The silence was suffocating.
Lysandra's heart pounded as King Aldric slowly turned to face them. His golden eyes gleamed, no longer filled with the wrath of a fallen king, but with something even worse—satisfaction.
Jael was frozen beside her, his hands clenched into fists. The lifeless form of the heir lay sprawled across the marble steps, mist dissipating into the night air like a dying breath.
Lysandra swallowed hard. Something was wrong.
Aldric had broken free of his chains, had crushed the heir beneath his power—and now, there was no one left to stand in his way.
The King's True Face
The king's lips curved into a slow smile. "You look surprised."
Lysandra forced herself to breathe. "You—you killed him."
Aldric tilted his head, as if amused. "Did I? Or did I simply remove an obstacle?"
Jael finally found his voice. "He was your son." His words were barely above a whisper, raw and disbelieving.
The king's expression didn't waver. "And?"
Lysandra's blood ran cold.
Jael took a step forward, his body trembling. "You—you weren't supposed to win. We were supposed to break the curse, not give you the throne."
Aldric laughed.
A deep, bone-chilling laugh.
"Oh, my son." He spread his arms wide, as if embracing the very city itself. "The throne was always mine. I simply had to wait for you to hand it back to me."
Jael staggered back.
Lysandra felt a knot tighten in her stomach. They had been played.
From the very beginning, the heir wasn't the true enemy—Aldric was.
A Power Too Great
Aldric descended the marble steps, his golden robes swirling like liquid fire. "For years, I was bound in chains, trapped while that wretched boy paraded around in my place, pretending to be king. But curses, you see… they are fragile things. All it takes is a single crack—" his golden eyes locked onto Lysandra "—and they shatter."
Lysandra's breath caught.
The crack was her.
Her presence, her curse, her very existence had weakened the ancient magic binding Aldric. And with the heir dead… nothing remained to stop him.
She had freed a monster.
Aldric turned to the cursed civilians—now freed from the mist's grasp. "You have all suffered," he said smoothly. "For years, you have been bound to my son's weak rule. But now—" he lifted his hands, and golden energy crackled around him "—I have returned to restore order."
The civilians, too dazed to think, simply stared.
Lysandra could see the fear in their eyes.
Jael took another step back, his expression crumbling. "What have we done?"
Aldric exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his gaze landed on Jael.
Then—he smiled.
"You have done exactly what I needed, my son."
Jael froze.
Aldric stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on Jael's shoulder. "I knew you wouldn't trust me if I asked for help. But if you believed you were fighting against a villain… well, I knew you would do anything to stop him." His fingers tightened.
Jael's breath hitched.
Lysandra could barely process what she was hearing.
He had manipulated them. All of them.
They had been fighting the wrong war.
The Escape
Lysandra's instincts screamed at her to run.
Aldric was too powerful. He had broken free of his prison without effort. The mist had obeyed him without hesitation. And Jael—Jael had been his pawn all along.
They had to get out. Now.
She grabbed Jael's arm. "We have to leave."
Jael didn't move.
His father was still speaking, voice smooth like poisoned honey. "You and I will rule together, Jael. You will stand beside me, and we will build an empire stronger than before. The gods themselves will bow to us."
Lysandra yanked Jael harder. "Jael! We need to go!"
He finally snapped out of it, his body jerking as if waking from a trance.
Aldric's golden gaze flicked to Lysandra.
"You're not going anywhere."
A wave of golden energy exploded toward them.
Lysandra barely had time to react. She threw herself to the side, dragging Jael with her. The force of the blast shattered the palace steps behind them, sending debris flying into the night.
Civilians screamed.
Lysandra didn't look back.
She grabbed Jael's wrist and ran.