Chapter Two

  A heavy silence settled over the room as Ether stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the cabinet.

  Then, Holo’s chuckling shattered the stillness. Amid her laughter, she teased, “You’re gonna make them pay?” before resuming her mirth.

  “Stop laughing! I’m not amused." Ether gritted his teeth, his face contorting.

  Holo paused. Then, with a shift in her tone, she remarked, “Well… then first, you’ll have to find out who harmed you, no?”

  Running his hand through his hair, Ether muttered under his breath, “You’re right.”

  Before Holo could reply, Ether opened the cabinet door. He rummaged through the clothes, scattering them across the room as a distinct scent of lavender filled the air.

  After a few minutes, he finally found what he had been searching for—a pendant his mother had given him. Its chain was silver, and a small amber-colored crystal hung from it.

  A brief smile flickered across his face as he struggled to fasten the pendant, memories of the queen flooding back. Once the pendant was securely fastened, Ether exhaled a slow sigh.

  The pendant had always been Ether's only option for dealing with nights like these. It acted as a barrier, protecting the cursed soul from the blood moon's influence.

  Letting out a slow cough, Ether walked a few steps towards the door. As if remembering something he stopped, “Do… you know how I can find whoever hurt me, Holo?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Holo’s voice carried an air of amusement.

  Ether’s eyes glimmered with anticipation. “Then tell me.”

  “Ah,” Holo paused, her usual playfulness giving way to an unusual seriousness. Then, after a deliberate beat, she said, “No.”

  Ether’s hands clenched. His tone sharpened with impatience. “What do you mean, no?”

  Unbothered by his frustration, Holo’s voice took on a mocking lilt. “Well, I contracted you as a companion, yes? Not as a mother.”

  "You–" Ether forced a smile, "Fine. I will do it on my own. It was my fault for being dependent in the first place."

  Moments passed, silence settling over the room. Holo didn't reply, why would she? He's determined to do it himself.

  After pacing the room several times, the prince finally decided to set out. Standing here lost in thought, wasn’t going to solve anything.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Ether turned, "I am–" the words caught in Ether’s throat as his vision darkened.

  A wave of dizziness crashed over him. Staggering back, he lost his balance and collapsed onto the floor. Not again...

  —

  Golden rays of early sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over Ether’s unconscious form. The gentle heat against his eyelids stirred him awake.

  Did I collapse?

  Why does this always happen! His gaze swept the room. The mess he had caused the night before had been cleaned, though remnants of chaos still lingered in the air.

  "Was it the new maid?” He muttered under his breath, his voice queer.

  Shrugging off the ennui, Ether pushed himself upright, moving with practiced lethargy.

  He walked to the window, his gaze tracing the distant mountains that encircled Unova, the capital he called home. The sun crested the peaks, its golden rays illuminating the dark clouds creeping in from the east.

  After taking in the view for a while, Ether turned to his morning routine. He bathed, meticulously tending to his skin and hair, then brushed his teeth with practiced precision, his motions unrushed.

  Dressed at last, Ether stood before the mirror. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.

  His reflection remained unchanged—youthful, almost childlike features marred by the long scar running across his face.

  His red hair draped over his shoulders like silk. His skin, milky white. Unlike his siblings, it lacked their golden hue, a subtle reminder that he never truly belonged among them.

  The pendant still hung of his neck, the crystal glowing with an orange hue.

  With slow, deliberate strokes, Ether brushed his hair, only stopping when a knock echoed from the door.

  “May I come in?” Pinty’s voice filtered through the wood.

  Moments later, he gave a curt nod, signaling for the maid to enter. Pinty stepped inside silently, her movements hesitant. She paused for a moment before setting the breakfast she’d brought on the table.

  The scent of freshly baked bread, ripe fruit, and the rich aroma of black tea filled the room—Ether's usual breakfast.

  He took a deep breath, a smile creeping onto his face. "Smells really good."

  Holo chuckled in his mind. "You've forgotten your resolve for revenge from midnight?"

  Ignoring Holo's remark, Ether smiled as he called out to the maid. "Is my family in the banquet hall?"

  The maid, about to leave, hesitated before bowing, "Yes..." She paused, unsure of wether she should inform Ether.

  "Go on," Ether insisted in a mildly annoyed tone.

  Pinty nodded. "The Second Prince insisted on Mana beast delicacies today."

  Ether's eye twitched, his smile fading.

  ___

  Ether pushed open the banquet hall doors. The air was thick with the scent of seared frost-whale and spiced wine—luxury laced with malice.

  The Second Prince smirked from his seat, swirling his goblet. "Brother! We almost thought you’d skip your own welcome feast."

  At the head of the table, the King carved into his meat, not glancing up. Glint stood rigid against the far wall, his military whites immaculate—but his knuckles whitened around his dagger hilt

  Ether’s stomach turned. Every dish was Frost Sea delicacies—food that would make him retch if he swallowed a bite.

  The First Prince sighed, pushing his plate away. "Must we always cater to your theatrics, Cassian?"

  The Second Prince—Cassian—grinned. "Oh, come now. Our exiled brother must miss real cuisine."

  Holo’s voice coiled in Ether’s mind: "You could play nice... but where’s the fun in that?"

  Glint’s gaze flicked to Ether—a silent warning.

  Ether lifted his fork—

  —then flipped his plate upside down with a clatter.

  "I’ve lost my appetite."

  Silence.

  Cassian’s smile froze. The First Prince pinched the bridge of his nose. The King finally looked up.

  "Ether," the King said. Ether’s breath caught—not at the insult, but at the gleam in the King’s eyes. This was never about food.

  Glint’s dagger unsheathed an inch—not to strike, but to steady himself

  ___