The dungeon doors creaked open.
Boots echoed on the stone floor.
Knights entered—silent, grim—and gestured for us to rise.
No words.
Just shackles.
Just the cold touch of steel against our wrists.
We were led through the winding stone halls beneath the castle. No explanation. No threats. Just silence.
And that silence was somehow worse than screams.
---
When the final door opened, we were in the throne room again.
Empty.
No nobles. No guards.
Just him.
King Althus sat upon his throne.
Still smiling.
But softer now. The wide, unnatural grin had faded. This one was something else. Resigned. Tired.
"…You're alive," he said.
Aelira scowled. "You poisoned us."
Lucen stepped forward. "And yet here we are. Why? What was the point?"
I stepped between them.
And I asked the question that had haunted me since the cell.
"…Why did you poison our food?"
The king looked at me.
His smile twitched.
And then… he sighed.
It was the first sound of genuine emotion I'd heard from him.
"I had to know," he said softly. "If you were real."
"What?" I blinked.
He stood, slowly.
"There are too many false prophets. Too many monsters who come into this world claiming divinity. Too many who wield gifts like yours… and use them to destroy."
His eyes darkened, but his voice remained calm.
"You... ordered an army to stop. With a word. You command the hearts of men. That is not a gift—it's a threat."
He took a step closer.
"I had to know if you would retaliate. If you would kill me for trying. If you would burn my kingdom down with a whisper. If you were like them."
Silence.
Then, he looked down.
"But you didn't. You spared Lucen. You saved the villagers. You didn't scream for revenge when I betrayed your trust."
He looked up again—eyes not cruel now, but human.
"So I brought you here. Not as a prisoner. But as a test."
Lucen clenched his fists. "You think that justifies trying to kill us?"
The king shook his head.
"No. But in a kingdom where words are weapons… trust must be earned the hard way."
Aelira stepped beside me.
"So what now?" she asked, voice cold. "You expect us to forget all this?"
King Althus walked toward his throne and sat again.
"No," he said simply. "But I do hope… you'll stay."
I blinked. "Stay?"
"Yes. As guests. As... possible allies. You can leave, if you choose. Or we can begin again—with honesty."
Lucen scoffed. "After everything?"
I looked at the king.
At the scars under his eyes.
At the tired way he wore his crown.
"…You're scared," I said.
He paused. Then gave a small, honest nod.
"Yes."
He smiled again.
But this time, it didn't feel cursed.
It felt... sad.
And real.
---
[To be continued…]