Chapter 60: The Last Ball

Chapter 60: The Last Ball
LILAC

Two weeks of immense training on how to use the arrow. Two weeks of attending Lupin without Isabelle. Two weeks of finding out that Beryl Caulder isn't as bad as I thought... And two weeks of Carla trying to teach Kael king duties.

King duties. It feels surreal that he is even thinking of taking the throne from his father. I know it has something to do with the Klux, and despite Beryl, Roman, and I working tirelessly to uncover his identity, we still have no answers. Kael knows something, but he is not telling us, and I do not bother him because I am certain that eventually, everything will come into light. The Klux has not attacked since that fateful night, a welcome respite amid the storm of uncertainty that has enveloped our lives. Raul, Emery, and Perez have all been buried, their lives snuffed out far too soon, and Isabelle has not left the palace since the royal guards took her away from Carla's place the day after the incident.

Today marks the last ball of the mating season, a vibrant celebration meant to honor the unions forged during these critical times. Yet, it is also the day Kael has chosen to confront his father, to demand that he step down from the throne. Nothing could go wrong, right? But the hope feels far-fetched because I know that everything that could go wrong is looming like a shadow over our heads.

My hands feel itchy as I adjust the strap of the burgundy ball gown I am wearing. It had arrived at Carla's doorstep that morning, accompanied by a handwritten letter from Kael. It's funny how he had stood behind me, a soft smile playing on his lips while I read his words: "Wear this, princess." I couldn't help but blush at the memory, my heart fluttering like a caged bird, trapped yet yearning for freedom.

For the past two weeks, since the night he confessed to me, Kael has been more carefree around me—stealing kisses at odd moments, hugging me from behind as if he wants to make up for lost time. Carla says we act like we're in our honeymoon phase, while Roman grumbles that he is tired of the “shitty PDA,” his words not mine. I try to push Kael's confession to the back of my mind, but I know that soon I will have to bare my own feelings to him, just as he did. The thought sends a rush of anxiety through me. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if I ruin what we have?

The ballroom is alive with energy, full of people moving to a rhythm that seems to pulse through the very air we breathe. They dance to music only they can hear, an upbeat song that has a slow pace but still manages to make the crowd sway like leaves in the wind. I have to keep reminding myself to stay on my toes, my feet unfamiliar with the heels that lift me higher yet feel so constricting. I spent years wearing them while attending charity balls with my father, but now it feels different—more pressing, more significant.

My father. Who would believe that it has been five months since I last saw him? Five long months filled with uncertainty, fear, and loss. I wonder if I will ever see him again. The thought is like a weight on my chest, heavy and suffocating, threatening to drag me into despair. I push it away, forcing myself to focus on the present, on the people around me.

"What don't you like?" Kael's voice behind my ears sends shivers through me, and I glance back at him with a smile, feeling warmth bloom within me. He must have noticed my discomfort as I fidget with the hem of my gown.

"I hate events like this. They are choking, but I have no choice, do I?" I reply, my tone half-joking, half-serious.

"Unfortunately, you will attend more of this in years to come." The implication hangs heavy in the air. When he becomes king. He does not say that, but the unspoken sentence rings loud in my ears, reverberating like a warning bell. There is a nagging feeling in my head; perhaps it is just nervousness, but there has never been a time when my hunch was not right. My fingers caress the pen Carla had stuck in my hand earlier; it is a bow and arrow in disguise. She had whispered to me, “The power of reflection lies in that arrow. You will need this.” Carla and her mysteries; they are both a comfort and a source of anxiety.

As the song comes to a halt, everyone settles in their seats. Kael and I make our way to the royal table, where the rest of the royal family awaits us: King Alvarez, his wife Queen Jada, Talon, Lola, and even Isabelle. But Isabelle is not looking up; she holds a cup of wine, looking so lost as she stares into its depths. I allow my gaze to wander again around the royal table, studying each member, one by one. They say if you do not look into a man's soul, you will never find out what is really in him.

King Alvarez—a murderer, a man who killed his fated for an ambition that was worth a life to him; a selfish, ruthless man who sees his son as a rival because of the power he holds. As if on cue, King Alvarez meets my gaze, and with a boldness I never knew I possessed, I raise my glass of wine to him, a smirk on my lips. I hope you meet your doom, Alvarez Aspen.

King Alvarez stands up to address the people, his voice booming as he begins. "People of Lycania. We are here today in honor of the mating season, a season of fate and true love. Of course, this year's season has come with a lot of difficulties. As you all know, there is a murderer on the loose, trying to disrupt the activities of Lycania, but the Lyncs are working on it, I assure you. Soon we will have this evildoer at the tips of our fingers." He pauses, surveying the crowd as they cheer, yet the words taste bitter on my tongue. Speaking of a murderer as if he isn't one.

