And for the first time since arriving in this world, he allowed himself to feel something.
Not duty.
Not fear.
But the ache of being human.
Yet alas, he was no longer one.
He was now a warlock.
'Now what will the king want from me?' Kaelith sighed, asking himself.
'I don't even know where he is.'
He turned to one of the guards standing outside his sister's chamber.
"You," he said, trying to sound casual. "Take me to the king."
The guard blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "To the... throne hall, My Lord?"
Kaelith nodded quickly. "Ah. Yes. Obviously."
The guard hesitated for a moment too long—just enough to make Kaelith uneasy.
Then, with a quick bow, the guard replied, "At once, My Lord," and turned to lead the way.
Kaelith followed, keeping his expression calm, even though inside, he could feel the man's suspicion like a blade brushing skin.
'Great… he almost noticed. I need to be more careful.'
He kept his eyes forward, subtly observing every corridor, every rune-marked wall and flickering torch they passed, trying to memorize the layout.
When they reached the towering obsidian doors of the royal court, the guard stepped aside and opened them without a word.
Kaelith entered.
He didn't wait to be announced, why should he?
The heavy doors groaned open, drawing the attention of every noble, minister, and knight gathered inside the vast throne room. Conversations died. Gazes turned.
Kaelith walked forward, head high, steps steady despite the nervous churn inside his chest.
He didn't slow and he didn't kneel.
At the far end of the room, seated atop a dais of dark stone and flame, sat the King of Varies, not his father, but the father of the former Kaelith, whose name he now wore like borrowed armor.
The man looked as if he'd been carved from shadow and cold iron. His white eyes, dulled by time and authority, didn't even rise to meet his son.
Instead, the king's voice cut through the silence like a knife.
"You're alive," he said. "Disappointing… for someone's plan."
Kaelith froze mid-step, blinking once.
'Seriously? That's his welcome back?' he thought.
Still, he answered smoothly, keeping his tone even. ""Funny. I could say the same about a few people in this room."
The king finally looked up, studying him closely.
"And you are late."
"I wasn't aware you missed me so dearly, Father," Kaelith replied, allowing a hint of sarcasm into his voice.
A gasp rippled through the court.
The King of Varies leaned back in his throne, white eyes narrowing. "You speak differently today," he said quietly. "Sharper. Less obedient."
Kaelith smiled faintly, defiant but calm. "Or maybe you're only now noticing."
The room stilled. Even the torches flickered lower, as if holding their breath.
The king tilted his head, watching him in silence.
His gaze lingered, digging deeper than a father's would.
It was as if he were looking at a pawn trying to slip from his grasp— and that was what irritated him the most.
"The hall is dismissed, leave the both of us alone immediately." He commanded.
And the nobles and the guards immediately left, leaving room for both the father and son.
"Was it the river?" King Malrec asked, his voice low and cruel, like a knife sliding through a person's neck.
"How did it feel, drowning in the water after poisoning your lover… and yourself?"
Kaelith's fingers twitched.
'What was this man talking about?'
"Two days before your wedding," the king continued, "you were nearly dead. Poisoned with venom hidden in your wine and food. Dragged into the lake. Left to Rot."
He stood up slowly, the chains on his robes clinking softly behind him like snakes.
"And yet you breathe," he said coldly. "You ruin everything for those who seek peace. You almost destroyed my plans."
Kaelith's heart thundered as he stared at the man who called himself his father—no not his but the former Kaelith"s
'What the fuck is this bastard saying? Did the former Kaelith… really do all that?'
These questions troubled him, he swallowed hard, but forced himself to hold the king's gaze.
"I didn't ruin anything," Kaelith hissed, voice tight with restrained rage. "I married him. Isn't that what you wanted?"
King Malrec's face darkened, smoke rising behind his pale eyes like coals beneath ice.
"You married him, yes," he said slowly. "But you forget your role."
He stepped forward, eyes cold.
"Would you prefer I marry off your sister instead?" he asked quietly. "She's young. The Thalorian court loves youth."
Kaelith's blood boiled.
His jaw tightened. His fists clenched.
