Fated flame's

The royal palace was alive with its usual bustle, from the echoing chatter of servants to the faint clatter of kitchen utensils. But beyond the gilded walls and polished floors, what truly made the palace vibrant was its royal family—a sprawling web of personalities, rivalries, and bonds that intertwined across generations.

Rendyll's family was unlike any other. With nine queens and 24 children, it was a world unto itself. Being the middle child was both a blessing and a curse. He was neither the shining beacon of potential like his elder siblings nor the innocent novelty of the youngest. He existed in a liminal space, where he could slip between responsibilities, much to his father's dismay.

His siblings, however, were the glue that kept him grounded. Rendyll's favorite among them was Rhaegel, the Crown Prince, a man of wisdom and composure. Though worlds apart in temperament, the two shared an unspoken understanding. Rhaegel's steady hand and quiet counsel had often kept Rendyll out of trouble—or at least lessened the severity of it.

Then there was Elisa, Queen Lyssandra's 16-year-old daughter. Bright, curious, and endlessly mischievous, Elisa had a way of drawing laughter even from Rendyll's most serious moments. She reminded him of what it meant to love freely, without expectation or judgment, and for that, she held a special place in his heart.

The nine queens were a force to be reckoned with, each carving her place in the hierarchy of the palace. Their names carried weight: Amaara, the serene mother of Rendyll; Elvanna, the queen who had borne Rhaegel and thus held an undeniable air of superiority; Seliora, the fiery mother of the second-born; and the others—Katria, Lyssandra, Nevara, Tahlina, Ophelia, and Meryn. Of these, the queens with sons were the proudest, their statuses elevated by their ability to continue the royal line.

Of the 24 children, only five were boys and Rendyll was the youngest son. This imbalance made the brothers a rarity, their existence a source of quiet competition among the queens. It was no secret that the queens with sons reveled in their victories, subtly flaunting their achievements in the court's ever-present game of intrigue.

Despite the simmering rivalries between their mothers, the siblings were remarkably close. Rendyll often marveled at how seamlessly they managed to get along, as though the venom of their mothers' words never touched them. Most of his older sisters were married off to noble families, strengthening alliances and expanding the kingdom's reach. Even Rhaegel and the second-born brother, Rhaedyn, were married, their unions further cementing the dynasty's power.

Yet within this sprawling family, Rendyll found solace in the bonds they shared. Their laughter echoed through the halls, their disagreements were fleeting, and their love despite the odds was unwavering.

Rendyll stood at the top of the castle, his favorite spot in the entire palace. The wind tugged at his dark hair as he leaned against the stone railing, gazing down at the courtyard below. The bustling movement of servants and people carrying out their daily tasks was strangely soothing. Up here, he could breathe. Up here, he wasn't a prince—just a man, alone with his thoughts.

"I knew I'd find you here," came a familiar voice from behind him.

Rendyll turned slightly, a smirk forming on his lips as he recognized Rhaegel. "Done with your boring council meeting already?"

Rhaegel approached, his robes pristine as always, his expression unreadable yet calm. "I wouldn't call it boring. Informative, perhaps. And yes, you were the topic of discussion, as you might have guessed."

Rendyll let out a dry laugh. "Let me guess. They called me reckless, irresponsible… unfit. Did they also mention that I'm a bastard?"

Rhaegel's lips quirked in a faint smile, though his eyes softened. "They do love their words. But I didn't come here to repeat them. I'd rather hear your side of the story."

"My side?" Rendyll raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Rhaegel nodded, leaning casually against the railing beside him. "Yes. I want to hear about the fun you had last night. I live vicariously through you, after all."

Rendyll chuckled, shaking his head. "Fun isn't exactly a word I'd use. Let's just say I escaped the palace walls and forgot for a while that I was a prince."

"You know we're not allowed to leave without guards," Rhaegel said, though there was no reprimand in his tone—just curiosity. "Tell me, what's it really like out there?"

Rendyll's gaze drifted to the horizon. "It's… chaotic. Dirty. Loud. But it's real. The people don't care who you are; they don't bow, they don't flatter. You can just exist." Rendyll told him about the places he went to with walda, how they Literally toured the village at night and other fun things they did.

Rhaegel studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. "It must be exhilarating. The kind of life I'll never have." he said

Rendyll turned to face him. "And you envy that?"

"A little," Rhaegel admitted. "I've accepted my role, but it doesn't mean I can't wonder what it's like to be free."

Rendyll quietly started down at the courtyard as he had just seen walda.

Rhaegel followed his brother's gaze and spotted a young maid walking across the courtyard, a basket of fruits balanced on her hip. Even from a distance, it was clear she carried herself differently from the other servants.

The Crown Prince turned back to Rendyll, studying his expression. "Ah, so that's her."

Rendyll shot him a questioning look. "How can you tell?"

"The way you're staring," Rhaegel replied with a knowing smirk. "It's obvious."

Rendyll exhaled sharply, trying to mask his discomfort. "She's just… different."

Rhaegel's smirk faded, "I don't doubt that. But you know how things work here, Rendyll. She's a maid. The king won't allow it."

Rendyll's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Rhaegel rested a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not judging you. Just… don't let your heart lead you where your station can't follow."

With that, the Crown Prince turned and walked away, leaving Rendyll alone with his thoughts once more.