A Prince Tried to Expel His Half-Brother from a Royal Arts Competition, Not Knowing the Medallion Proved His True Bloodline
The next morning, the air in the Court of Starlight was thick with nervous energy. Lord Percival’s public disgrace had sent shockwaves through the minor officials. Everyone knew Alaric was behind the forged decree, and his fury was a palpable presence, casting a long shadow over the proceedings.
I found Sir Gideon supervising the delivery of new scrolls to the main archive. He looked strained, his usually placid demeanor replaced by a furrowed brow and tight lips. He clearly felt the increased pressure from Alaric.
“Sir Gideon,” I began, sensing his unease. “Are you well?”
He merely nodded, his gaze sweeping the corridor, as if expecting to be overheard. “The Prince is… displeased. His recent setback has only hardened his resolve.”
As we spoke, a figure emerged from a nearby antechamber. It was one of Alaric’s senior aides, a man named Master Thorne, impeccably dressed and radiating a chilling aura of authority. He approached Gideon with a forced smile, one that didn’t hide the menace in his eyes.
“Sir Gideon,” Thorne purred, his voice smooth as silk. “Prince Alaric wishes to convey his… utmost appreciation for your decades of loyal service to the Crown.”
Gideon stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He knew this wasn’t a compliment.
“The Prince, in his generosity,” Thorne continued, “is aware of your… upcoming retirement. He wishes to offer you a unique opportunity. A lucrative position, as head archivist, in the Royal Palace of Eldoria, a distant but most charming province. A serene posting, far from the… bustling demands of the capital.”
The offer was clearly a bribe, thinly disguised as a generous retirement package. The specific mention of “a distant but most charming province” was a veiled threat. It meant banishment, a way to remove Gideon from the capital and silence his knowledge, isolating him from me and Seraphina. It was a petty, yet effective, form of coercion, a way to strip him of his life’s work and send him away.
“In exchange, of course,” Thorne added, his smile growing sharper, “you would simply need to… confirm. To certain inquisitive Chroniclers, for instance. That your memory of any hidden archives, or any obscure Old King’s edicts related to… irregular lineages, has become somewhat… hazy with age.”
The cruelty was blatant. Alaric wasn’t just offering a new position; he was demanding Gideon betray his principles, his oath, and his quiet loyalty to the truth. He wanted Gideon to publicly recant his knowledge, to discredit himself, and by extension, to undermine any evidence I or Seraphina might find.
Gideon’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and indignation. The color returned to his cheeks, not from fear, but from a quiet, burning outrage. He had always been risk-averse, but this direct assault on his integrity stirred a deep well of courage within him. The thought of being bought, of betraying the trust placed in him by the Old King, was an unbearable insult.
“Master Thorne,” Gideon replied, his voice surprisingly firm, “my memory is, thankfully, as sharp as it has ever been. And my loyalty, sir, is to the true laws of the realm, not to the passing whims of its… more volatile members.”
Thorne’s smile vanished. “That is most unwise, Sir Gideon. The Prince is not known for his patience with… uncooperative servants.”
“Some truths, Master Thorne,” Gideon said, his voice ringing with a quiet defiance that surprised even me, “are too deeply rooted to be simply uprooted. They will always find a way to surface.”
He met Thorne’s icy stare with unwavering conviction. The physical act of standing his ground, a normally timid man defying such blatant intimidation, was a powerful display of moral strength. It was a moment where the personal integrity of one man shone brighter than the corrupt power of a prince.
Thorne narrowed his eyes, then gave a curt nod. “As you wish. Do not say you were not warned.”
He turned on his heel and strode away, his departure leaving a palpable chill in the corridor. Gideon let out a long, shaky breath, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. He looked at me, a faint, proud smile on his lips.
“He truly believed I could be bought,” Gideon murmured, a touch of wonder in his voice. “He understands nothing of true loyalty.”
“You were very brave, Sir Gideon,” I said, my admiration for him immense. His quiet courage, in the face of such a powerful threat, had been truly inspiring.
“Brave?” Gideon scoffed softly. “Perhaps. Or perhaps, simply too old to bend anymore. And too aware of what the Old King truly stood for. Your mother, Kaelen, would have been proud.”
He paused, then added, his voice gaining a new sense of urgency. “Alaric is growing desperate. His attempt to bribe me is a sign. He knows we are closing in. We must find that lost section of the Chronicles. And quickly.”
His refusal to yield, his steadfastness against Alaric’s manipulation, cemented his role as a crucial ally. He had chosen integrity over personal gain, even in the face of professional ruin. This courageous stand, a direct confrontation with the insidious nature of Alaric’s power, cleared the way for Seraphina and me to continue our search. The stakes had been raised, but now, more than ever, I felt a surge of confidence. With Gideon’s steadfastness and Seraphina’s tenacity, the truth of the Old King’s Chronicles felt within our grasp. Alaric’s attempts to suppress the truth were only making it stronger.
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