One night, Adrian couldn't sleep.
He put on his cloak and stepped quietly into the corridor.
The palace was silent except for the soft hiss of the torches and the whisper of the wind.
Something drew him toward the west courtyard, the place where the king had been found.
He didn't know why.
He just needed answers.
The courtyard was empty except for the bloodstains near the fountain.
He knelt, running his fingers over the dry marks.
Then he heard a whisper behind him.
He turned sharply but saw no one.
"Who's there?" he called.
There was no answer.
His heart thudded as he scanned the shadows.
Then a voice spoke from the darkness running towards him.
"Please save me, my prince."
Adrian froze.
Lena ran forward, looking pale and shaking.
"Lena?" he breathed.
"What are you doing out here?" he asked.
Lena looked around nervously. "I… I have to tell you something, my prince."
"What is it?"
She swallowed hard. "The person who tried to kill Prince Eric… wasn't supposed to kill the King. They were supposed to take Prince Eric out for you."
"For Me?" Adrian whispered, stunned.
Lena nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.
"Yes, but it went wrong." she continued.
"What are you talking about?" he asked cionfused. "They gave him something, a perfume".
A sharp whistling cut through the air and an arrow struck Lena in the back.
"Lena, Lena! Who?" Adrian cried, catching her as she collapsed.
Her trembling lips tried to form words but only one broken whisper escaped:
"Its…. the…. Prin...c"
Then her eyes went still.
Adrian looked up in horror toward the dark balcony above.
And for the briefest moment stood the silhouette of someone watching him.
"Who's there?"
Adrian's voice broke through the dead silence of the courtyard.
"Help! Someone help!"
His cry echoed off the stone walls.
The moon hung overhead like a pale witness while Lena's limp body rested in his arms, her blood warm against his cloak.
He tried to shake her, call her name again, but her eyes didn't open. Her last whisper replayed in his head.
"it's… Prin…"
Prince?
Princess?
Who?
His heart pounded hard enough to hurt.
Footsteps rushed from the far end of the courtyard.
"My prince?" a guard called as he approached with a torch.
The man froze at the sight before him. "By the spirits what happened?"
"An arrow," Adrian said, forcing the words out.
"Someone shot her. She tried to warn me. Help me get her inside."
The guard nodded quickly, shouting for assistance.
Within minutes, two more guards arrived, and they lifted Lena's small frame from Adrian's arms, carrying her toward the healer's wing.
Adrian followed, trembling and his thoughts tangling and heavy.
Someone inside the palace had killed this girl.
Someone who knew his movements.
Someone who knew she was about to speak.
He walked in a daze behind the guards, down the corridors lit with cold lantern light. Lena's pale arm swung loosely at her side. A piece of her apron hung torn and stained with blood.
Adrian looked around, half expecting the cloaked figure he saw earlier to appear again. But every hallway was empty.
When they reached the healer's chambers, the royal physician appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"What is this?" he asked sharply. "Another attack?"
"She was shot," Adrian said. "In the courtyard."
The physician examined her quickly, then stepped back and shook his head. "She's gone."
Adrian already knew, but hearing it said aloud squeezed his chest painfully.
"Prepare her body," he said quietly. "She deserves respect."
The physician bowed. "Of course, my prince."
Adrian swallowed and stepped out of the room, leaning against the cold wall. His breath escaped in uneven waves.
Lena had come to warn him, and now she was dead. If he hadn't gone out there, maybe she would still be alive.
He stopped himself for the guilt was a weight he couldn't shoulder yet.
A guard approached him cautiously.
"We'll investigate the courtyard, my prince. The arrow, the location and everything else."
Adrian nodded. "Make sure no one hears of this tonight. Not the court, the nobles or even the servants. Whoever did this might still be inside the palace."
"Yes, my prince."
Morning came gray and heavy, as though the sky itself disapproved of what had happened during the night.
The council chamber filled with tense faces and murmurs.
The Queen sat pale and silent, her hands clutching her handkerchief. The chief adviser stood at the center table with a stack of scrolls before him.
