I woke in darkness.

Not the quiet kind.

The kind that watches.

The candle beside my bed had gone out, though no wind had touched it.

My skin was cold. The crown… warm.

Too warm.

“Something’s wrong.”

Then I heard it —

a breath that wasn’t mine.

A ripple in the shadows near the mirror.

Then—

Steel.

A dagger, thrown fast and low.

I rolled to the floor just in time. The blade missed my throat by a finger’s width, embedding into the stone with a crack.

Second attacker. Behind.

I turned—too slow.

A boot slammed into my ribs, throwing me against the wall. Pain exploded in my chest. My vision blurred.

The crown pulsed once on my head.

“Fight, Kael.”

Not a voice I knew.

But something ancient. Urgent. Inside me.

I ducked under another slash. My muscles screamed.

Two of them.

Robes dark as coal. Daggers curved like fangs.

No royal colors. No temple seals.

Just killers.

One lunged again, blade aimed at my chest.

I caught it. Barehanded.

Agony surged as it tore into my palm —

but the crown screamed through me.

Gold fire burst from my veins, surging down my arm and into the blade.

The assassin shrieked.

Their hood caught flame — they staggered back, face melting in magical heat. The blade disintegrated in my grip.

I turned to the second—

Gone.

No door. No sound.

Vanished.

Smoke curled from my fingers.

The bleeding stopped — not naturally. The crown sealed the wound with heat and light.

I fell to my knees.

And understood:

They weren’t trying to kill me.

They were testing me.

The door creaked open.

The High Priest stepped inside, robes like falling ash.

He looked at the scorched walls, the blood on my hands, the crown still glowing.

“You held back,” he said.

“I almost died,” I rasped.

“But you didn’t.”

His voice held no warmth. Only approval.

“Not all threats will wait to announce themselves. This is your kingdom now, Kael. Burn brighter... or be consumed.”