The sun dipped low on the horizon, washing the garden in warm shades of orange and fading gold. The willow's long branches swayed gently in the evening air, their shadows stretching across the stone path.
Cassian helped his mother sit on the bench beneath the tree. She moved slowly, still shaken, and he remained standing before her, his hands flexing at his sides as if unsure what to do with them.
For a moment, neither spoke, but Cassian broke the silence first.
"Mother," he called quietly, his voice uneven, "do you know what has been happening to me?"
"I don't even summon this fire," he continued. "I don't even think of it but it keeps on appearing making it hard for me to even control myself." His eyes dropped briefly to his hands.
Lady Rosetta looked up at him, the fading light softening her features. Her lips parted, breath catching as if she had been waiting for this question.
"Cass—"
She began only to be interrupted by footsteps. The sound sharp and impossible to ignore.
Lady Rosetta froze. Cassian turned instinctively toward the noise, his body tensing. Two guards emerged from between the columns at the garden's edge, their armor gleaming faintly beneath the dying light. Their faces were set, unreadable, and their strides carried purpose.
Whatever Lady Rosetta had been about to say died unspoken.
Her hand tightened around Cassian's sleeve as the guards approached, the last of the sun slipping beneath the horizon and taking the moment with it.
"Prince Cassian, your presence is demanded by the king in the courtroom," one of the guards said, already stepping forward.
As the guard reached for him, Cassian shifted away from the grasp. "I can walk on my own," he muttered.
He spared one last look at his mother. Lady Rosetta stood rigid beneath the willow, her face pale, her hands clenched tightly together as if holding herself upright by force alone. Then Cassian turned and followed the guards through the palace corridors, the sound of their boots echoing sharply against stone.
Lady Rosetta followed until the towering doors of the courtroom loomed before them. There she was stopped, as she always was. She did not argue. She only watched as the doors closed, their heavy weight sealing her son inside, before she was quietly led away.
The courtroom was vast and cold.
Torches lined the walls, their flames casting wavering shadows across marble and gold. Cassian was brought before the throne and forced to halt at its base. He bowed to the king and the queen, his movements measured and controlled. When he straightened, Queen Avery's fury struck him first, sharp and unhidden. The king's expression was no kinder, disappointment and restrained anger etched deep into the lines of his face.
"Cassian," the king called, his voice carrying easily through the chamber, "is what the queen telling us true?!"
Cassian pressed his lips together. His thoughts moved quickly, weighing truth against silence. He had lived long enough in this palace to know that neither had ever protected him. Words meant little when spoken without power behind them.
"You would be wise not to lie, it will only add to your punishment" the king continued.
Cassian's gaze shifted briefly toward the guards lining the walls. Their armor gleamed under the torchlight, their faces blank. They had witnessed the garden scene in full, yet loyalty here was not given to the truth, but to the crown.
"Yes, Your Highness," Cassian admitted at last.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the room. Ministers leaned closer to one another, whispering behind jeweled hands. Queen Avery stepped forward, her silks whispering against the stone.
"If I had not acted quickly, this boy would have killed me," she said, her voice cutting through the noise. "I have always known there was something wrong with him. Even as a child, he was different."
Her eyes narrowed as they fixed on him.
"Look at his eyes," she continued. "No true vampire bears such a color. I would not be surprised if he or his mother has been dabbling in dark magic."
Cassian lifted his gaze fully then, allowing the court to see what they feared.
His eyes were not red like those of other vampires. They were black, unnaturally so, deep and endless, swallowing light rather than reflecting it. He had noticed the difference as he grew, but he had learned to ignore the stares.
"I never imagined that one of my own sons would attempt to harm a member of this family," the king murmured, his voice carrying far enough for most of the chamber to hear.
Cassian stood silent. He had no permission to speak and no power to defend himself. Silence was the only thing left to him.
Queen Avery drew a slow breath, pressing a hand to her chest as though steadying herself. "I do not know what he would do if he were to find me alone," she said, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. "He was willing to set me on fire not long ago. Is that not treason?"
The ministers stirred at once.
"He must be mentally unstable," one of them whispered, not bothering to lower his voice.
"Execution would be the safest course."
"At the very least, he should not roam freely among us."
Cassian heard every word. His ears caught each murmur as clearly as if it had been spoken directly to him.
"Silence!" the king commanded and everyone in the room obeyed at once.
King Austine's gaze settled on Cassian. For a brief moment, something flickered across his face. It was faint, fleeting, almost imagined. A trace of something that might have been affection, or regret, or recognition of blood but it vanished as quickly as it had just appeared.
He turned to the minister who had spoken of execution.
"I will not order the death of my own blood," the king said slowly. "But neither will I allow disobedience or danger to go unanswered. Every unruly child must be disciplined."
Cassian's breath caught.
"The kingdom is at war," the king continued. "And Virelle has always forged its strongest warriors through battle. My son will serve the land as others do. He will fight among the soldiers. He will earn his place, or perish attempting to do so."
The words struck harder than any blade.
Cassian's legs gave way. He dropped to his knees, the sound echoing through the chamber. His hands pressed to the floor as his head bowed low.
"Father, please do not send me back there." he said, his voice breaking despite his effort to contain it.
His forehead touched the cold stone.
"Please."
Unlike before, when ignorance had shielded him, Cassian knew exactly what awaited him. He had spent months there. He had endured hunger, pain, and punishments meant to strip him of pride and will alike. He did not know how much more his body could bear before it finally gave way.
The room remained silent.
Despite his pleas, the king did not bother with him again.
"Guards," he said, his voice calm and final, "take him to the dungeons. First thing tomorrow, he will be returned to the military grounds."
Hands seized Cassian's arms and hauled him upright. He struggled weakly, his pleas spilling out as he was dragged toward the doors, his voice echoing against stone and gold.
But no one intervened. No one listened.
And the doors closed behind him, swallowing his voice whole.