The corridors of Darkheart were silent.
Not truly silent.
Candles still burned.
Servants still moved.
Armor still echoed against stone.
But after Damian left the throne chamber...
something changed.
The castle had seen arguments before.
Kings and nobles fought constantly.
Power invited conflict.
Yet what happened moments ago felt different.
Because this was not politics.
It was blood.
And blood disputes carried shadows longer than war.
Damian walked through the corridor without destination.
His cloak dragged softly across black marble.
No servants followed.
No guards.
He had ordered them away.
For now...
he wanted distance.
Not protection.
Not company.
Distance.
His jaw remained tense.
The conversation with Fenrir repeated in his thoughts again and again.
You are not ready.
He hated those words.
Not because they insulted him.
But because they sounded practiced.
Prepared.
Like something his father had said to himself many times before.
That bothered him.
Damian stopped before a long window overlooking the northern gardens.
Rain had started again.
Thin silver lines beneath moonlight.
He looked outside.
His reflection stared back.
Crimson eyes.
Dark hair.
Calm expression.
Yet beneath that calm...
anger.
And something worse.
Disappointment.
His mother knew something.
His father knew more.
Sirius knew enough to stay silent.
And somehow...
he was the only one standing blind in the middle of his own life.
That realization sat badly inside him.
Then...
the reflection changed.
For less than a second.
Silver.
Damian froze.
The rain continued.
The corridor remained empty.
But the reflection...
smiled.
His pulse sharpened.
The smile vanished.
Crimson returned.
He narrowed his eyes.
No.
That was not imagination.
He had seen it.
Again.
The whisper followed.
Soft.
Near.
Wake.
His fingers clenched.
And this time...
he answered.
"Show yourself."
Silence.
Then...
footsteps.
Not supernatural.
Real.
Damian turned.
Lucian approached from the opposite corridor.
Alone.
As always.
The prince stared at him.
"You have excellent timing."
Lucian stopped a few meters away.
"You sound irritated."
"I wonder why."
Lucian studied him carefully.
"You argued with your father."
Damian smirked.
"You read faces?"
"I read pressure."
The prince crossed his arms.
"And what does pressure say?"
Lucian looked toward the rain.
"That you were denied truth."
Damian's amusement disappeared.
"You speak too confidently."
"I speak accurately."
Silence.
The moonlight cut across both men.
Damian finally asked
"Why are you really here?"
Lucian did not answer immediately.
Which annoyed Damian further.
Then...
"I made promise."
That answer surprised him.
"A promise?"
Lucian nodded.
"Long ago."
"To who?"
The man looked directly at him.
"Your aunt."
The corridor became still.
Damian frowned.
"My… aunt?"
"Yes."
That word alone created confusion.
He knew almost nothing about his mother's family.
Very little had ever been discussed.
Scarlett rarely spoke about the past.
And Fenrir...
never.
Damian stepped closer.
"You know my mother's family?"
Lucian looked away briefly.
"I knew one of them."
Past tense.
Damian caught it immediately.
"Knew."
A shadow crossed Lucian's expression.
"Yes."
Silence followed.
Then Damian asked
"Who?"
Lucian looked toward him again.
"A woman named Selene."
The moment that name left his mouth...
pain exploded behind Damian's eyes.
His breath caught.
A flash...
Silver moonlight.
Blood.
A woman laughing.
And chains.
The vision vanished instantly.
Damian staggered.
Lucian moved forward.
"Damian..."
"Don't."
The prince steadied himself.
His breathing roughened.
"What… was that?"
Lucian looked troubled now.
Not pretending.
Genuinely.
"You saw something."
Damian glared.
"You knew that would happen?"
"No."
But his hesitation betrayed uncertainty.
Damian wiped blood from beneath his nose.
Blood.
Fresh.
That alone angered him.
Vampires did not bleed this easily.
Not royals.
Not him.
Lucian watched the blood carefully.
And his expression darkened.
"…this is worsening."
Damian laughed once.
"Everything with you worsens."
Lucian ignored the remark.
"Did you recognize the memory?"
"No."
But that was not entirely true.
He recognized the feeling.
