ''Your Majesty,'' he said, inclining his head to Father before glancing at the rest of us. ''The rumours are… understated.''
Rodric scoffed softly. ''Understated? About Arthur?''
Cassian's gaze flicked to him, cool, measured. ''Yes.''
I felt my jaw tighten. Father leaned forward, elbows resting on the armrests of the throne. ''Explain.''
Cassian drew a breath. ''For the past year and a half, Prince Arthur has been training with Garrick and Lady Selene Rothvayne. Daily. Before dawn and after dusk. Physical conditioning, weapons drills, despite his lack of talent.''
That made my fingers curl in my lap. ''He dismissed the palace chefs,'' Cassian continued, ''and is eating meat alongside healthier foods. He requested no servants during training hours to not distract himself.''
The words hit the room like a dropped goblet. ''What?'' Bella whispered.
Rodric laughed outright. ''You're joking.''
''I am not,'' Cassian replied calmly. ''He no longer resembles the Arthur you remember. Many reports have drifted in saying he has earned the respect of the soldiers, Lord Garrick and Lady Selene.''
An image surfaced in my mind uninvited, Arthur as he'd always been and bloated, sweating, wheezing after climbing a flight of stairs. A stain on the royal name. I hated that my chest felt tight. Seraphina's hand flew to her mouth. ''He did all of that alone?''
''Yes, Your Grace.''
Draven frowned. ''Why hide it?''
Cassian hesitated for a moment. ''He did not wish to be bothered, but Garrick sent us updates as your majesty requested.''
I looked up sharply. ''What?''
Seconds later, Cassian turned to face me fully then. His eyes were calm and steady, carrying the faint shadow of an apology. ''The prince was sent west,'' he said quietly. ''And refuses to return until everything has changed.''
The room exploded. Seraphina surged halfway out of her seat, bright blue eyes flashing with fury. Her aura flared outward in a sudden, searing wave, raw power that pressed against my chest and forced me to swallow hard. I forgot she's a Tenth Circle Mage! Father is twelfth, so it's not a surprise.
She stared straight at her father. ''Ragnar.''
Father raised one hand. The single gesture was enough, and the room fell silent instantly, deathly silent. His gaze never wavered from Cassian. ''Where is he going?''
''To the E-Ranked Hollowend Dungeon outside Riverrun,'' the older man revealed, looking nervous.
My breath caught, the beginner dungeon in the Duchy of Ravencourt. The one nobles used to test fresh knights and newly awakened mages. Still dangerous for someone soft like Arthur. ''For what purpose?'' Father asked.
Cassian's voice was quiet when he answered. ''To fight monsters. Alone, if necessary. It was his choice, even though both Garrick and Lady Selene offered to go with him.''
The room froze. My lip twitched once, then I was on my feet. ''That's insane,'' I burst out. ''He's never thrown a real punch in his life. They'll tear him apart in there.''
Well, that would get him out of the way.
Cassian nodded. ''That was true. It is no longer; all the reports indicate that the prince has drastically improved to the point that the guards are willing to delve into dungeons to help.''
Rodric slammed a fist against the arm of his chair. ''This is a farce. Is he trying to play hero now? After years of shame?''
I said nothing, but inside, something ugly twisted. So that was it. Arthur loses weight, swings a sword a few times, and suddenly, he thinks he can crawl through dungeons like the rest of us? Like he can erase years of embarrassment with a bit of sweat and dirt? Pathetic, especially since he's the third prince.
''And when does he plan to do this?'' Father asked.
Cassian met his eyes. ''Tomorrow morning, according to the letter.''
Seraphina gasped. I noticed the concern in her eyes. I don't blame her; my brother is her eldest child. Father stood slowly, power rolling off him in quiet waves. ''He didn't ask for my permission.''
I watched Cassian, who had served our house for many decades, hesitate again before speaking. ''He doesn't need it,'' he told Father. ''From the Guild. From Garrick. He thinks he's ready to face the world.''
The words landed like wet cloth against stone. Silence followed. Heat climbed behind my eyes, not worry, not fear. Pure, familiar anger. Arthur, creeping through shadows. Training in secret. Visiting the Guild. Stepping into a dungeon. Trying to become something else, is he even the same brother?
I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached and forced my expression blank, even as the old, bitter thought rose anyway: If he truly believes he can be more... the dungeon will remind him exactly who he is. Father leaned back against his chair, fingers steepled, face carved from granite.
''You're all reacting as though this happened behind my back,'' he said.
The room went still. Seraphina turned slowly. ''Husband…?''
''I knew,'' I heard the king say, voice level, almost bored. ''I allowed it. More than that, I arranged it.''
Rodric's head snapped up, looking pleased. ''You sent him away?''
I spoke before anyone else could, knowing I had my Father wrapped around my finger. ''I suggested it and Father agreed. Arthur caused too many problems with his behaviour.''
The admission dropped into the silence like a blade between stones. Seraphina's eyes found mine, wide and wounded. ''Please tell me this isn't true?''