"But today, on this special occasion, I have decided to officially name the crown prince as the next in line to the throne for I will be stepping down soon. And so I present to you, Prince Talon Aspen of Lycania, the next in line to the throne of Lycania." Kael knew this would happen; it is why he chose today. The people all rise to cheer, their voices a mixture of excitement and confusion.

Queen Jada has a smirk on her face as Talon stands, and in that moment, I realize that even the Queen might not be as innocent as I thought. I glance at Kael, who has tightened his grip on the glass, his knuckles whitening under the pressure. I place my palm over his, offering silent support, and he squeezes it tightly before standing up.

"Forgive me, People of Lycania!" His voice booms inside the hall, causing an immediate hush to fall over the crowd. "Forgive me, People of Lycania," he repeats, "but Prince Talon cannot be the next king."

"Kael!" Someone shouts, but the urgency in Kael's tone drowns out the protest.

"Father. I am the rightful heir to the throne, as your first son. Or have you forgotten that I am two years older than your crown prince? Besides, only a true son of the king can inherit his father's throne."

My eyes snap up to Kael, confusion flooding my mind. What is he talking about? The room feels electric, charged with tension.

"What are you talking about?" Queen Jada takes the words right out of my mouth, but I notice a slight stutter in her speech—a crack in her composure that suggests she is hiding something.

Kael smiles as he twirls the contents of his glass slowly, his gaze steady and fierce. "You know damn well what I mean, Jada. You of all people know that Talon cannot inherit that throne because he is not my father's son!"

"You lie!" Jada’s voice is a mix of anger and desperation, but her face pales slightly, revealing the truth hidden beneath her facade.

"I do not lie, Jada. The people of Lycania deserve the truth, don’t you think? They deserve to know that apart from the fact that your son is not King Alvarez’s son, he is also the one causing tears to their eyes because his form has gone rogue?"

"Kael, cut this crap and sit down now!" Jada yells, her voice trembling slightly.

King Alvarez, who has been silent for a while now, raises his hands. "Let the boy speak, Jada."

"But—"

"Let him speak!" The king's voice is sharp, authoritative, and I can sense the tension in the room shift as Jada sits down, resigned.

Issy looks like she is going to throw up, her face pale, and Talon looks like he wants to murder Kael with his bare hands.

"The cause of the deaths happening around Lycania for the past three months has been identified as the handiwork of a Klux—a product of a pureblood Lycan and a halfblood shifter, a creature that sucks the magic off its victims before killing them."

Gasps erupt in the crowd, a wave of fear washing over the attendees, even though they are supposed to be magical beings. The atmosphere shifts; I can almost taste the anxiety hanging thick in the air.

"Where is your evidence, brother?" Talon stands, his voice dripping with contempt.

"Use it." I think I hear Carla whisper to me in my mind.

The arrow. Carla's words echo in my mind, becoming a mantra, growing louder with each heartbeat. I recognize the foolishness of my actions, but an urge to act rises within me—a blend of determination and defiance. I remember her warnings about the arrow of reflection and the significance of this moment. Now feels like a time of revelation, a crucial instance when the truth must be unveiled.

I press down on the pen, feeling the familiar sensation surge through my fingers as the ink flows. In an instant, the pen transforms into a bow and arrow. The change is mesmerizing, but there’s no time to marvel at its beauty. I push my chair back, the sound of wood scraping against the floor cutting through the tension like a knife.

With a steady hand, I align the arrow with the bow, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The ballroom is silent, the crowd holding its breath, anticipation hanging in the air like a storm about to break. My heart races as I aim for Prince Talon’s chest, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I release the arrow, the motion fluid and instinctual. It soars through the air with grace, striking its target with precision. Talon's expression shifts from smug confidence to shock as the arrow embeds itself in his chest. Time seems to freeze for a heartbeat as everyone gasps, eyes wide with disbelief.

His face begins to morph before my eyes. A kaleidoscope of emotions flickers across his features—confusion, anger, and finally, something darker. Red eyes glow from within, an unnatural light that sends chills down my spine. Billowing smoke erupts around him, swirling like a tempest as wings unfurl from his back, vast and terrifying.

Realization dawns on me, and the truth crashes over the room like a tidal wave. Talon Aspen is the Klux, the killer who has terrorized our realm, the monster hiding in plain sight. In that instant, I comprehend the weight of my actions. The crowd seems to grasp the gravity of the situation; shock reverberates through them, followed by a low murmur of fear and disbelief.

Talon wrenches the arrow free from his chest, his features twisted into a snarl. A loud, animalistic growl escapes his throat, echoing ominously through the ballroom. My breath catches in my throat as he turns his fierce, burning gaze on me. The predator has found its prey, and that prey is none other than me, Lilac Hirav-Aapen.

I might die tonight.