Vol 1 Chapter 7: The Light Dims, the Kingdom Shaken

A Knock from the Chamber of Nobles

Inside the majestic hall of the Arclight kingdom, the high ceilings were adorned with paintings of ancestors and crystal chandeliers that trembled gently in the whispers of the spring breeze. But that day, there was no festive cheer. No laughter.

Only silence… a weight hung in the air.

King Aldebaran sat on a silver throne, still as a statue of a night god. His black robes hung like mourning curtains, and his silver crown… felt heavier than ever, as if the sky itself were hanging above his head.

And then they came.

The nobles' footsteps echoed softly but rhythmically. Their rich robes waved like waves at a masquerade ball. They bowed gracefully, their smiles soft as honey… but their eyes were sharp, like knives hidden beneath silk.

“We have come to visit your beloved Prince…
May our presence bring you some encouragement…”

“We have even prepared a healing offering from our family…”

“Allow us, as loyal supporters of the court, to comfort him…”

But King Aldebaran did not smile. He did not nod. He simply stared at them with dark eyes, as dark as obsidian, reflecting no light.

“Your request… is denied.”

Time seemed to freeze. The nobles fell silent, as if even the wind that usually blew their robes had disappeared.

“Prince Lune is undergoing a full recovery.
And for now, no one is permitted to see him.
Not the nobles. Not the elders. Not even the advisors.”

“This decision is final.”

Their sweet smiles slowly cracked, like mirrors shattered from within. They bowed again, this time less gracefully, then turned away with steps that tried to maintain dignity. But their hearts… were full of questions.

One of them paused for a moment. It was a dark-haired man with dark eyes, Count Vermi, Cinderella’s father. His hands were folded beneath the family’s proud black robe, but his thoughts were foggy.

“Prince Lune has fallen ill… Cinderella must be sad… Should I find another candidate? Or… let Cinderella wallow in her sorrow?”

He walked away with a heavy face, but before he could sink into his thoughts, someone greeted him from the shadow of the pillar.
Count Herman, an elderly nobleman with a silver beard and eyes like an old hawk who never stopped watching the political skies.

“Count Vermi, shall we continue to support the Prince?”

“The King’s announcement is too suspicious.”

“What if the Prince is ill for too long?”

“The Prince can sleep, but politics cannot.”

Count Vermi’s face hardened, but his tone remained calm. Like water that refuses to become cloudy.

“Count Herman, you can change your ways.
But I still believe in Prince Lune.
Besides, my daughter has always longed for him.
Don’t drag me into troubled waters.”

Herman narrowed his eyes, offended by the reluctance.

“I see. Don’t blame me for not defending you, Count Vermi.
The Prince can sleep, but the palace cannot. You know that fact, don’t you?”

Two elders. Two honours. Two directions that would tear the kingdom apart.
And from there, a small crack began to creep beneath the crown.

—

Rumors in the Air

Outside the palace, the world was no longer normal.

The market lost its colour. Flower carts sold more white flowers than usual. Children stopped playing in front of the Prince's statue—their eyes staring blankly at the blue sky that felt… too still.

“Is it true that the Prince is seriously ill?”

“Isn't he our hero? Isn't the kingdom of Darkness still in turmoil?
If he falls… who will protect us?”

“Why doesn't the kingdom reveal him? Is his condition… more serious than they say?”
In the crowd, a little girl was held by her mother. Her eyes were round, innocent, full of trust.

“Mommy, can heroes get sick?”

The question was like an arrow piercing the air.
The young mother fell silent. Then, with a faint smile that held a thousand wounds, she answered:

“Honey, heroes are human, too. They can get hurt. And… get sick.”

“Then, Erie will pray every day for the hero to get well.
Mommy always said heroes always come to bring hope.”

The mother hugged her daughter tightly. In that trembling embrace… that hope endured.
But those prayers weren't alone.

Underground, from hallway to hallway, from dark corners untouched by light…

Shadows began to move.

In a narrow, damp room, figures in black robes gathered. No names. No faces. Only voices.

