The sky was calm that morning.
The kind of calm that felt too quiet.
Ray stood by the window of his chambers, arms crossed behind his back. The soft breeze stirred the silk curtains, and the faint smell of roses from the palace gardens drifted in. Yet, his mind wasn't calm. Not even close.
He had barely slept the night before.
It had been three days since he confirmed the truth—he wasn't cursed.
Which meant someone had tampered with his awakening.
On purpose.
Someone had ruined him before he even had the chance to rise.
The question wasn't just who.
The question was—how far did it go?
Ray's silver eyes narrowed. He had been seventeen when it all began. The failed Awakening. The mockery. The loss of credibility. From there, everything had spiraled.
But it started with that ceremony.
Now, he had a chance to stop it before it happened again.
And this time, he would find out who pulled the strings.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in," Ray said.
The door opened, and George stepped inside. His presence was quiet, calm—like a shadow that followed silently. He wore his usual butler's uniform, neat and crisp, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed his other identity: a trained assassin, and Ray's most trusted guardian.
George bowed respectfully. "Your Highness."
Ray gave a tired nod. "Everything prepared?"
"Yes. I've stationed two of our men within the ceremonial hall. Hidden, of course. They'll monitor anyone who gets close to the magical conduits or tries to interact with the ritual tools. I've also planted a trace spell on the ceremonial artifacts," George explained. "If anyone tampers with them again, we'll know."
Ray turned from the window and walked to the center table. A map of the palace's western wing was laid out, with markers on specific rooms.
"Good," Ray said. "What about the suspects?"
George gave him a list—names written in Ray's own code, a cipher only they two could understand. There were five.
One was a low-ranking noble assigned to assist the mages during the ceremony.
Another was a senior court magician with access to ritual components.
Two more were servants—one assigned to handle robes, the other to manage refreshments.
And the last… a young palace priest. Soft-spoken. Harmless-looking.
But Ray knew better than to trust appearances.
"They all had access. Direct or indirect," George said. "But the strongest suspicion falls on this one." He pointed to the name of the priest. "He disappeared from the palace two days after your last awakening. No one could find him."
Ray's jaw clenched.
"Then we watch him closely."
---
Over the next two days, Ray acted the part of a confused noble prince.
He visited the palace gardens. Ate in the common dining halls. Trained lightly in sword forms. Laughed and joked with young nobles who still respected him.
He showed no signs of suspicion.
But beneath that mask, he was watching. Every glance, every move, every conversation.
George and his hidden allies watched the five suspects day and night. Every meal. Every meeting. Every room entered or exited.
And then it happened.
The night before the Awakening Ceremony.
One of the surveillance spells activated.
Ray had just finished a fake training session when George appeared by his side, quiet as a shadow.
"He made a move," George whispered. "The priest."
Ray's heart sped up. "Where?"
"South wing. The ceremonial prep room. He sneaked in through a maintenance tunnel. Our men tracked him but didn't intercept. He placed something beneath the blessing table."
Ray nodded. "Let's not stop him yet."
George raised an eyebrow. "You want to let him finish?"
Ray's voice was cold. "If we stop him now, we'll never know how deep it goes. I want him to think he's succeeded. I want to see what he does after."
George gave a silent nod. "Understood."
---
That night, Ray could barely sleep.
He kept his breathing calm. He lay in his bed like he was resting peacefully.
But inside, he was preparing for war.
The next morning, as the sun rose gently over the horizon, casting a golden hue on the palace towers, Ray sat dressed in a simple robe—his expression quiet, controlled.
George entered without knocking.
"It's time."
Ray stood.
"Let's end this."
---
The ceremonial hall was quiet.
Too quiet.
Ray stood on the polished marble floor, pretending to review the arrangements for tomorrow's event. Candles burned slowly around the room. In the center was the Awakening altar, surrounded by sacred markings.
The moment Ray gave the signal, George and two others stepped out of the shadows. Silent. Swift. Armed.
They cornered the priest near the rear exit, where he had been trying to slip out unnoticed.
The man froze.
"W-What is the meaning of this?" he stammered, eyes darting between Ray and the guards.
Ray walked slowly toward him.
The priest's fear grew with every step.
"You were here last night," Ray said, voice steady. "You placed something beneath the altar. A curse seal hidden in a cleansing ward. Smart. If I hadn't checked it personally, I might not have noticed."
The priest's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.
"I-I was following orders!" he blurted. "I didn't— I never meant harm!"
Ray's heart skipped.
Orders?
"Whose orders?" he demanded, stepping closer.
The priest opened his mouth.
And then—
He stopped.
His eyes went wide.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
Ray stared, frozen.
The priest collapsed—lifeless. A thin, needle-like dart stuck in the side of his neck.
George rushed forward, checked the pulse, then cursed under his breath.
"Dead. Fast-acting poison. Very precise."
Ray stood still, fists clenched.
Someone had silenced him.
Before he could speak.
Before Ray could get the name.
"Check the surroundings," Ray said quietly. "If there's a sniper, find them."
But there was nothing.
No trace.
No signs of movement.
Nothing.
Just a dead man who carried the key to Ray's past—and someone else pulling strings from the dark.
---
That night, Ray sat in silence by the fire in his study.
George poured him tea without speaking.
Ray stared at the flames, lost in thought.
They had almost caught the traitor. Almost. He was so close to getting the truth.
And yet, someone else was playing a bigger game.
Someone who was watching their every move. Who knew when to strike. Who knew how to kill without leaving a trace.
George sat across from him.
"He said he followed orders," he said quietly. "That means someone else is behind this."
Ray nodded. "And they're still in the palace."
George hesitated. "What should we do now?"
Ray closed his eyes.
He remembered the execution platform. The blood. The stones. The betrayal.
Not again.
Never again.
"We continue," Ray said softly. "We keep pretending. Smiling. Laughing. Playing the part."
George tilted his head. "And underneath?"
Ray opened his eyes—cold, sharp, filled with purpose.
"We dig. We observe. And we wait."
He looked down at his silver ring—the one his mother left behind.
"You can silence a voice," he whispered, "but not the truth."
"Whoever you are… I'll find you."
Ray knew watching and waiting wasn't enough.
He had to force their hand.
So, he began whispering lies into the right ears.
It started with a simple conversation near the training yard, loud enough for passing ears to catch.
"I heard Prince Ray's affinity has been classified again," one knight murmured to another.
"Classified? Why?" the other asked.
"They say it's too rare. Dangerous even. A spirit that hadn't contracted with anyone in centuries."
Ray let the rumor spread like wildfire. He dropped casual hints during meals, murmured cryptic lines when walking past the palace scribes. George helped too—letting slips of forged documents and exaggerated 'test results' fall into the hands of the curious.
Soon, the palace was buzzing.
"They say he has a spirit of ancient origin."
"Did you know he broke a crystal during testing?"
"Someone saw him glow during training."
Ray even faked a meeting with a Grand Magus, letting it be seen from a distance. He wore a white robe embroidered with mystical runes—just enough to look suspiciously important.
It worked better than he imagined.
People began treating him differently. Some with awe, others with fear. But most important of all—the saboteur was forced to act.
They couldn't risk him regaining his reputation.
They would try to sabotage the Awakening again.
And Ray would be ready this time.