Absolute Sovereignty
Chapter 39: The King’s Pride

Chapter 39: The King’s Pride

The silence in the council chamber was absolute, broken only by the drip, drip, drip of blood echoing from the severed neck of Lord Alaric.

The provincial lords, their faces pale and drawn, sat frozen in their seats, their eyes wide with a mixture of horror and morbid fascination.

The message was clear: the Ash Prince, the once-mocked drunkard, was no longer a figure to be trifled with. He had seized control of Caldris with an iron fist, and anyone who dared to challenge his authority would meet a swift and brutal end.

Kaelen’s gaze swept across the faces of the assembled lords, his expression cold and impassive.

"Are my words understood?" he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper, yet carrying a weight of authority that resonated through the chamber.

The lords, their fear overriding any lingering resentment, nodded their heads in unison, their voices a chorus of hushed assent.

"Yes, Your Highness," they murmured, their gazes fixed on the floor, avoiding his eyes, the very thought of challenging him again enough to make their hands tremble.

One of the lords, Lord Marius of Oakhaven, a wizened old man with a reputation for caution, hesitantly raised a hand.

"Your Highness," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "if I may... there is still the matter of... the Crimson Hand. They still hold considerable power and influence within Silverstream, Sunstone, and Whisperwind. What are your plans for... dealing with them?"

"I have it... under control, Lord Marius," Kaelen replied, his tone dismissive. "Come the next few days, they will either submit... or they will die." He paused, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light. "One way or another, their hold on Caldris will be... severed."

He dismissed the council with a wave of his hand, the lords scrambling to their feet, eager to escape the suffocating tension that filled the chamber.

They filed out of the room, their footsteps echoing on the stone floor, their minds reeling from the events they had just witnessed. The Ash Prince had made his intentions clear.

Caldris was his, and he would rule it with an iron fist.

Kaelen turned and left the council chamber, his movements fluid and purposeful, his mind already focused on the next stage of his plan.

He made his way towards his father’s study, a small, secluded room tucked away in a quiet corner of Vernal Keep.

He knocked softly on the door, and a muffled "Enter" came from within. He opened the door, stepping into the familiar room, the air thick with the scent of old books and pipe tobacco.

King Alden sat behind his large oak desk, his gaze fixed on a thick, leather-bound volume. He looked up as Kaelen entered, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

"Kaelen," he said, his voice warm and welcoming, a contrast to the cold, hard tone he had used in the council chamber.

"You’ve... changed."

Kaelen nodded, his expression carefully neutral.

"So have you, Father," he replied, his voice low and thoughtful. He could no longer remember what his father had looked like before he died in his last life, or sounded.

The corruption had progressed to a dangerous point, and now it seemed his memories were fading at an even quicker pace, despite his efforts to consolidate his essence.

All he could about the king from his past life was his father’s frail body as he got closer to death.

"I... I see glimpses of... him... in you," Alden continued, his voice hesitant, his gaze searching Kaelen’s face, like a stranger in his own home.

"The... the strength. The... resolve. The boy I sent off to die at the Conclave with nothing but trust in him to return, the one I could barely even consider a soldier, a boy who did not know the meaning of war... that boy is gone now."

He let out a heavy sigh. "Perhaps... perhaps someday... your sister can return, too. All that I ask for is to see my children’s faces just once more before my time comes to an end."

Kaelen’s heart ached at his father’s words, a flicker of warmth amidst the encroaching darkness, but he could barely feel anything.

He could recall his sister but had no true understanding of what she was to him, or what their relationship was like.

He was losing himself piece by piece, his identity crumbling before his own eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His own face, now felt distant, his own body not fully his any more.

"I... I’m proud of you, son," Alden said, his voice thick with emotion. "Truly."

The words, simple yet powerful, resonated within Kaelen, striking a chord deep within his soul.

A warmth spread through his chest, pushing back the cold, suffocating grip of the Voidwell, the darkness momentarily receding.

He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling, the connection, the love that he had nearly forgotten. The memories felt more real, as though the corruption, at that moment, had ceased entirely and time itself had become an infinite stretch of his present and his past.

The System pulsed in his vision.

[Corruption Reduced: 10%]

He opened his eyes, his gaze meeting his father’s.

He nodded, a silent acknowledgment of his father’s words, his pride, his love. He turned and left the study, the warmth of his father’s words a shield against the encroaching darkness.

Commander Lyra waited for him outside the study, her expression carefully neutral. She fell into step behind him as he walked down the hallway, her silence a comfortable presence.

"Ready the Silent Guard, Commander," he instructed, his voice low and steady. "We pay Red and his men a visit tomorrow."

"Do you think they’ll... accept your proposal, Your Highness?" Lyra asked, her voice hesitant.

Kaelen’s lips curled into a cold smile.

"They don’t have much of an option, Commander," he replied, his voice hard. "They serve Caldris... or we feed the lot of them to the Voidwell. It is their choice. Not mine. Not ours."

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