“The kingdom's light is dimming… Isn't this our chance to act?”

“You're right… this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Today the shadows will no longer hide behind the light.”

—

A Meeting of Two Powers

In a secluded chamber in the highest tower, where windows beckoned the stars and mirrors hung like celestial eyes… High Mage Elaria weaved a web of light.

Her hands were graceful.
Her aura was serene.
But the web… began to tremble.
Someone was coming.

“Elaria.”

The voice echoed like an evening bell. From the doorway, High Priestess Capitalia stood. Her robes were pure white, her necklace radiating a divine light.

But her eyes…
Sharp. Solemn. Suspicious.

“I come… not as a challenger to the kingdom. But as a guardian of conscience.”

“The prince… was a gift from heaven. And now… he is gone from the world.”

“I ask... no, beg... you for an explanation.”

Elaria didn’t immediately answer. Her eyes were purple like a twilight too old to cry. She stared at the candlelight.

“Forgive me, Your Grace Priestess…

I cannot tell you anything....
except one thing:
Trust in the kingdom.”

“Trust that the light is being tended by the gentlest… and most faithful hands.”

“Are you… hiding something from me?”

Elaria closed her eyes. Silence. No answer.

“The Prince… isn’t just sleeping, is he?”

“Why are you hiding something from us?”

“Wasn’t the prince blessed to be a hero by the church of light?”

There were no words. Only movement. The crystal staff was raised… and the candlelight extinguished, as if night had swallowed all possibility.

“Let this night pass in silence… before morning comes again."

The High Priestess left. Her steps were heavy. But heavier still… was the slowly fracturing of trust.

“The church only sees you as their symbol. They even equate you with the Saintess.”

Elaria said silently. Elaria smiled faintly but unhappily.

“Will they accept that their hero…
is now helpless in bed?
Prince Lune… I can only trust you.
But without you… the shadows will begin to stir…”

Elaria remained silent, her eyes fixed on the sky. The wind blew, making her hair flutter.

“Get up, Lune… because we… can’t wait forever.”

—

A Broken Wing in the Palace Corridors

The magnificent palace no longer shone. The corridors were filled with silence, as if even the wind refused to blow.
The kitchen was silent. The knights’ training had lost its spirit. The servants stood like statues, waiting for orders that never came.

“What? Is Prince Lune sick? It can’t be!”

Tang… tang… tang…

Plate fell. Soup flowed across the floor like unstoppable tears.

“I saw him at the ball yesterday…”

“Is the Prince just sick?”

“Why can’t we even see his face?”

“He didn’t even get to greet us…”But amidst the shock… one smile remained.
Anna.

A servant girl with a white ribbon in her hair. Her steps were small, but her heart was steadier than a shield.
She patted the young servant on the shoulder. She served the knight tea. Walking from one wing to the other.

“The Prince will be fine…”

“He just needs to rest, you know how hard he works…”

“We just need to believe, okay? Just like before…”

But when night fell…
And everyone was asleep…

Anna fell to her knees in her room.
She remained silent for a long time.
Before tears flowed from her golden eyes.
Her cries were silent.
But her cheeks were wet.
Her body trembled.
Her face looked clouded.

“I’m sorry, Prince… for hiding the world from you…”

“But if this can make them believe…”

“If this can keep everyone together…”

“I’m willing to be a small lie amidst loyalty…”

“Wake up quickly, my Prince… your Anna is waiting for you.”

That night, Anna couldn’t sleep soundly. Her prince, who usually gave her a warm smile, was fast asleep, not knowing when he would wake. Anna could only wait… wait… and wait… while keeping her heart from being shattered by the tide of time.

—

Ripples Behind the Crown

Night fell… like a black curtain enveloping the entire kingdom in uncertainty.

The prince still slept.
And the world… began to wonder…

Will they ever see his smile again?

And deep beneath the crown that should have been magnificent…
Something began to stir.

One body slept… but the entire kingdom lost its pulse…
And that night, something that should not have happened… began to stir.