Fated flame's

The soft morning light filtered through the silk curtains of Rendyll's chamber, bathing the room in a warm golden hue. He stirred under the covers, groaning as he turned to his side. The scent of roses from the gardens below wafted in, mingling with the faint aroma of breakfast being prepared in the royal kitchens.

Just as he considered pulling the covers over his head to steal a few more minutes of sleep, the door creaked open. He recognized the sound of light, deliberate footsteps before he even turned.

"Rendyll," came a calm but firm voice.

He peeked from under the blanket to see Queen Amaara standing at the foot of his bed, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Her dark, graceful gown shimmered faintly in the morning light, and her presence carried the quiet authority that had always made her stand apart from the other queens.

"Good morning, Mother," Rendyll greeted groggily, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"I'm glad you still have the courtesy to call me that," she said, her tone even but tinged with disappointment.

He winced. "Let me guess. You're here about last night."

"You know why I'm here, Rendyll." She stepped closer, her voice still calm. "Why do you insist on doing things your own way? Why must you always behave in a manner that sets you apart from your siblings? The king—your father—was furious. And the queens…" Her voice faltered for a moment before she composed herself. "They've turned me into a joke because of you."

Rendyll's gaze softened. "Mother, I—"

"You're not a child anymore, Rendyll. Do you understand the position you put yourself in? And me?" she asked, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

He sighed, leaning forward. "I don't mean to make things harder for you, mother. You've done more for me than anyone else ever could." His expression was sincere. "i never meant to offended you"

Her lips twitched into a faint smile. "Then why? Why do you insist on making yourself a disappointment to your father?"

Rendyll ran a hand through his messy hair. "Because I don't see things the way he does. I never have. And honestly? I don't think I ever will."

Amaara opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the door burst open, and the room filled with the delighted squeals of three young girls.

"Rendyll!" they chorused, running toward him with an energy that defied the early hour.

The middle of the trio, a bright-eyed girl with braided hair, climbed onto his bed first. "Where were you last night?" she demanded playfully.

"Shh, Aris!" the youngest scolded, giggling.

"Leave him alone!" the eldest chimed in, though her mischievous grin suggested she had no intention of doing so herself.

Rendyll groaned theatrically, earning delighted laughter from the girls. "You three are going to be the death of me."

Amaara watched them with a soft smile, the tension between her and Rendyll momentarily forgotten.

But the moment was short-lived. A knock at the door broke the levity. A guard stepped in, bowing slightly. "Your Highness, the king has summoned you to the throne room."

The playful chaos in the room came to a sudden halt. Amaara's expression turned serious, though her eyes betrayed concern.

Rendyll sighed heavily, throwing the covers off. "Well," he muttered, "time to face the lion in his den."

Rendyll entered the throne room, the atmosphere heavy with tension. His steps echoed as he approached his father, who sat on the throne with a stern expression. The king's regal presence filled the room, his silence sharper than any reprimand.

To his right stood the Crown Prince, Rhaegel, his calm, steady gaze fixed on Rendyll. His four other brothers were present as well—the stoic eldest, the calculating second-born,the third quiet one and the fourth born, who looked nervous for Rendyll .

The king leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Rendyll," he began, his tone measured but laced with displeasure, "do you realize what your absence last night cost this family?"

Rendyll bowed his head slightly, his posture respectful. "No, Father."

The king rose, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "The nobles were watching. The empire sent a representative. And you! were nowhere to be found. You made a mockery of this family, of me."

Rendyll kept his gaze steady, his jaw tightening. He said nothing, knowing his words would only make matters worse.

The room was silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Then Rhaegel shifted slightly, drawing the king's attention. He didn't speak, but the look in his eyes communicated calm assurance. Rendyll caught the faintest flicker of approval from his elder brother—a subtle reminder to hold his ground but not to push further.

The king's gaze lingered on Rhaegel before he continued, his voice quieter but no less firm. "This is not just about missing a celebration, Rendyll. This is about what it represents. Discipline. Unity. Respect. All things you seem intent on rejecting."

Still, Rendyll remained silent. He didn't hate his father, but there was no love in their bond, either—only the faint, reluctant respect born from how deeply the king loved Queen Amaara, Rendyll's mother. That was the only thread that tied them.

The king sat back on his throne, his voice now cold and final. "Leave my presence, you shall be dealt with later "

Rendyll bowed deeply this time, then turned and left the room. As the doors closed behind him, he felt Rhaegel's gaze linger on him, a silent reminder that he wasn't entirely alone.