Fire made everything honest.
It stripped away titles.
It burned excuses.
It revealed what people truly protected when fear took over.
Severin ran into smoke thick enough to choke reason.
"Selyne!"
No answer.
The market square had dissolved into chaos.
Grain sacks burned.
People screamed.
Some fled.
Some looted.
And some watched.
That was what terrified him most.
Not the fire—
but the eyes calculating in its light.
He pushed through bodies, ignoring the pain in his ribs, the burn in his lungs.
System warnings flashed in his mind.
[ Emergency Override Available. ]
[ Authority Protocol: LOCKED. ]
[ Reason: High Civilian Density. ]
Damn it.
He dropped to his knees near the overturned cart, coughing violently.
Ash coated his hands.
"Selyne!" he shouted again, voice breaking.
A memory stabbed through him—
Her blood on the floor.
Her body unmoving.
The sound of metal screaming as the car folded in on itself.
Not again.
Not again.
A hand grabbed his arm.
"Your Highness!"
Harlan.
His face was streaked with soot, eyes sharp despite the chaos.
"She's not here," Harlan said quickly.
"I had men searching the outer lanes."
Severin shook his head.
"She wouldn't run alone," he rasped.
"She knows better than that."
Harlan hesitated.
"…Then someone took her."
The sentence landed heavier than any blow.
The system chimed.
[ Threat Vector Identified. ]
[ Classification: Human Opportunists. ]
[ Warning: Asset Vulnerability Escalating. ]
Severin forced himself upright.
"Lock the east gate," he ordered.
"Quietly.
No announcements."
Harlan frowned.
"That'll cause panic."
"Yes," Severin said.
"But less than if they succeed."
They moved fast.
Too fast for a man without authority.
Too fast for a prince without legitimacy.
Which meant—
someone was watching him test his limits.
The eastern alleys were narrow, choking with smoke and shadows.
Severin followed instinct more than logic.
He saw a torn piece of cloth caught on a broken nail.
Selyne's cloak.
The world narrowed.
He followed.
The alley ended at an abandoned granary.
The door hung half open.
Inside—
darkness.
He stepped in.
The smell hit him first.
Fear.
Sweat.
Something metallic.
"Selyne," he whispered.
A sound.
Not a cry.
A breath held too tightly.
Then—
"You shouldn't have touched the market."
A man stepped into view.
Not armed.
Not alone.
Three others emerged from the shadows.
Locals.
Not bandits.
That was worse.
"She's not yours," Severin said quietly.
One of them laughed.
"She's lowborn.
She's whoever keeps her alive."
Severin's hands clenched.
"She chose to stay," he said.
"That means something."
"To you," the man replied.
"To us?
She's leverage."
Selyne sat against the far wall.
Her hands were bound.
Her face pale—
but her eyes burned.
She looked at Severin.
Not relieved.
Furious.
"Don't," she said sharply.
"Don't do anything stupid."
He ignored her.
"What do you want?" he asked.
The leader smiled.
"Food.
Protection.
Guarantees."
Severin swallowed.
This was the price of order.
"You'll have it," he said.
"All of you.
If you let her go."
Selyne jerked.
"No," she snapped.
"You can't—"
"I can," Severin said calmly.
"And I will."
The system screamed.
[ Moral Deviation Detected. ]
[ Warning: Collective Reward Trade-Off. ]
[ Population Trust May Decrease. ]
He didn't care.
The men exchanged glances.
"Not enough," the leader said.
"You're building something.
We want a piece."
Severin stared at him.
"You want power."
"Yes."
Severin nodded slowly.
"Then you misunderstand me."
He took a step forward.
"I don't share power.
I shoulder responsibility."
The leader's smile faded.
"Kill him," someone muttered.
Time slowed.
The system flared.
[ Emergency Override: LIMITED ACCESS GRANTED. ]
[ Function: Authority Pulse — One Use. ]
[ Cost: Long-Term Trust Reduction. ]
Severin closed his eyes for half a second.