"Leave Lysenia out of this," he snapped. "How can you be so heartless to your own children? Using us like objects."
His voice was full of anger.
Kael couldn't believe this was how a father treated his children.
He wasn't raised in a palace nor in this world, but even he knew this was wrong.
His chest ached—not just for Lysenia, but for the man whose life he now lived. A man so trapped, he'd nearly chosen death.
But at the same time, suspicion gnawed at him.
Why would the former Kaelith poison himself? Something didn't add up.
Something was off, he could feel it.
There was more to this than what the king was saying, and Kaelith knew it.
Now Kael was here… alive in his place.
And he would not let this monster hurt her.
"I want you to control him," the King snapped, cutting across Kaelith's words like they were an annoying buzz.
Kaelith froze, his rage momentarily derailed.
Just like that.
The bastard had dismissed everything he said about Lysenia, about the poison, about the manipulation.
'What the hell is he even talking about now? Control who? And how is that suddenly more important than threatening your own son and daughter?'
Kaelith clenched his fists tightly.
"Who are you talking about, Father?"
The word father left a sour taste on his tongue, filthy and foreign, like a name meant for someone else entirely.
His voice echoed sharper than he intended. He didn't care.
The King slowly turned to him, shadows moving around his robes like they were alive.
He didn't speak right away, he just stared into Kaelith's eyes.
'Did he notice something? Maybe I should've held back… No. Screw that. This isn't my father,' Kaelith thought.
The King's pale eyes narrowed, studying Kaelith, not as a son, but as a soldier who just broke rank.
"You're talking differently," he said quietly.
"You look the same, but something about you has changed."
Kaelith felt a spike of panic crawl up his spine, but forced himself to smirk.
"Guess near-death changes people."
'Nice save,' he told himself. 'Play it cool. Don't let him dig deeper.'
The King didn't reply right away. The silence between them felt long and sharp.
Then he stepped forward, again lazily this time.
"Your husband," he said at last, voice dripping with scorn.
"Have you forgotten you are married, Prince Kaelith?"
Kaelith froze for a moment.
'Of course. He's talking about that fish man.'
"I haven't," Kaelith replied tightly.
"Good," the King said. "Then charm him. Seduce him if you must. Make him obey. We don't need Thaloris as a partner—we need it to kneel. Under our rule."
Kaelith scoffed, frustration rising in his chest.
"I can't. He doesn't even see me as a real husband. I don't love him. And frankly, I'd rather drown than flirt with that cold-blooded fish man."
The King's expression didn't change. His voice remained calm, but there was steel in it.
"It doesn't matter if he's a fish or a monster. It doesn't matter if you love him. It doesn't even matter if he loves you."
He stepped forward slowly, now standing face to face with Kaelith.
"What matters… is that you make him believe you care."
Kaelith wanted nothing more than to punch this man in the face—or better yet, end him right there.
But he couldn't.
Doing that would only get him killed.
"You want me to lie to him?" Kaelith asked, his jaw tight.
The King didn't hesitate. He stepped closer and raised Kaelith's chin with two fingers, forcing their eyes to meet.
"I do," he said coldly.
Kaelith's voice cracked, full of frustration. "He's not stupid. He'll see right through me."
The King's eyes narrowed into thin, icy slits. "Then make him believe it anyway."
He let go of Kaelith's chin and turned away, walking toward the far wall, where red runes glowed faintly, pulsing like veins in stone.
Kaelith's eyes stayed locked on the man's back, anger burning in his chest. His fists trembled at his sides.
'You monster… You don't care about peace. You only care about power.'
"You'll attend the ball," the King said sharply, not turning around. "And tonight… you'll share your first night with your husband."
Kaelith's breath caught in his throat.
'What?'
Before he could speak, the King cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"You're dismissed. There's nothing left for you to say."
Silence.
Kaelith stood there, frozen, rage surging through every inch of him.
His hands curled into fists so tight, his nails dug into his palms.
He turned and walked away, shoulders stiff, footsteps echoing through the cold marble floor.
'I hate you,' he thought with every step. 'I swear… if I ever get the chance, if the gods give me even one moment… I'll kill you.'