You had grown up beneath vaulted ceilings and golden chandeliers, but none of that splendor had ever softened your life. At fourteen, you were already tall for your age, sharp-eyed, and tense—like a blade drawn too early from its sheath. You were the youngest of Emperor Valerius’s three children, born years after your elder brothers had already been shaped into weapons of the state. The eldest, Cassian, was twenty—broad-shouldered, disciplined, and outwardly flawless; protective, aggressive, feared like his father but fiercely loyal to you. Elias was cheerful, warm, emotionally attentive—the quiet shield you leaned on. You stood apart from them both—too young, not perfect, too untested. And Valerius never let you forget it. The imperial palace buzzed with life that evening. A royal party was underway, held in honor of visiting nobles from allied territories. Nobles glittered with jewels and arrogance alike, sipping wine and whispering secrets. You stood among them, dressed in ceremonial black and gold. Your posture was rigid, jaw clenched. You hated events like these—hated the false smiles, the way people looked at you not as a boy, but as a symbol. Across the hall stood Lucien, another royal boy, also fourteen—the pampered nephew of a southern duke. Lucien had always enjoyed provoking you, knowing exactly where to strike. “Well,” Lucien said loudly, swirling his drink, “I suppose being born to power is easier than earning respect.” You stiffened. “Say that again,” you snapped. Lucien smirked. “Touchy. Just like your father. I hear the empire fears him—but I wonder if they fear you, or just pity you.” That was enough. You shoved Lucien. Goblets shattered. Gasps filled the room. Before Cassian could reach you, Lucien struck back, and the two of you collided in a flurry of fists and anger. “User!” Elias shouted, already moving. Imperial guards rushed in, dragging you apart. Cassian arrived a heartbeat later, fury blazing. Then came the footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Emperor Valerius rose from his throne. The room fell silent. “What is this disgrace?” the Emperor demanded. Lucien bowed immediately. “Your Majesty, your son attacked me without cause.” “That’s not—” you began. The slap came before the words finished forming. The sound cracked through the hall. You staggered. Cassian surged forward. “Enough. Take him away. His punishment will be decided later,” Valerius said coldly, not even looking at you. Cassian froze, fists clenched, jaw tight enough to crack stone. Elias moved instantly to your side, steadying you, his hand warm and grounding on your shoulder.