Then spoke.
"Drop her," he commanded.
Not shouted.
Not begged.
Commanded.
The air seemed to compress.
The men froze.
Their knees buckled.
Not from force—
but from something deeper.
Authority.
Raw.
Unpolished.
Terrifying.
Selyne gasped as the man holding her released his grip involuntarily.
She fell forward.
Severin caught her.
Held her.
Just once.
She trembled violently.
The system went silent.
The men collapsed to the ground, clutching their heads, screaming.
Severin felt nothing.
No triumph.
No satisfaction.
Only dread.
Harlan burst in moments later with guards.
It was already over.
The fire outside died down by dawn.
The market survived—
barely.
But rumors spread faster than flames.
The prince had used force.
The prince had broken men.
The prince was no longer weak.
Selyne did not speak to him.
Not when he untied her hands.
Not when he wrapped her in his cloak.
Not when he walked her back through the smoking streets.
Only when they reached the ruined well did she stop.
She turned to face him.
Her eyes were wet—
but unyielding.
"You crossed a line," she said.
"I know."
"You used them," she continued.
"You used fear."
"I used authority."
She laughed bitterly.
"That's the same thing with a cleaner name."
Severin bowed his head.
"I did it for you."
Her voice cracked.
"That's what scares me."
She stepped back.
"I don't want to be the reason you become him."
He didn't argue.
He couldn't.
She walked away.
This time—
he did not follow.
The system spoke one last time before silence returned.
[ Authority Acquired: Unstable. ]
[ Trust Index (Population): -1.2 ]
[ Trust Index (Selyne Rowan): -0.5 ]
[ Status: Survival Achieved. ]
[ Note: Protection Without Consent Is Still Violence. ]
Severin stood alone as the sun rose.
The market lived.
The people breathed.
And the woman he loved—
looked at him
like he was already becoming
something she would one day have to escape.
The settlement did not sleep that night.
Doors stayed half-open.
Whispers crawled along walls.
People spoke Severin's name like a test—slowly, carefully, to see what would happen if it was said too loudly.
Some said he saved them.
Some said he terrified them.
Most said nothing at all.
That silence was worse.
Severin remained by the well until the sky lightened.
Not because he expected Selyne to return—
but because leaving felt like abandonment.
Harlan approached quietly.
"The men you broke," he said, voice low,
"won't remember everything.
Just the fear."
Severin nodded.
"And the people?"
"They'll remember enough."
Harlan hesitated.
"There's a messenger on the road from the capital.
He arrived before dawn."
Severin closed his eyes.
So it begins.
"What does the seal say?" he asked.
Harlan swallowed.
"Royal judgment.
Emergency review.
Your actions tonight reached farther than this border."
Severin exhaled slowly.
Of course they did.
Harlan studied him.
"You used authority without crown, without court approval.
That gives them reason."
"They already had reason," Severin replied.
"Yes," Harlan agreed.
"But now they have timing."
Severin straightened.
"Where is Selyne?"
Harlan didn't answer immediately.
"She refused the escort.
Said she needed to walk alone.
She's safe—for now."
For now.
Those words echoed like a threat.
The system stirred faintly, as if unsure whether to speak.
[ Long-Term Flag Raised: Political Scrutiny. ]
[ Risk: Exile Probability Increased. ]
[ Note: Emotional Anchor Unstable. ]
Severin looked toward the far edge of the settlement—
where Selyne's silhouette disappeared between damaged houses.
He pressed a hand against his chest.
In his past life, he had lost her in seconds.
Metal.
Glass.
Fire.
This time, the loss was slower.
Crueler.
Built piece by piece by his own choices.
"I'll fix this," he murmured.
Not to the system.
Not to the kingdom.
To the woman who no longer believed
that salvation was worth the cost.
As the sun rose fully,
the messenger from the capital dismounted at the gate.
And with him—
the beginning of Severin Kaelros' official fall
from prince
to something far more dangerous.