Chapter 104 THE PRINCE IS BACK
He turned slightly, glancing toward the palace doors.
“How old are you?” he asked.
The young man paused. “Older than you think, my lord.”
Maeron exhaled slowly.
“Come,” he said at last. “Stay here.”
He entered the carriage and turned back toward the palace, his steps quicker now.
...
King Adrian sat alone when Maeron entered.
The council chamber was dim, lit by tall windows and a few guttering lamps. Adrian stood by the long table, hands braced against the polished surface, staring down at maps he had stopped seeing long ago.
“Your Majesty,” Maeron said.
Adrian did not turn. “If this is about another claimant, send him away.”
“This one is… different.”
Adrian laughed without humor. “They’re all different, Maeron. That’s the problem.”
Maeron approached carefully. “He refuses to speak to anyone but you.”
Adrian straightened. “Then he is either very brave or very foolish.”
“He has been waiting at the gate since yesterday.”
Adrian turned now, expression sharpening. “What does he want?”
“He says he has a message.”
“A message,” Adrian echoed. “From whom?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
Adrian scoffed. “Of course not.”
“He said it concerns your past.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Maeron hesitated. “Your highness, there is… something about him.”
Adrian studied Maeron’s face. “You believe him.”
“I believe,” Maeron corrected slowly, “that ignoring him would be unwise.”
Silence settled.
Adrian exhaled sharply. “Very well. Bring him.”
...
The young man entered the chamber without hesitation.
He crossed the stone floor as if he had crossed greater thresholds before. He stopped several paces from the king and bowed—not deeply, but correctly.
Adrian watched him with open skepticism.
“Well?” Adrian said. “Speak.”
The young man lifted his head. His eyes met Adrian’s.
“I carry a message meant for you alone.”
Adrian laughed. “You’re standing in my council chamber. That is as alone as it gets.”
The young man nodded once. “Then I will speak plainly.”
Maeron stepped back, folding his hands.
Adrian crossed his arms. “Go on.”
“I am here,” the young man said evenly, “because I was told the truth would reach you when the time was right.”
“And what truth is that?” Adrian asked.
The young man drew a breath.
“That you lost more than a queen.”
The air shifted.
Adrian’s smile vanished.
“Careful,” Adrian said quietly.
The young man did not retreat.
“You lost a son.”
Adrian stared at him.
Then he laughed—a sharp, disbelieving sound.
“That is your message? The entire kingdom knows that. Some have lined up claiming to be my lost heir. Such clowns. And you expect me to think of what you say as any different?”
“Yes.”
Maeron stiffened.
Adrian shook his head. “I have heard this before. Too many times. Just give him some silver and let him go.”
“This time is different...”
“Because you say so?”
“Because I am that son.”
The chamber fell silent.
Adrian’s laughter died slowly.
“Enough.”
“You asked me to speak plainly,” the young man said. “I have.”
"Young man, do you know what you're saying?" Maeron asked.
Adrian stepped closer, eyes cold. “This is a dangerous claim.”
“I know.”
“And you keep making it a joke?”
“No...your majesty.”
Adrian studied him, anger flickering beneath disbelief.
“Athalia’s child died.”
“No father. He was taken.”
Maeron was shocked.
“Don't you dare, ” Adrian snapped. “They are dead and there was only blood. Not alive.”
The young man’s gaze softened, just a fraction.
“I apologize, your majesty. But there was no body. You have to believe me when I say he lives.”
Adrian’s hands curled into fists.
“You dare...”
“I was born in the western tower, abit far from the kingdom” the young man said calmly. “On the night the bells rang twice and the earth shook.”
Maeron inhaled sharply.
Adrian froze.
The earthquake that had occurred.
“You were there,” the young man continued. “You held mother's hands. And you named me before dawn.”
Adrian’s breath grew uneven.
“One night before I was born,” the young man said, “you gave my mother something. It was your devotion of love to her that you claimed was foolish to give a queen. It was such a simple thing.”
Adrian whispered, “Stop.”
“I was told my mother had laughed,” the young man said softly, “and said she would never lose it.”
Adrian’s voice trembled. “Enough.”
The young man reached into his cloak.
Maeron tensed.
Slowly, carefully, the young man withdrew a chain.
A thin silver necklace.
At its center hung a small, imperfect pendant—hand-shaped, smoothed by years of wear.
Adrian stared at it.
His knees nearly gave way.
“Where did you get that necklace?,” Adrian breathed.
“I found it around my neck ever since I was young. ,” the young man said. “I was told that you gave it to my mother.”
Adrian stepped forward, eyes fixed on the pendant as if afraid it would vanish.
“No one else knew of it,” Adrian whispered.
Maeron felt the room spin.
The young man held the necklace out, palm open.
“I have carried it my whole life.”
Adrian’s hand hovered, then closed around it.
A muscle jumped in Adrian’s jaw.
“You claim to be my son but this isn't proof enough. You might have picked it up somewhere,” Adrian said.
“Then tell me your name.”He asked lastly with exhaustion.
The young man did not hesitate.
“Kaelion.”
The name struck the room like a bell.
Maeron’s knees weakened slightly. He reached for the edge of the table to steady himself.
“That name,” Maeron murmured, “was never spoken publicly.”
Adrian’s voice dropped. “It was chosen before the ceremony. Before the priests. Before the council.”
“My mother whispered it to me,” Kaelion said. “Even when she was too weak to hold me. At least that was what I was told.”
Adrian turned away abruptly, pacing toward the tall windows. His reflection wavered in the glass—older, harder than the man who had once waited anxiously for a child’s cry.
“There was no celebration,” Adrian said. “No feast. The kingdom heard only rumors that there was a son because the queen was ill.”
“She was...,” Kaelion replied.
“She nearly died,” Adrian snapped. “And then she vanished.”
Silence stretched.
Maeron cleared his throat. “Your Majesty… if this is true...”
“If,” Adrian echoed sharply.
He turned back to Kaelion. “If you are who you claim to be, then where have you been?”
Kaelion’s gaze flickered, just for a moment.
“Hidden,” he said.
“By whom?”
“I don’t know all their names.”
Adrian stepped closer. “Who could keep you from your throne?”
Kaelion met his eyes. “Someone who feared what would happen if I stayed.”
Maeron frowned. “Feared whom?”