CHAPTER 23: SHADOWS OF RESENTMENT

Lady Evalina Valerius sat alone in her solar, the afternoon sun breaking through tall glass panes, scattering gold across the Persian rugs and polished marble. She hadn’t touched her tea in a while...the porcelain cup was cold against her fingers, but she clung to it as if warmth might return if she just held on long enough.

Across from her, her brother, Salyer Hammon, had sunk comfortably into a leather chair, his posture lazy but his eyes sharp. That glint of satisfaction in them made Evalina bristle. He always wore that look when things were bending toward his design.

"You look troubled, sister," he said, smooth as ever. Court life had polished his voice into something between silk and venom. "Surely this latest turn of events unsettles you."

Her grip tightened. The very mention of it soured her stomach. "That boy’s popularity makes me sick," she snapped.

Salyer’s brow lifted, feigning surprise. "Kaelen is certainly becoming quite the hero, isn’t he?" His tone was maddeningly neutral, but Evalina felt the name cut through her composure like glass.

"Don’t call him that," she hissed. Her voice slipped lower, sharper. "He’s no hero. He’s a mistake. He should have died out there in those cursed marshes. I prayed for it. Night after night, I prayed the beasts would shred him and spare us all."

She shoved back her chair and strode to the window, fists curling tight at her sides. "Lyren is my son...my flesh, my blood. He is the rightful heir. And yet that... thing slithers back from exile with unnatural magic and everyone acts as though he belongs."

Salyer said nothing for a moment, only watching, the corners of his mouth twitching at the hatred burning in her gaze. He had stoked that fire for years, a careful gardener of her resentment.

"The people adore him," he said finally, with mild detachment.

"The people are fools." Her head whipped toward him, green eyes flashing. "They see a few parlor tricks, a display of his cursed power, and suddenly he’s their savior. They forget Lyren. They forget purity. They forget who was raised for this!"

"And yet..." Salyer leaned forward, the pause deliberate. "Your husband seems rather... intrigued by his eldest son’s newfound talents."

The words hit their target. Evalina’s face drained white. "My husband is blinded. Kaelen has always been a manipulator. Even as a boy...smiling, pretending innocence while stealing everything that should have been Lyren’s."

Her voice faltered, replaced with a trembling urgency. "You promised, Salyer. You promised you would help me protect Lyren’s inheritance."

He rose, moving to her side, his presence a practiced comfort. "And I keep my promises. Have I ever failed you?"

"What about Lyren?" she whispered, guilt flickering through her rage. "He’s changing. Bitter, angry... sometimes I don’t even recognize him."

Salyer’s smile did not waver. "He will make us proud. Very soon. I’ve been... guiding him. Helping him see things clearly."

Her brows knit. "What do you mean?"

"Only that he understands now what men of his standing must. That sometimes words are not enough. That strength means taking what belongs to you rather than waiting for it to be gifted."

A chill ran the length of her spine. "You aren’t saying that Lyren should..."

"I say nothing," Salyer cut her off smoothly. "I only ensure your son knows his choices. All of them."

Evalina sank back into her chair, heart pounding. Part of her recoiled. Another part...the part that had grown hollow watching Kaelen rise while Lyren withered in his shadow...leaned into the dark promise.

Her lips parted. Barely audible, she said, "I want him gone. Whatever it takes. I want Kaelen erased."

Salyer laid a hand gently on her shoulder, his touch almost tender. "Trust me, sister. I have never led you astray. Lyren will have his birthright, and Kaelen... Kaelen will vanish, as he should have years ago."

Evalina wanted to demand details, wanted to know what exactly he planned. But looking into those calm, confident eyes, she only nodded.

"I trust you."

"Good." He kissed her forehead, his smile sharp as a blade. "You’ll see. Everything will fall into place."

When he was gone, Evalina lingered in silence, staring out at the gardens where Lyren had once played alone while Kaelen sat inside, drinking in their father’s praise. She had always known this day would come...the day she would have to act, no matter the cost.

She only prayed her son would be strong enough to do what must be done.

———-

Lyren Valerius hunched over his desk, a fresh letter spread before him. The parchment smelled faintly of wax and ink...fine parchment, expensive, sealed with a crest he did not recognize. The handwriting was elegant.

Another one.

He had been receiving them for weeks now. And it always said one thing.. kill kaelen.

His hands trembled as he read. He should burn it. Gods, he should throw it into the fire and let the smoke carry it away. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Every time he thought of destroying them, he remembered the way people looked at Kaelen. The awe. The respect. Looks that had once been his.

Three months ago, Lyren had been everything House Valerius hoped for. His fire magic had flared to life early, brighter than any heir in a century. Tutors praised him. His father looked at him with pride. Noble houses whispered about alliances.

Now...now they only whispered Kaelen’s name.

Lyren shoved back his chair and crossed to the mirror. His reflection was flawless: the high-boned face of his father, the golden eyes of their bloodline, the posture of an heir trained from birth. Perfect. Everything a Valerius should be.

And yet, behind it all, something darker stared back.

Hatred.

He had tried to smother it. Tried to tell himself there was room for two sons in one house. But every day, Kaelen grew brighter, and Lyren’s own flame dimmed in comparison. The letters had only given shape to what was already festering inside him.

His stepbrother was stealing everything. His inheritance. His father’s gaze. His place.

Lyren returned to the desk, eyes dragging back to the careful script. Whoever this writer was, they understood too well. They knew the laws. The tension. They knew what Kaelen’s survival meant for him. And they offered... solutions.

He thought of Kaelen’s easy smile the last time they spoke, his casual talk of plans and ambitions...as though the future already belonged to him. As though exile had been nothing but training for greatness.

The unfairness burned like acid in Lyren’s throat.

No one had asked Lyren if he wanted this competition. No one had asked if he wanted to spend every meal invisible while Kaelen basked in their father’s approval. He had been the heir. And then, suddenly, he wasn’t.

He folded the letter with care and slid it into the drawer with the others, their corners worn from too many readings. The latest was blunt...accidents could happen. Heroes, after all, often died tragic deaths.

He walked to the window, staring down at the city of Luminis. Somewhere out there, Kaelen was being praised again, no doubt lifting some poor soul from disaster while the crowds sang his name.

Lyren’s jaw clenched. The poison in his chest spread.

He had been trained to lead, to make hard choices for the good of his house. If Kaelen’s presence endangered House Valerius, then wasn’t it his duty to act?

Perhaps it was time to remind his stepbrother that heroes were mortal too.

Lyren sat back at his desk, pulled out fresh parchment, and dipped his quill. His hand no longer shook. Each word he wrote was deliberate, steady, inevitable.

By the time night swallowed the city, Lyren had crossed a line he could

never return from.

And strangely, he felt lighter.