Shadows Beneath the Crown

Chapter 1: Whispers of Duty and Dreams

Five Days Before the Coronation Night

The warm light of the afternoon sun filtered through the thick curtains of Prince Knoa's chamber, casting a soft glow over the room. He stirred beneath the silk covers, his crimson eyes fluttering open. It wasn't morning anymore, he realized with a start—it was already afternoon. A faint memory of his dream lingered in his mind—a vivid vision of the kingdom's past wars. He saw soldiers clad in majestic armor, their swords glinting in the sunlight, and a proud king leading them to victory. The images were so vivid, they almost felt real.

Knoa sat up abruptly, his shiny white hair is all over his eyes. "The wars... how did we win them?" he whispered to himself. The thought struck a chord of curiosity deep within him. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his small, frail frame barely causing a ripple in the bed linens.

"I need answers." he declared. Without wasting a moment, he rang the bell to summon his servants.

Within minutes, the chamber doors opened, and his attendants entered, bowing respectfully. "Your Highness." one of them greeted.

"Prepare my bath." Knoa instructed, his tone firm yet soft. He slipped off the bed and stretched, his pale skin almost glowing in the sunlight streaming in from the window.

As the servants worked efficiently, drawing warm water and laying out his royal attire, Knoa's mind raced. He couldn't shake the images of the soldiers and the battles from his dream.

After his bath, the attendants dressed him in his majestic white attire adorned with intricate white and gold embroidery. His movements were graceful yet hurried as he buttoned the last clasp himself, impatience radiating from him.

"Your Highness, will you not take lunch before your studies?" one of the servants asked timidly as Knoa moved toward the door.

"There's no time for that," he replied, his voice tinged with urgency. "My studies are more important than my meals. I can eat later."

The servants exchanged worried glances but said nothing as Knoa exited the chamber. "The king will not be pleased," one murmured to another.

"Nor am I," another replied, concern evident in her tone. "The prince's health is delicate. What if he faints again?"

Their whispers trailed off as Knoa disappeared down the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

Upon arriving at the Imperial Library, Knoa's heart quickened. The library was vast, with towering shelves lined with books of all sizes and ages. The faint smell of parchment and ink filled the air—a scent he always found comforting.

He headed straight for the history section, his eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on a large tome with gold lettering on the spine: The Evolution of Montclair's Arms and Forces. His face lit up with a rare, genuine smile. "Found you." he whispered, pulling the book from its place.

Knoa carried the heavy tome to a nearby desk, his excitement palpable. Settling into the chair, he opened the book and began devouring its contents, his quill and journal ready at his side to take notes.

The vast Imperial Library of Montclair Palace buzzed with a quiet energy. Prince Knoa, seated at an oak desk surrounded by towering shelves of ancient tomes, was lost in his studies. His alabaster skin seemed to glow under the warm sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows, his silvery hair catching the light like spun moonlight. A thick book lay open before him, its pages worn with age.

Before him was an ancient tome, The Evolution of Montclair's Arms and Forces. Despite its thick, brittle pages and dense text, Knoa's crimson eyes remained sharp and focused. His delicate hand, pale as porcelain, moved quickly across his leather-bound journal as he jotted down meticulous notes. The prince's crimson eyes scanned the page with unwavering focus, his soft voice murmuring the text aloud.

Knoa's voice echoed softly in the vast space, a mixture of curiosity and analysis. "'The Vanguard Order,' established during King Alaric's reign, was tasked with defending Montclair's borders… but its dissolution came after the insurgence of traitors within."

He paused, his quill hovering over the journal in which he was meticulously jotting notes. His brow furrowed as he mused aloud.

"Why dissolve an entire order for the actions of a few? Could it not have been restructured instead?"

He tapped the quill against his chin, lost in thought.

"The Royal Guard was established during King Alaric's reign… loyalty and discipline were the core values of this elite force." he read aloud and softly. "But what drove that loyalty? Was it born of fear or admiration?"

He frowned slightly, deep in thought, before resuming his writing. The prince's meticulous nature left no detail untouched, and his thirst for knowledge about Montclair's history was insatiable. "'The Order of Everbloom, though short-lived, left an indelible mark on the defense of Montclair Palace…'"

He paused, tilting his head as he scribbled a thought in his notes.

"Short-lived indeed, but perhaps their courage compensates for their lack of foresight." talking by himself softly.

A timid knock interrupted his musings. A young servant entered the library, bowing deeply.

"Your Royal Highness, His Majesty requests your presence at the palace gates. The Lord Commander has returned from his training and awaits your welcome."

Without looking up, Knoa waved a hand dismissively. Knoa barely glanced up, his hand still writing.

"I am busy. Inform His Majesty that I shall greet this Lord Commander when my studies are complete." Knoa said calmly but dismissive.

