~Adrian Aurelius' POV~
The heavy oak doors of the Grand Lunar Hall closed behind him.
Prince Adrian Aurelius walked down the dimly lit corridor, steps unhurried, goblet still in hand. His breathing remained steady, his expression composed—as though he had exchanged nothing more consequential than polite words.
But behind that calm…
His thoughts moved like silent blades.
The dance of politics did not always begin at the banquet table.
Sometimes, it began in the silence after.
And Kel von Rosenfeld had entered the dance.
Without meaning to.
Or perhaps…
Without admitting he did.
Adrian's lips curved slightly.
Interesting.
The Prince's Dissection
Most nobles believed Adrian possessed unusually calm temperament for his age.
They were wrong.
He did not possess calmness.
He had constructed it.
Like armor.
He did not remain silent because he had nothing to say.
He remained silent because reactions were tools—for those who could read them well.
Tonight…
Kel had offered him far more than words.
He offered silence that did not tremble.
Adrian replayed the encounter in his mind.
Kel's steps—slow, controlled—but his pain masked perfectly.
Kel's answers—not defiant, not submissive, but deliberate.
Kel's eyes…
Those eyes held no plea.
No arrogance.
Only decision.
Adrian's Evaluation
He has been preparing in the shadows.
Not for social redemption.
Not for worth.
For survival.
Adrian paused at the end of the corridor, placing his empty goblet on the marble ledge.
Nobles walked past at the hall's far end, eyes lingering discreetly.
He ignored them.
That child fights like someone aware his life belongs not to time, but to consequence.
Most nobles Kel's age trained to avoid losing.
Kel trained like losing meant undoing his existence.
He did not defend his pride tonight.
He preserved his future.
That, Adrian thought, was the difference between a noble and a threat.
Flashback: The Duel (From Adrian's Vantage)
Adrian had watched the duel from the balcony's shadowed edge—not applauding, barely perceived.
Everyone watched the sword.
He watched the arrhythmia of Kel's breathing.
Everyone saw the strike.
He saw the withdrawal of aggression the moment Kel recognized his opponent's final lunge.
Kel chose not to humiliate.
He chose to win, but not to destroy.
Why?
Adrian's fingers drummed slowly against the stone.
He doesn't want dominance… not yet.
He wants time.
The scariest ambition there is.
Dissecting the Conversation
"I intend to live."
Adrian closed his eyes briefly.
Other nobles aimed to inherit, to rise, to conquer.
Kel spoke of survival as if it were the highest declaration.
And yet, behind the meaning of those words…
He sensed something else.
He does not seek to live quietly.
He seeks to live long enough to become undeniable.
How dangerous.
How… familiar.
Adrian opened his eyes.
Who Is Prince Adrian?
To the empire, he was the fourth prince.
Young enough to be unthreatening.
Calm enough to be reassuring.
Polite enough not to draw hostility.
But he saw the succession paths forming.
Three older brothers—each backed by strong houses, each vying for imperial favor.
They pursued power openly.
Adrian chose to pursue knowledge.
And early tonight…
Someone whispered at his ear during the banquet:
"The cursed heir apparently stood tonight."
He almost ignored it.
Until the person added—
"And not only stood… he made others step back."
That is when Adrian decided to observe for himself.
And now…
He had seen enough to act.
The Prince's Strategy Forms
Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the corridor ledge.
Kel is not ready to play the game, he assessed.
But he is ready to be played.
That was unacceptable.
A man who had the capacity to defy expected demise should not become a tool.
He should become…
A variable.
A free agent of influence.
Adrian's eyes narrowed slightly.
And variables belong on my side.
Not as subordinates.
As options.
He could not reveal full support—not yet.
Kel needed to grow.
To ache.
To resist.
Only then would he be someone worth standing beside in changing the empire.
But Adrian had time.
What Adrian Saw Beneath the Mask
Kel spoke politely.
Moved with grace.
Yet Adrian saw it clearly—
Every step was calculated around pain.
Kel's aura usage in the duel was precise, but fleeting.
He is rationing power like a dying man rations breath.
Adrian's gaze lowered.
He has already learned to fight like someone aware his time might be limited.
It was not weakness.
It was terrifying clarity.
Adrian straightened.
A boy who trains like that will not seek allies casually.
He will seek them when the world forces him to move.
Which meant…
He would likely resist Adrian next time.
Good.
Adrian preferred resistance.
It meant Kel would come prepared.
The Prince Makes a Decision
Let the cursed heir rise in quiet.
Let the nobles scheme.
Let even his family wait for him to fail.
Adrian looked back toward the hall.
But I… will watch further.
He reached for his coat, pulling it slightly tighter.
In the shadows of the corridor, where candlelight met absence—
He spoke to the air.
"Kel von Rosenfeld…"
"Grow strong enough that I never regret seeing you first."
His voice softened.
"The empire will not stay still."
"And neither will I."
With that, Adrian turned and walked away from the hall—steps quiet, posture relaxed, the court-trained smile back on his lips.
To the passing nobles, he looked serene.
Composed.
Utterly harmless.
But his thoughts settled into place like drawn steel.
The empire is watching the cursed boy now.
But I…
I will watch the man he becomes.