Adrian stood straight, though he hadn't slept. His eyes were shadowed, and his jaw tight. He could still smell the scent of Lena's blood on his sleeves.
"Prince Adrian," the chief advisor said, turning to him, "the guards reported you found a maid's body last night. Explain exactly what happened."
The room went silent.
Adrian took a steadying breath. "I went to the west courtyard because I needed time to think. I saw blood on the floor, and then I heard something and I looked. It was Lena, the queen's maid."
Queen Elizabeth gasped softly.
"She told me someone in the palace planned to kill Prince Eric. And that they tried to kill him… for…..."
Adrain couldn't bring himself to say it.
"For who, Prince Adrain?" the chief adviser asked curiously.
Adrian continued, voice steady, ignoring the question. "She said the attack was meant to kill Eric, not Father. But it went wrong."
"And then?" the chief advisor asked.
"She tried to tell me who was behind it," Adrian said. "But before she could finish, she was shot with an arrow from the balcony."
Whispers filled the chamber like a rising wave.
The adviser raised his hand for silence. "Are you telling us the killer is inside the palace?"
"I think so," Adrian answered. "And I think it's someone powerful enough to silence anyone who knows the truth."
Queen Elizabeth pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.
"This is madness. Who would dare?" One of the ministers asked.
"A conspirator," the chief advisor said grimly. "Possibly more than one."
The Queen turned to Adrian. "Did she say who it was?"
"She tried," he replied quietly. "Her last words were blur and were 'It's… Prin…' and then she died."
"Princess?" someone among the council members whispered.
"Prince?" another muttered. "Principal guard?"
The Hall was filled with confusion and curiosity.
The chief advisor shook his head. "We cannot jump to conclusions."
But Adrian felt eyes turning toward him though not directly. No one dared accuse the prince but suspicion began to shift around the room, moving like smoke.
The chief advisor cleared his throat. "Prince Adrian, we will increase your guards. Until we know more, your safety must be prioritized."
Adrian nodded but kept his thoughts to himself.
More guards meant more eyes, more ears and more ways for the wrong people to watch him.
Unknown to him, that it was the beginning of something bigger.
One morning after a meeting ended, Adrian left the council chamber, but he felt someone following him and turned.
Athalia stood at the top of the steps; her expression was unreadable. Her long gown trailed behind her, shimmering faintly in the morning light.
"You look troubled," she said, descending gracefully.
"Father was hurt and everyone is suspicious," Adrian replied. "Of course I'm troubled."
"I heard," she said softly. "The Kingdom is full of whispers."
Adrian studied her face.
"You're not surprised," he said.
"I've lived in courts before, Adrian. Secrets and hurt go hand in hand. I only worry for you."
He looked away. "Lena said someone wanted Eric dead for me. Does that make sense to you?"
Athalia tilted her head slightly. "You finally speak. But to think of it, everything makes sense when you remember one thing."
"What's that?"
"That you're heir if Eric or father is out of your way," she said
Adrian stiffened.
"Athalia," he said quietly, "do you know anything about this?"
Her eyes met his steadily. "If I did, I would tell you."
Adrian held her gaze for several seconds. He didn't know if he believed her.
Later, Adrian went to see his father.
The King lay on the healer's bed, pale and motionless, like a statue carved from fading stone. His chest rose and fell slowly.
The healer bowed. "He is stable but hasn't woken."
Adrian approached the bedside. The sight twisted something inside him.
"I need you to wake up," he whispered. "Everything is not the same."
The healer gently placed a hand on Adrian's arm. "The King will need time, his wound was deep."
Adrian nodded and stepped back. He turned to leave but paused when he saw Queen Elizabeth standing in the doorway.
"You didn't tell me Lena came to you," she said quietly. "She was like family. She grew up with me and now someone killed her."
Adrian didn't know what to say.
The Queen wiped her eyes, looking suddenly older. "If someone wanted Eric gone, then this danger isn't only about the throne. It's about our family."
Adrian felt something twist inside him at her words.
"Who would want to do this to us?" he asked.
Later that afternoon, the adviser summoned Adrian to his office.