And somehow...
that frightened him more.
Back inside the throne chamber...
the atmosphere remained heavy.
Fenrir stood before the massive window overlooking Darkheart.
Scarlett sat silently nearby.
Sirius remained standing.
No one had moved for several minutes.
Finally...
Scarlett broke the silence.
"You should have told him."
Fenrir did not turn.
"We already discussed this."
"No."
Her voice sharpened.
"We avoided it."
The king remained silent.
Scarlett rose slowly.
"He is not a child."
"He is unstable."
"He is alone."
That answer landed harder.
Fenrir finally turned.
"He is protected."
Scarlett met his gaze.
"There is difference."
Silence.
Sirius watched without interference.
Then Fenrir spoke
"You think truth will help him?"
"Yes."
The king's expression remained unreadable.
"And if truth destroys him?"
Scarlett stepped closer.
"Then at least it destroys him honestly."
Silence again.
That sentence hung heavily.
Sirius finally spoke.
"Her majesty is correct."
Fenrir's eyes moved toward him.
The commander remained calm.
"The prince already suspects deception."
"He suspects many things."
"And he will seek answers."
Sirius folded his arms.
"The question is simple."
His crimson eyes hardened.
"Will he find them from us… or from others?"
The king looked at him quietly.
"You trust Lucian too much."
"I trust nothing."
That answer came immediately.
"But I distrust ignorance more."
Fenrir turned away again.
The storm outside intensified.
Rain struck glass harder.
Then...
the king spoke quietly.
"You did not see the war."
The room fell still.
Scarlett lowered her eyes.
Sirius said nothing.
Fenrir's voice became distant.
"Before Darkheart existed…"
"…before treaties…"
"…before order…"
"…there were kingdoms built on prophecy."
His eyes narrowed.
"And prophecy devoured them."
Scarlett watched him silently.
Fenrir continued
"You call me secretive."
"Perhaps."
"But I buried enough graves to learn caution."
The throne room grew colder.
Then he finally said
"If Damian learns everything before he is prepared…"
A pause.
"…history may repeat itself."
Sirius answered calmly.
"Or perhaps history repeats because truth is buried."
That...
made Fenrir turn sharply.
Power rolled through the chamber.
Heavy.
Royal.
Most men would collapse beneath it.
Sirius did not move.
The king's voice lowered.
"You challenge me often lately."
The commander met his gaze.
"Because lately, my king…"
A pause.
"…I fear you are choosing father and king poorly."
Silence.
Pure.
Dangerous.
Scarlett inhaled slowly.
Yet Fenrir did not strike.
Did not threaten.
Instead...
he looked tired.
And somehow...
that unsettled Sirius more.
Far below the castle
beneath ancient foundations
the prison stirred again.
Chains covered the chamber like veins of glowing iron.
Ancient seals lined the walls.
Old language.
Old fear.
And inside
darkness moved.
Two silver eyes remained open.
Watching.
Waiting.
The creature could not move freely.
Not yet.
But it listened.
And tonight...
it heard more clearly than before.
Damian.
The name echoed softly.
The chains trembled.
A hand emerged from shadow.
Pale.
Inhumanly long.
The seals flared immediately.
Pain filled the chamber.
Yet...
the creature laughed.
Low.
Ancient.
Not cruel.
Amused.
"So…"
Its voice sounded fractured.
"…the blood remembers."
The chains tightened violently.
The creature remained still.
Then...
it whispered another name.
Not Damian.
Not Fenrir.
Not Venenum.
"Selene."
Above...
far above....
Damian suddenly stopped walking.
His heartbeat stumbled.
And once again...
the whisper reached him.
But this time...
it carried something new.
Not a command.
A warning.
The moon lies.
Damian froze.
Rain hammered against castle windows.
Lucian noticed his expression change.
"What happened?"
The prince slowly lifted his head.
His crimson eyes darkened.
And for the first time
uncertainty entered his voice.
"…someone spoke."
Lucian narrowed his eyes.
"The voice?"
Damian looked toward the lower foundations of Darkheart.
Toward stone.
Toward darkness.
And quietly answered
"No."
A pause.
"Someone else."