I let my consciousness drift as the warm stream of water cascaded down my body. The steam blurred the edges of the bathroom, turning everything into a hazy blur, as if the world itself had softened around me.
Slowly, unknowingly, I began to fall asleep. My mind wandered into the realm of thoughts, slipping deeper into the void.
At first, there was serenity. A calming nothingness surrounded me, vast and infinite. There were no sounds, no sights—only a profound stillness that blanketed everything in peace.
It felt like I belonged there, nestled within the quiet folds of nonexistence. A part of me yearned to stay in that eternal calm.
A tremendous burst—an eruption of presence. 'Something' forced its way into my sanctuary of peace, like a violent flame tearing through the fabric of silence. It brought with it creation, sound, light, motion. Everything that I had learned to loathe in that perfect, peaceful void.
Hatred filled me. Raw, unfiltered, and overpowering. A primal urge to destroy surged within me—to annihilate that 'something' and reclaim my stillness.
Without warning, my fist lashed out in a fury of instinct.
My knuckles slammed against the bathroom wall with a deafening crack. The marble surface fractured violently, a deep spiderweb of cracks spreading out from the point of impact. Blood trickled from my fist, hot and bright crimson, staining the pristine tiles.
It snapped me out of my trance.
I stood there, breathing heavily, blood dripping down my fingers, my mind slowly clearing.
"Why did I think about that?" I muttered to myself.
It was so sudden, so irrational. The thought—no, the feeling—had emerged from nowhere. I couldn't place it. There was no trigger, no memory to explain the fury that had consumed me.
I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. "Must've just been something random," I whispered, though doubt lingered.
I turned off the shower, dried myself quickly, and changed into the black formal attire I had picked out earlier. The fabric was smooth and comfortable, the silver embellishments giving the ensemble a refined flair. The moment I stepped outside, I found Lucian waiting just outside the door.
He was dressed to kill—regal in every sense. His robe was a rich blend of violet and gold, embroidered with intricate patterns that shimmered under the hallway lights.
Lucian gave me an approving once-over. "Very good," he said with a nod. "This color suits you."
He gave my back a hearty pat before snapping his fingers.
A flickering portal materialized in front of us—translucent, spiraling with threads of bluish light.
I blinked, taken aback by the suddenness. "Wait, what about Mom and Mia? Are they not coming with us?"
Lucian shrugged nonchalantly. "No. Isolde had some business to handle, and Mia, well... she doesn't do banquets."
I nodded. That checked out. Mia hated social gatherings. Chronically shy and as introverted as they came.
Lucian swept his arm toward the portal with an exaggerated bow. "After you, my dear son."
I rolled my eyes but stepped through the portal first.
For a fleeting moment, I felt weightless, as if space itself twisted and folded around me. Then—
I landed on the other side, in a hallway unlike anything I had seen.
Majestic pillars rose high above, their white and black marble catching the light in delicate contrast. The walls gleamed with crystal lanterns, and the floor stretched endlessly beneath my feet. People—hundreds of them—were gathered here, nobles from every corner of the empire.
Their clothing was lavish, their demeanor refined. Every movement, every word carried a sense of pride and power.
Lucian stepped out behind me, brushing off imaginary dust from his shoulder.
He nudged me with a sly grin. "See? A gathering of elites from every province. And—" he waggled his brows, "—especially beauties."
I gave him a deadpan stare. "One, I hate social gatherings. Two, I'm going to snitch on you to Mom."
His face paled instantly. He coughed. "No need to waste your breath, my sweet child. I was, uh... scouting for you."
"Right," I said, unimpressed.
Before I could retort, two figures approached us. The first was a tall man with a commanding presence—broad shoulders, sapphire eyes, and a mane of golden hair. Beside him was a graceful woman with flowing blonde hair and serene green eyes.
Their clothes sparkled with authority. Their presence was undeniable.
The King pulled Lucian into a warm hug, patting him heartily on the back. "It's been ages, Lucian. Have you forgotten your friends?"
Lucian laughed, dramatically leaning away. "I've been handling... personal matters."
The King smirked. "Let me guess—some mystery child appeared out of nowhere?"
I nearly choked. 'He hit the nail on the head in one shot... Best friend, confirmed.'
The Queen, ever observant, tried to catch the details of their conversation but was met with nothing but low whispers and smirks.
Lucian turned to me. "Go on. Mingle with the young nobles. Your father's got royal business."
Before I could object, he dragged the King off into the crowd, vanishing among the flood of guests.
Left alone, I sighed inwardly. "Now I've got to deal with a bunch of arrogant brats. Perfect."
A soft touch on my shoulder made me flinch.
I turned and saw the Queen standing beside me, her eyes filled with gentle concern.
"You all right, Cassius? You seem... different tonight."
I gave a small shake of my head. "Just some lingering effects from a duel earlier."
Her eyes widened. "A duel? That's not like you. What happened?"
I waved off the concern. "It's nothing serious. The guy just pissed me off."
She smiled, amused. "That's new. Well, Art's been waiting for you. You should go find him."
'Art?' I echoed inwardly. 'The Crown Prince?'
I didn't even have time to process that thought when—
Someone slammed into me from behind, and I went crashing face-first into the marble floor.
Groaning, I scrambled up, my palms stinging, and turned sharply to see who the hell had just knocked me over.
My glare locked onto the culprit.
A smirking young boy, with striking green eyes and golden blonde hair—Art.
Sprawled on the ground like me.