Shadows At The Breakfast Table

Kael's POV

The first thing I heard that morning was my younger brother complaining about breakfast.

“The kitchen has declared war on me,” Lucien announced, entering my chambers without knocking. “They served porridge.”

I continued fastening the cuff of my black shirt. “Tragic. Shall I summon the royal guard?”

“Mock me now, but when I die of starvation, I expect you to deliver a moving speech at my funeral.”

“You'll have to die quietly. I have a headache.”

Lucien grinned. “Excellent. You're in a wonderful mood.”

He dropped into a chair, helping himself to the apple on my desk.

I stared at him.

“What?” he asked. “It's not as if you're going to eat it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you haven't eaten a proper breakfast in three days.”

Before I could answer, Evelyne appeared in the doorway.

“Four,” she corrected. “He skipped supper last night, too.”

I looked between them. “Have either of you considered finding a hobby?”

“We have one,” Evelyne said sweetly. “Keeping you alive.”

“Find another.”

She ignored me and crossed the room, snatching the apple from Lucien's hand.

“That's mine!”

“Then stop stealing from our brother.”

“You stole it from him first!”

“And now I'm correcting your behavior.”

Lucien looked at me in disbelief. “Do you see what I endure?”

“Every day,” I replied. “It's a wonder you survived childhood.”

Evelyne laughed.

For a moment, the room felt almost normal.

Then the shadows beneath my desk shifted.

My smile disappeared before it could fully form.

A sharp pain traveled up my wrist. I curled my fingers into a fist, hoping neither of them noticed the black markings creeping beneath my skin.

Unfortunately, Evelyne had inherited our mother's talent for noticing everything.

“Kael?”

“I'm fine.”

“I didn't ask if you were fine.”

“Then why did you say my name?”

She folded her arms.

Lucien's teasing expression faded. He sat forward, studying me.

Before either could question me further, a knock sounded at the door.

Darius entered with a stack of reports.

“Your Highness. We have a problem.”

Lucien sighed dramatically. “Can the problem wait until after breakfast?”

“No,” Darius answered.

“Then I dislike it already.”

I took the reports.

“Seven villages have reported unusual disturbances,” Darius explained. “Lights extinguishing without cause, animals abandoning their fields, and strange markings appearing near wells and boundary stones.”

Evelyne's expression grew serious.

“Is the northern ward failing?”

“We don't know yet.”

“Father needs to hear about this,” she said.

“He already has,” Darius replied. “The king has called a council meeting.”

I scanned the reports until one name caught my attention.

Briar Glen.

My fingers tightened around the paper.

The report described a black flower beside a village well. A silver vein ran through its stem. Before crumbling into ash, the flower had allegedly whispered a young woman's name.

Elara.

Pain struck my chest so suddenly that the papers slipped from my hands.

The shadows surged across the floor.

For one disorienting instant, I saw a stone well and a girl with brown hair standing beneath a darkening sky. Her green eyes were fixed on something I couldn't see.

Then a voice whispered inside my head.

Found you.

I gripped the desk until the vision disappeared.

“Kael!”

Evelyne caught my arm. Lucien was already beside me, his usual easy smile gone.

“What happened?” he demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Your definition of nothing is becoming increasingly concerning.”

I straightened and retrieved the fallen reports.

“I'm fine.”

Evelyne gave me a look that promised a much longer argument later.

Darius cleared his throat. “There's more. Captain Rowan, the royal warden investigating Briar Glen, reports that the girl may have a connection to the disturbances. She was found abandoned as a baby, wrapped in cloth bearing an unfamiliar symbol.”

He placed another sheet on the desk.

A circle crossed by three narrow lines, with a crescent beneath them.

The markings on my wrist burned.

I had seen that symbol before.

Not in a book. Not in the royal archives.

In my nightmares.

“Kael?” Lucien asked quietly.

I forced my expression back into something cold and controlled.

“Send for Captain Rowan. Tell him to bring the girl to the capital.”

“Bring her?” Evelyne repeated. “You mean invite her?”

“Use whichever word makes her more willing to come.”

“Charming,” she said. “Nothing says welcome to the royal family like an order from a prince who looks as though he wants to execute the furniture.”

Lucien nodded. “The furniture has been warned.”

I gave them both a flat stare.

They looked entirely unrepentant.

Before I could respond, the doors opened again.

King Aldric entered, followed by Prince Rowan, who looked as though he had been waiting for an opportunity to disagree with someone.

“Why,” Father asked, surveying the room, “do I hear laughter from my eldest son's chambers?”

“Lucien is being unbearable,” Evelyne answered.

“She's stealing my apple,” Lucien protested.

Father looked at the apple in Evelyne's hand.

“I'm beginning to understand why the royal treasury is always in trouble.”

“Finally,” I said. “Someone understands my suffering.”

Father's mouth twitched, but his attention soon shifted to the reports.

“What have we learned?”

I explained the disturbances and showed him the symbol.

His amusement vanished.

“Where did this come from?”

“Briar Glen. A girl named Elara was found with a cloth bearing the same mark.”

Father studied it for several seconds.

“Bring her here,” he ordered. “Quietly. No accusations, no threats. If she knows anything, we need her cooperation.”

Prince Rowan stepped forward. “Perhaps I should lead the investigation. I'm familiar with the northern territories.”

“You're familiar with getting lost in the northern territories,” Evelyne remarked.

“That happened once.”

“Twice,” Lucien corrected.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Must every family discussion become a competition?”

“Only when Rowan is involved,” I said.

My younger brother glared at me.

For the first time that morning, I almost smiled.

Then the silver markings on my wrist flared.

A new message appeared on the report before me, written in shimmering letters that faded almost as soon as I read them.

Bring her before the door opens.

I went still.

Father noticed.

“What is it?”

I folded the paper and slipped it into my pocket.

“Nothing we can discuss here.”

His gaze sharpened, but he didn't press me in front of the others.

The meeting dissolved into arguments about escorts, royal protocol, and whether Lucien should be trusted with anything more dangerous than a breakfast tray.

I barely heard them.

My mind remained fixed on the message.

Elara.

I didn't know who she was, what power she possessed, or why my curse reacted to her name.

But something beneath the kingdom was waking.

And whatever it wanted, it wanted her first.