The servant hesitated but bowed again before retreating. Knoa returned to his book, his concentration unbroken.

The next thirty minutes passed in relative silence, save for the rustling of pages and the rhythmic scratch of the quill. Knoa was so engrossed in his work that he hardly noticed the sound of approaching footsteps. This time, an older servant entered, his demeanour more commanding, bowed even lower than the first.

"Your Royal Highness, forgive my intrusion, but His Majesty urges you to make haste. The Lord Commander awaits, and the King wishes you to greet him personally. He has sent me to personally escort you."

"Must I abandon my studies for this? Very well."

Knoa sighed, closing his book with a soft thud. Rising from his chair, he gathered his journal and tucked it under his arm.

"Is greeting the Lord Commander more important than understanding the forces he commands?" he said softly, under his breath, muttering as he forcefully closed the book and stood

The servant wisely kept quiet as Knoa rose, smoothing the folds of his pristine royal attire. He gave one last glance at the book before reluctantly following the servant out of the library.

On his way to the palace gates, Knoa passed through the grand hallways of Montclair Palace. The opulence around him—golden chandeliers, intricate tapestries depicting Montclair's victories, and the distant hum of palace life—barely registered.

As he approached the gates, the sound of clashing swords echoed faintly from the training grounds. He paused briefly, gazing out of a nearby window. Below, knights sparred with precision, their movements a dance of discipline and strength.

"Such dedication. Yet, where was this discipline when Montclair was nearly overthrown decades ago? Perhaps the history books I read are more about ideals than reality." Knoa thinking to himself.

The gates of Montclair Palace were as grand as they were imposing, a testament to the kingdom's wealth and power. The king stood at the forefront, his presence commanding, flanked by a retinue of knights in ceremonial armor. The king greeted his son with a warm smile. Several nobles and guards stood nearby, chatting amongst themselves. But the Lord Commander was nowhere to be seen.

"There you are, my son. Come, let me introduce—"

Knoa glanced around, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly.

"Introduce me to whom, Father? I see no Lord Commander. Was this a ploy to interrupt my studies?"

The king chuckled, resting a hand on Knoa's shoulder. "No ploy, my boy. The Lord Commander was here, but urgent matters at the barracks required his immediate attention. A pity—you would have been impressed."

Knoa raised a delicate brow, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Impressed by what, exactly? Another knight with an inflated reputation?"

The king grinned, unfazed by his son's tone. "By his skill and, if I may add, his appearance. He's quite the handsome fellow."

Knoa rolled his eyes dramatically, eliciting laughter from the surrounding nobles.

"Father, must you always comment on appearances? Handsome knights are hardly a rarity."

"Ah, but this one is exceptional, Your Highness. A man of great strength and loyalty. Montclair's forces are fortunate to have him." Lord Veran, a seasoned noble standing nearby, chimed in with a chuckle.

Knoa's lips twitched in irritation.

"If you're so enamored with this paragon of knighthood, perhaps you should marry him yourself." Knoa said to the king.

The remark drew stifled laughter from the guards and servants. King Severino shook his head, amused.

"Sharp as ever, my son. Now, tell me, what were you studying so fervently that even the Lord Commander's return couldn't pull you away?"

Knoa hesitated but then admitted, "The history of Montclair's arms and forces."

King Severino raised an eyebrow. "An unusual choice for someone who abhors fighting."

"Father," Knoa began earnestly, "I will be crowned soon, and in two years, I'll be king. It's my duty to know every aspect of this kingdom, including its military history."

The king's stern expression softened into one of pride. He placed a hand on Knoa's shoulder. "You have a wise and diligent heart, my son. I'm proud of you."

Knoa's cheeks tinged faintly pink at the praise. "May I return to my studies now?"

"Of course," King Severino said, stepping aside. "But before you go, have you given any thought to the coronation night and the festival that follows?"

Before Knoa could respond, a new voice joined the conversation—a young noblewoman, Lady Eleanor, approached with a curtsy.

"Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, forgive my sudden intrusion. We've finalized the plans for the festival following the coronation night. I was hoping to confirm a few details. The festival is all anyone speaks of in court these days."

Knoa glanced at his father, curious. "Festival? What festival?"

"Ah, yes. It slipped my mind to mention. After your coronation, there will be a grand celebration in the city square—a feast, music, and performances to honor our people and your ascent as Crown Prince." King Severino answered.

The king smiled warmly. "Lady Eleanor, you're always welcome. Tell us—what is the mood among the nobles?"

"Excited, Your Majesty," she replied. "The coronation is a momentous occasion, and the festival promises grandeur. There's talk of hosting a grand masquerade, fireworks displays over the Montclair Lake, and a jousting tournament in your honor, Your Highness."

Knoa's eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. "A jousting tournament? That seems excessive."