''We sent him west,'' I repeated, calm, unhurried. ''To Riverun. To get him out of the way.''
The words felt good in my mouth, clean, final. Father's gaze flicked to me, neither approving nor surprised. He nodded once, as if I'd finally said something worth hearing. ''The court was laughing at us,'' I continued. ''Every council session began with the same tired jests. The weakling prince. The late-blooming embarrassment. Whispers in every corridor. I grew tired of it.''
My voice stayed even. ''Riverun is far enough from Varanthal that failure would be quiet. And if he actually changed,'' I let the sentence hang. ''Then at least he'd return useful instead of ridiculous.''
Seraphina stood abruptly, hands trembling at her sides. ''You sent my son away to be broken?''
Father met her gaze without blinking. ''I sent him away so he would stop being our problem.''
The truth settled over the room like frost. Riverun. Mud streets. Mercenaries. Monsters. No silk, no titles, no safety nets. A place where inconvenient nobles went to vanish. Rodric gave a short, bitter laugh. ''So all of it, the training, the dungeon, the Lion Guards tagging along, was never about giving him a chance?''
''No,'' the king said. ''It was about resolution. One way or the other.''
Arthur hadn't been sent away because he was dangerous. He'd been sent away because he was embarrassing. Inconvenient. A crack in the family armour. The dungeon would either grind that crack smooth or swallow him whole. If he crawled back broken, Father's decision and mine would be proven right. If he didn't come back at all.
I pushed the thought down, cool and steady. Either way, he would no longer be my concern. And that, more than anything else, felt like justice.
***
(Lily's POV)
How has the prince changed so much?
I watched the man I hated so much become someone completely different. He's polite, honest, and decent. When thinking about that, I shook my head to clear the stupid thoughts. The prince hadn't changed in the slightest, and it was all an act to put me at ease. He was sitting with one of the guards, drinking some ale.
They were chatting about the Northern Wars that the men fought five years back. Arthur was focused as the Legionnaire told him stories about the Siege of Mountholm and how the king destroyed the magic gates, allowing the Legions to pour in and slaughter all the crazy Necromancer followers.
His smile caught me off guard, stirring something deep and forgotten inside me, only for me to crush it instantly, the memory of every cruelty he'd inflicted still too raw, too fresh. Across the courtyard, I noticed Lady Selene watching him. Her eyes held an emotion I couldn't quite name, something soft, hungry, and complicated all at once.
When my gaze returned to the prince, I really saw him. The excess weight was gone, burned away by merciless training and rebuilt by the healers after each punishing session. What remained was lean, hard strength, broad shoulders, corded arms, the kind of powerful yet controlled build you'd find in the Monster Hunter novels.
Not grotesquely bulky, just commanding. Enough to make the other maids flush and whisper and giggle behind their hands. I didn't understand it. Or maybe I didn't want to. While standing there, a voice sounded from behind me. ''Your hate is clear to see; you have many of the Legionnaires and Lions worried that you'll attack the prince.''
''No, Garrick,'' I replied, turning to see the older man who had pushed the prince past his limits. ''I take my job seriously and wouldn't harm him. You seem to forget my mother is kept in this palace.''
''Doesn't matter,'' he countered. ''That isn't the same boy who tormented you, Lily. He's someone different, someone who wants to make amends for what he's done.''
I looked up into his dark eyes as he continued. ''Told me many times that he hates himself for the way he treated 'someone like you'.''
''Huh?''
Garrick laughed as he nodded. ''Ahriman help me, give him a chance without the hate, and you'll see the change everyone here does.''
''Not after how he made me beg while he starved me or threatened to kill my parents if I didn't warm his bed!''
The older man was taken aback as I carried on. ''Luckily, Queen Seraphina interrupted and scolded him; he never tried it again, but the torment got worse.''
Garrick sighed. ''I understand, he mistreated a lot of people, including myself. I'm not asking you to forgive him. See if the man he's becoming is worth hating as much as the boy he was.''
I stole a glance at the old man, unwilling to dwell on whatever lay behind his shadowed expression. Turning away, I followed Arthur as he made his way back toward the manor. The Legionnaires called quiet farewells behind us as the heavy doors closed. I said nothing; my silence followed me like a second shadow.
When he stepped into his quarters and began loosening his collar, I slipped through the doorway. The knife slid smoothly from my sleeve into my palm. He turned at the soft click of the latch. The moment he saw me lunge, he froze, too late. A Fourth Circle assassin moves in two heartbeats.
I had him pinned against the bedpost, the razor edge of my blade kissing the skin beneath his jaw. But then I saw his eyes. Not fear. Not anger. Just… sorrow. Deep, quiet, and utterly disarming. His voice came out soft, almost broken. ''I'm sorry, Lily,'' he whispered. ''For the way the old me treated you. I was a scumbag and an idiot for everything.''
The words landed harder than any counterstrike ever could. My grip on the knife faltered for the first time in years.