Page 133 of The Shattered Rite
He reached the castle through the side entrance few dared use. One watchman stood at attention. He knew better than to speak.
Malric moved quickly. Down the narrow staircase behind the western hall. Through the low stone corridor. To the door that always stayed unlocked for him.
His father was already waiting.
King Thalen. No crown rested on his head. No regalia. Just long steel-gray robes and the weight of power worn like second skin. He stood at a low table, maps and scrolls scattered like corpses. He didn’t look up as Malric entered.
“Report.”
“She’s settling in,” Malric said, voice steady. “Faster than expected.”
Thalen turned. His eyes, cold as old ash, locked onto his son’s face. “Explain.”
“She’s won the kitchens. Guards. Staff. Even the steward’s wary but watching. She has eyes now. Ears. People.”
“Too fast.”
Malric said nothing.
Thalen’s voice sharpened, each word precise as a knife. “She’s dangerous. Not for her strength. Not for the dragon. But because people want to follow her. That’s the danger.”
“She hasn’t done anything—”
“She was meant to rise,” Thalen said softly, iron under silk. “Dazzle. Gather attention. Then fall. Publicly. Violently. A symbol crushed before it could bloom. That was the plan.”
He turned fully now, and the cold in his gaze burned.
“But she’s rising too quickly. Gathering support from within my own ranks. We cannot let her become beloved before she becomes dead.”
Silence.
Malric felt the words sink into him like frost.
At last, he said, “I can keep her close. She trusts me.”
Thalen’s eyes flicked sharper. “Are you too close?”
“Not yet.” A lie. He didn’t even blink as he said it.
Thalen studied him for too long. Then he turned back to the table.
“You forget what the dragons were,” Thalen said quietly, almost musing. “Why we killed them. Why I forged weapons like the ring on your hand. Their power would’ve undone everything I've worked for. She’s bonded, Malric. That means we don’t know what she’ll become. What gifts she’ll manifest. She’s untrained, unstable—and worse, she’strusted. That combination is a threat we cannot afford.”
He paused, gaze distant, then continued. “I’ve already chosen who wins this trial. Someone loyal. Predictable. Someone I can control even after the Flame selects them. Power will stayin my hands, no matter what. But she—she’s a complication. A threat to us.”
Malric’s jaw tightened. His throat worked silently.
“Cut the threads,” Thalen said again. “Remove her comfort. Take her allies. Keep her desperate. Keep her small.”
“You want me to pick who to kill?”
“Her allies. Her comfort. The ones who make her feel seen. Guards. Kitchen hands. Anyone. End it.”
Thalen lifted the goblet, drank slowly.
“She is not to become a symbol, Malric. If she does, the others will follow. And if they follow her…”
He didn’t need to finish.
