The prince's tenth birthday brought the entire nobility under one roof. The grand palace hall was overflowing with music, laughter, and raised glasses. Chandeliers illuminated the guests' faces as the King and Queen looked upon their only son with pride. That night was supposed to be a happy memory. No one imagined it would be remembered as the last night of the old crown.
The first gunshot silenced the orchestra. Then came another. And another. Screams replaced the music. Nobles ran in desperation as bodies began to fall onto the marble. The air filled with smoke, blood, and despair. The King drew his sword and fought with everything he had to protect his family. Beside him, the Queen clutched the prince with desperate strength, covering her son's small body with her own.
—Take him! Now! —she shouted to the captain of the Royal Guard.
With no time to answer, the guard took the boy into his arms and ran toward a hidden passage. The prince struggled. He cried. He tried to go back to his parents. Before disappearing behind the stone wall, he turned his head one last time. He saw his father fall to his knees. A moment later, he saw his mother collapse to the floor. That was the last time he saw them alive.
After that night, the prince vanished without a trace. Some claimed he had died during the massacre. Others swore he had fled the kingdom. Over the years, his name became a legend.
Shortly after, the King's younger brother took the crown. He promised peace. He promised prosperity. He promised to rebuild the kingdom. He lied. Fifteen years were enough to turn a kingdom full of light into a place consumed by corruption. While the royal family accumulated wealth behind the high palace walls, the people barely survived amidst hunger, taxes, and fear.
But, far from everyone… The true heir was still alive. And for fifteen years, he learned only one thing. How to wait.
The palace awoke with the same luxury as always. Servants hurried through the halls. Guards changed shifts in front of the massive gates as the first rays of the sun pierced the castle windows. The princess descended the grand staircase with a calm smile. Unlike her father, she never waited for someone to open the doors for her. She did it always with her own hands. That morning was no exception. She pushed the massive wooden doors and collided head-on with someone.
—I am so sorry! —she hastened to say, stepping back.
As she looked up, she found a young man dressed in the extravagant uniform of the new royal jester. He was tall. Too elegant for that trade. His golden hair fell messily over pale eyes that seemed incapable of reflecting any emotion. For a moment, they remained looking at each other in silence.
The princess smiled, somewhat embarrassed by her clumsiness. He did not smile. He only watched her. He analyzed every detail of her face. The same eyes. The same smile. The blood of the family that had destroyed his own. Then he understood that fate had just placed the first piece of his revenge before him. And, for the first time in fifteen years, his true plan had just begun.