Ryo stood stiffly in front of a tall mirror, turning slightly to examine the royal uniform he had been forced into. Midnight-blue silk embroidered with gold threads hugged his lean frame, his normally unruly hair now tied back into a sleek tail. Even his boots gleamed with polish, and the light scent of lotus oil clung to his freshly scrubbed skin.
"I feel like a doll," he muttered.
From the adjoining chamber, Kiel emerged in a high-collared silver coat trimmed with indigo. His white-blonde hair had been brushed to a ridiculous shine, and the mischievous glint in his eye returned as soon as he saw Ryo.
"You look like a noble's pet," Kiel said with a smirk. "All that's missing is a leash."
Ryo narrowed his eyes. "Oh yeah? You look like you're about to recite tragic poetry about a rose that wronged you."
"Maybe I will," Kiel replied with mock elegance, putting a hand to his chest. "Alas, the blade of my heart was dulled… by shampoo."
They both burst into laughter, the tension in their shoulders easing.
Meanwhile, in another chamber, Lysa stood calmly as attendants adjusted her deep-emerald ensemble. It was less extravagant than the other royals' robes—elegant, sharp, and practical, the perfect blend of warrior and noble. She waved off the final touch-ups and glanced at herself in the mirror.
"Let's see how they handle this," she whispered, a quiet smile playing at her lips.
---
The doors to the Grand Hall of Solstice Flame opened with a deep, echoing creak. Ryo and Kiel entered side by side, eyes wide as they took in the vaulted chamber. Gold and crimson banners lined the towering pillars, while ethereal light drifted from enchanted orbs suspended like stars overhead. A polished obsidian table stretched across the room's center, its surface etched with shifting runes.
Standing at its head was King Varron himself—stoic, towering, and clad in a mantle of raven feathers over his silver battle robes. To his left, Princess Ophelia, radiant in a flowing dress of storm-gray silk, gave them a courteous nod. Beside her stood Princess Theodosia, poised and beautiful, with piercing eyes that studied Ryo curiously.
Next to them stood someone far more unexpected.
"Lysa?!" Ryo blurted.
"Hey cousin," Theodosia said with a smirk.
Lysa waved lazily. "Hey."
Ryo and Kiel exchanged a stunned glance. "Wait, wait, you're part of the royal family?!"
Lysa grinned, clearly enjoying their shock. "Technically. I'm the 'embarrassment' of the bloodline."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Kiel muttered.
Before the moment could spiral further, the chamber's light dimmed—then refocused, as Ardyn Caelus entered through the northern archway.
He moved like wind through silk, wrapped in layers of flowing crimson, hair pinned high with silver accents. His androgynous beauty, sharp features, and feline grace made even royalty look dull in comparison.
"Okay," Kiel whispered with a snort, "who let the glam god in?"
Ryo barely suppressed a grin. "He looks like a final boss and a fashion icon."
Ardyn arched an elegant brow, clearly hearing them.
Before he could respond, King Varron clapped his hands once—sharp and commanding.
The sound echoed like thunder, and both boys immediately straightened, their expressions snapping to seriousness.
"Thank you for coming," Varron began, voice deep and calm. "This is not merely a meeting. It is a reckoning."
He gestured to the obsidian table.
"Sit."
Ryo and Kiel took their places across from the king, with Lysa joining them. Ardyn moved to Varron's right, folding his arms behind his back. Theodosia and Ophelia stood nearby, silent observers.
Varron's eyes landed on Ryo.
"You," he said simply. "Ryo Kurogane. The boy who bled to defy cybernetic gods. The boy who stood when his spine should not have let him."
Ryo swallowed. "I didn't do it to be remembered. I did it because I had to."
"That's exactly why you are remembered," Varron replied.
He produced the crimson scroll from Chapter 13 and placed it on the table.
"This is your file. Sector 13. Classified. Your body broke. Your will didn't. You fought like a man possessed."
"And yet," Ardyn interjected, "you carry no discipline. No strategy. Your power is a flame that lacks a hearth."
Ryo frowned. "I didn't ask for this power. I just use what I have."
Ardyn tilted his head. "That's how fires start wars."
"And sometimes," Lysa said quietly, "they burn down the old to make way for something better."
Varron nodded slowly, eyes drifting toward Kiel.
"You. Vashti. The Ghostblade. Your record is less dramatic but equally interesting. Silent missions. Political assassinations. You've done the Crown's work without knowing it belonged to us."
Kiel's mouth curled slightly. "That's because no one told me I was working for a bunch of peacocks."
Theodosia stifled a laugh. Ardyn rolled his eyes.
"Enough," Varron said. "We are not here to shame. We are here to offer purpose."
He turned his full gaze on Ryo.
"You are to be tested. Not by combat—but by resolve. You will accompany my daughter on her mission to the Eastern Divide. You will protect her—not because she needs it, but because her enemies will think she does."
Ryo blinked. "Wait… Princess Theodosia?"
"Yes," she said, stepping forward. "And I want someone who fights beside me. Not in front of me."
"I'm not a knight," Ryo warned.
"No," she said with a knowing look. "You're a wildfire. That's exactly what I need."
Varron interjected, "The mission departs in two days. Prepare yourselves accordingly. Kiel, you'll accompany them as royal shadow. Lysa, you will advise and coordinate."
Kiel leaned back, whistling. "So we're bodyguards now?"
"Call it what you want," Theodosia said. "Just don't get in my way."
The final words hung in the air like the scent of smoke before a storm. Around them, destiny began to reshape its course—not with a sword stroke or a declaration, but with a shared look between flame and crown.