Lady Eleanor giggled lightly. "Perhaps, but the knights are eager to showcase their skills for their future king."

The prince sighed softly. "I would prefer something quieter—something that honors the kingdom's history and unity."

King Severino chuckled. "Ever the scholar. But the people adore you, Knoa. Let them celebrate in their own way."

Another noble, Lord Harrick, joined the group. "Your Majesty, if I may, the festival could include an exhibition of Montclair's history—tableaux depicting the great wars and achievements of our kingdom."

Knoa's expression brightened. A topic he is interested about. "That would be splendid. It would educate the people and honor those who came before us."

The king nodded approvingly. "Then it's settled. We'll blend tradition with festivity."

"We'll also arranged for dancers, musicians, and even a troupe of aerial performers from the southern provinces. The marketplace will be transformed into a lively fairground." Lady Eleanor added.

Knoa blinked, his expression softening slightly. "I see… That sounds rather extravagant."

Lord Veran stepped forward, a twinkle in his eye.

"Extravagance is expected for such an occasion, Your Highness. The people of Montclair adore you, and this will be their chance to celebrate your future reign."

Knoa hesitated, his voice quieter now.

"I only hope I can meet their expectations."

King Severino placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "You already do, Knoa. Trust in yourself."

As the conversation continued, the group moved toward the gates, where preparations for the festival were already underway. Merchants and craftsmen bustled about, setting up colorful stalls and stringing lights.

Knoa found himself drawn to a group of children gathered near a fountain, their laughter ringing through the air. He smiled faintly, his earlier irritation fading.

"Perhaps a celebration isn't such a terrible idea after all." he said softly to himself.

Lady Eleanor noticed his gaze and approached.

"The children are excited to see you on coronation night, Your Highness. Many of them have never been this close to the royal family before."

Knoa nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Then I must ensure I do not disappoint them."

As the conversation wound down, Knoa excused himself to return to the library. The excitement of the coronation and festival lingered in his mind, but his focus remained steadfast on understanding the kingdom's past. Yet, as he passed through the palace halls, he couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious Lord Commander and the role this man would play in his future.

Returning to the library, Knoa resumed his studies with renewed determination. As he delved deeper into the book, his mind began to wander. He imagined the knights of old, clad in heavy armor, wielding swords that gleamed in the sunlight.

The library had grown dim, with only a few flickering candles casting shadows on the walls. Knoa sat hunched over his desk, his journal now filled with meticulous notes detailing the evolution of Montclair's forces.

"The Lord Commander's role… is the pinnacle of the Montclair forces—a position forged during the rebellion of King Alaric's reign. The highest rank among the knights, entrusted with protecting the royal family, the crown and commanding the army. Each Lord Commander must endure rigorous trials… fascinating." Knoa murmured aloud.

"Strength alone does not win wars. Strategy, loyalty, and unity—these are the true weapons of a kingdom."

He jotted the thought into his journal, his handwriting neat and deliberate. The hours passed unnoticed until the faint glow of sunset gave way to the dark embrace of night.

"How time flies. No wonder my head aches." As he closed the final page of the tome, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, accompanied by a dull ache in his head. He rose to return the book to its place on the shelf but stumbled slightly, his head aching from the hours of intense focus.

As Knoa stepped outside the library, he collided with a solid figure. The clang of armor startled him, and he instinctively stepped back, his pale features twisting into a frown. Looking up, he saw the chest of a knight, the royal insignia gleaming on the armor.

"Watch where you're going." The prince snarled softly s he straightened.

Before the knight could respond and before he could lift his gaze to the knight's face, a servant's voice interrupted.

"Your Royal Highness, dinner is ready. His Majesty and the Lord Commander await you in the dining hall. Do you wish to join them, or shall dinner be brought to your chambers?"

"My chambers. I am far too tired for company. Ensure the food is not overly rich as I have little appetite tonight. My head hurts." Knoa said, stifling a yawn, his tone curt.

As the servant bowed deeply and departed. Knoa began walking toward his chambers, but he stole a glance at the knight he had bumped into. But the man was already walking past him into the library. Despite himself, Knoa's gaze lingered on the knight's broad shoulders and impeccable posture. Though the man's face was obscured, his physique was striking. Something about the man's presence was imposing yet strangely familiar. But Knoa dismissed the thought, turning to head toward his chambers.

"What am I saying? Of course, he has a good physique. He's a knight." Knoa said thinking to himself with a frown.

Shaking off the thought, he continued walking toward his chambers.

As he walked away, the knight remained still, watching the prince's retreating figure.

As Knoa disappeared into the corridor, the knight paused. His hand lingered on the library door as he turned to watch the retreating figure of Prince Knoa. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"It's been a long time, my prince." the knight said softly, as if speaking to himself.

And with that, he entered the library, the door clicking shut behind him and his figure disappearing into the flickering candlelight.