The great hall of the palace was overflowing with voices.
Nobles, servants, priests, soldiers, and members of the royal household filled the vast chamber beneath towering columns and flickering lanterns. Conversations tangled together like threads of unease.
Everyone had heard the rumors. But no one yet knew the truth.
Prince Avana stood near one of the pillars, his expression tight with anxiety. Before he could gather his thoughts, his mother appeared beside him.
Lady Gema seized his wrist and dragged him toward a quieter corner.
Her face was pale.
"We're fucked," she whispered.
Avana blinked in alarm. "What happened?"
"Her sister knows."
For a moment he did not understand.
Then his eyes widened.
"The ritual?"
Gema nodded grimly.
Avana felt his stomach twist.
"That's impossible. No one outside the palace knows about it."
"Apparently someone does."
"Do you think someone told her?" he asked.
"I don't care how she found out," Gema hissed. "What matters is that she knows."
Avana ran a hand through his hair.
"We should inform the king."
Gema stared at him like he had just lost his mind.
"Are you insane, boy? This ritual has been performed for centuries without a single failure," she continued sharply. "If we go to the king now, the first question will be why it happened during our time."
Her voice grew colder.
"Do you remember the rumors when you were born?"
Avana looked away.
"Everyone said you were a bastard," she said bluntly. "They believed I carried another man's child before the king ever touched me."
Her jaw tightened.
"It was Tarula's vision that saved us. Without it, you would still be seen as an outsider."
Avana's voice lowered, "And now Tarula is dead."
"Yes." Gema's gaze hardened, "And that girl is a ticking bomb."
The noise in the hall suddenly quieted.
The king and queen had arrived.
King Bazi stepped forward, his presence instantly commanding silence.
"The head priest Tarula," he declared, his voice echoing through the chamber, "my friend and mentor, has passed away."
A murmur rippled across the hall.
"You may wonder why you have all been summoned here," the king continued.
His gaze swept across the crowd.
"Tarula did not die naturally."
A heavy silence fell.
"He was murdered."
Gasps broke out among the guests.
"Silence!" the king thundered.
The hall fell quiet again.
"Tarula knew everyone's secrets," he said slowly. "That is what made him invaluable. And it is also what makes every person in this room a suspect."
Uneasy glances spread throughout the hall.
"The dagger that slit his throat belonged to someone within these walls." His eyes burned with fury. "Until the killer is revealed, no one enters or leaves the palace."
The guards immediately moved toward the exits.
"If you have seen anything suspicious," the king continued, "send me a message. Anonymously if you must."
Then his voice hardened further.
"And to the murderer…"
The hall felt suddenly colder.
"You have chosen the worst possible time to kill a man." A pause. "You're next."
Without another word, the king turned and left the chamber with Queen Omuro beside him.
The noise returned immediately.
Avana leaned toward his mother again.
"I might have a solution."
Gema's eyes widened. "Tell me."
"You said the girl was seen embracing the king."
"Yes."
"What if the queen hears about it?"
Understanding flashed across Gema's face.
"The queen would never tolerate that," Avana continued quietly. "Especially from a commoner."
A slow smile crept onto Gema's lips.
"You're clever, my son."
She squeezed his arm.
"If the queen removes Kharivanpa…" Her smile sharpened. "Our problem disappears."
Without another word, she hurried away.
***