"We removed the arrow used on the maid. "he said.
"Did it reveal anything?"
The adviser handed him the arrow. The shaft was smooth and polished and wasn't meant for ordinary guards. The fletching was made of white hawk feathers.
Adrian frowned. "This isn't from the palace."
"No," the adviser said. "It belongs to the elite archers of the Silver Guard."
Adrian's eyes widened. "The Silver Guard? Aren't they the ones that serve the royal family directly."
The adviser nodded grimly. "Only six people in the entire kingdom use these arrows. And all of them were on duty last night."
"Then who fired it?" Adrian asked.
"That," the adviser replied, "is what terrifies me for I cannot say."
Before Adrian could respond, a guard burst in.
"My lord! Someone breached the west tower during the night. We found a rope hanging on the wall."
The adviser slammed his fist on the table. "We're being hunted from inside the palace."
Adrian felt his pulse quicken.
The adviser leaned close, lowering his voice. "Prince Adrian… Are you certain of what she said?"
"Yes," Adrian replied.
The adviser exhaled slowly.
"Then we must consider the possibility," he said, "that the conspirator is a man or woman."
Adrian stiffened.
"And possibly," the adviser added, "someone with a title."
A silence settled between them which was heavy and dangerous.
Adrian thought of the cloaked figure on the balcony, of Lena's trembling voice, Athalia's calm smile and the queen's warning about smiling knives.
"Find out every man or woman who had access to the west tower last night," Adrian ordered. "And every man or woman with authority over the Silver Guard."
"As you wish, my prince." the chorused
Adrian stepped out of the office, his thoughts sharp and dark.
He was halfway down the corridor when a soft voice called behind him.
"Prince Adrian."
He turned to see Athalia standing in the shadows.
"You seem troubled," she said. "Is something wrong?"
Adrian studied her carefully.
"Many things are wrong," he replied. "But I'm beginning to understand them."
Athalia smiled softly. "Then you're learning."
He didn't answer.
She stepped closer, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "Be careful, Adrian. You're beginning to attract attention."
"Whose attention?" he asked.
Athalia's smile widened just slightly.
"The kind that watches from balconies."
A chill went down his spine.
Before he could respond, she turned and walked away, her gown sweeping behind her like a curtain closing on a dangerous play.
Adrian stood frozen in the corridor, Lena's dying whispers echoing in his mind.
And now Athalia's final words "the kind that watches from balconies".
Adrian's breath caught.
"Could Athalia have planned this?" he thought.
Meanwhile, Princess Emelia had barely slept.
Her eyes were swollen and red, and her fingers trembled as she clutched the edge of her cloak. The hallways of the palace felt colder than usual and was filled with whispers that traveled faster than truth. Everywhere she walked, she heard the same murmurs.
"Prince Eric killed the king."
"He tried to take the throne."
"He stabbed his own father."
Each rumor was a blade in her chest.
She pushed open the doors leading to Prince Eric's Chamber. Guards straightened as she walked past, but they looked away with pity. She hated the way their eyes softened when they saw her, like she was a widow.
When she reached the door, the guard bowed. "Your Highness… only a few minutes. The council does not want..."
"Open the door," she said quietly.
The guard hesitated, then signaled the second guard to slide the iron bolts on the door free.
The door groaned as it opened, revealing a narrow bed at the centre of the room. Then at the far end of the bed, sat Prince Eric.
His wrists were not chained, but the confinement alone was insult enough. He sat on his bed, elbows on his knees, head down and stared at the floor. His usually neat hair fell over his face and hid his expression.
"Eric…" Emelia whispered.
He looked up slowly. His eyes were hollow, not angry or bitter but just empty. As though something inside him had been stolen.
"Emelia," he murmured. His voice was rough, as if he hadn't spoken in hours.
She stepped closer. A part of her wanted to reach through and hold him, but she didn't want to make him feel weaker.
"You can't imagine what they're saying about you," she said, her voice breaking. "They're accusing you of trying to kill your father. And now Lena is dead, and they believe everything points to you."
Eric exhaled shakily. "What? Lena is Dead?."