Silence encompassed the room following Rhode's whisper. The words seemed to dim the already shadowed archive to a chilling degree.

The siren herself dropped her gaze to the journal clutched in her arms, as if it could answer the questions spinning through all of them. Did Alekos kill his brother?

Did the current king assassinate Akaikos the day after a new heir was born?

Fates. If they were right, Alekos was the villain in Rhode's story. And the horrible thing was, Kain could imagine it. Where Rhode held all the attributes of a leader, she lacked the shadowed edges that would be required for Asha to have done the things she did. While that could be explained through her memory loss, the heart of the matter was Alekos did not lack those traits.

He displayed it in the expensive furnishings. In the guest tables that cost the same price as a food bank. The rooms full of art that could have aided thousands. It was in the packed slums, and in the city infamous for rebels.

It was in the foreign noble confident that flinging the king's name around could grant him the authority necessary for senseless execution.

The seed of possibility was there. Alekos liked fine things. He liked power, and he liked waving it in the faces of others. Someone of honest make would have released them the moment it became possible. With Kain's new potential status, all Alekos had to do was tell his advisors that due to the political strife in Cieon, they would be revisiting the issue at a later time. He could have made it a matter between nations as the accusation of a prince should have been.

Instead, he kept them contained. He flaunted knowledge and reminded them just how helpless they were before him. On how much they had to lose out on if the trial did not go the way they wanted.

A chill crept down Kain's spine. They had all been confident that once the truthsayer arrived, they would be allowed to leave. But, was that really the case? Or would Alekos find another excuse to confine them for political clout? How wonderful it would look if he was the one to hand the "lost" prince into Cieon's hands. They would owe him a favor. And in the impossible case that Kain became king as Alekos thought he would, Eol's crown would have a favor with Kain himself.

Suddenly, he wondered if the trial would truly be just.

That favor would weigh so much more if Alekos pardoned Kain of proved murder.

"You don't know that your son died."

Callias' words cut the tension, before dropping a new, heavier thought in their minds. Would Alekos have his newborn nephew killed? Was he that corrupt? It was more believable than Rhode killing her son, but still hard to digest.

"That's--" Rhode began.

"The casket was closed," Callias continued, voice soft and impossibly blank. "Melitta found the funeral records. She was uncertain about whether to show them to you, and figured she'd approach it after we knew more. She didn't want to bring you needless pain."

"I'm fine."

No one believed her.

"The casket was closed," he repeated. "The official reason was that it was for the sake of those present. Viewing the body of an infant could be shocking. Trumatic."

"What makes you think that's a lie?" Kain prompted after the man fell to silence.

Callias shut the book in his hands, his eyes never budging from the closed volume. "It's not tradition. Not in Reotak, and not here. There, priests are always allowed to bless the body before burial. They request a swift reincarnation from the gods' given the child's short rebirth. I've seen it. Here, in Eol, it's before cremation. The evidence is in the records, Isidor and I checked. There is no reason for this time to have been any different."

Unless there wasn't a body to bless.

Rhode looked like she might faint.

The question of what prompted Callias to search the birth and funeral records died on Kain's lips. Their conversation from earlier in the week flicked through his mind, his own words lingering, and driving deep into his thoughts. 'If he's a member of the distant bloodline, a nephew or the like, it would be recorded even if his family doesn't reside in Sol.'

"Did you find an Ales?" Kain managed to ask. Rhode took a sharp breath.

Callias was silent for several minutes. Before, slowly, he shook his head.

"Not one that isn't already dead. The last in the records was Alekos' father."

Kain's mind spun. But before he could say anything else, the journal escaped Rhode's grasp. It fell to the floor with an audible, numbing thud.

"You...are looking for an Ales?"

Kain's eyes flicked to her. The siren was watching them with an indescribable look. Pain mixed with apprehension, worry, and an impossible hope.

"You know the name?" he asked.

She stared, then closed her eyes she drew in a slow, heavy breath. Her features fell into the practiced blankness of nobility. "Dalphie mentioned it to me."

It was impossible. Coincidences like this didn't happen.

"She said...that's the name...the name that Akaikos and I picked. He...he loved his father. So, we picked it."

How likely was it that their guesses were the truth?

The situation was impossibly tangled. A mercenary with the name of a king, and likely ties to Reotakian nobility. Someone with the hubris to steal a siren from Inna's Cove. Contracted Reotakian assassins. A crowned king suspected of fratricide and infanticide. A queen mother lending them every power they needed to clear the convicted killer's name. A trial.

Even Mara and Iliana.

It was impossible, wasn't it? For fate to continue to toss such coincidences their way?

Isodor's voice circled his mind. 'Three gods walked in.'

What game was being played? What were they missing?

"I think he might be alive, Rhode."

Callias' words seemed to break something in her. Rhode dropped her weight against the shelf behind her, her trembling arms wrapping around her middle as if it could keep her from falling apart. Her eyes stayed closed, her face blank, but her body betrayed everything.

The truth of their guess would either damn her, or save her.

"Before we leave," Kain began, a quiet promise infecting his voice. He didn't care how impossible it would be--just that they managed it. "We'll figure this out, Rhode. Whatever it takes."

Even if he had to confront Alekos himself.

┈♔◦𓇣◦☽◦❤◦☾◦𓇣◦♔┈

Preparing to attend a banquet held by a suspected usurper was as desirable as one might have imagined it to be.

The day after their discovery started with a shared breakfast in Kain's room, one that was interrupted by a polite knock on the door, and a servant informing Melitta that she was needed for some last minute sizing on her dresses. Before five minutes had passed, the knock came two more times. Once for Callias, then again for Kain. In the end, he spent the majority of the morning being poked and prodded, before a stylist came in, took one look at his hair, and grimaced. Apparently living on a merchant ship and trimming his locks with a knife had left them "atrocious" and "a crime worthy of things I daren't say, Milord." Kain didn't get it, but reluctantly endured the torture that followed.

By the time he was freed, the sun had already reached midday. While he would have loved to head directly to the archive, the late hour meant he had to change and head directly to a lunch invitation instead. The only bright side to it was that Melitta had also been invited, so he wasn't forced to listen to the endless bragging of countless nobles on his own.

Afterwards, Melitta was able to escape the hands of the fussing servants with an apologetic smile and an excuse of visiting Umae's temple. Kain had no such excuse, which was why when he ran into a knight on his way to the library, he ended up reluctantly accepting an invitation to the training grounds.

"I've h-heard about your sk-skill in duels, Your Highness," the knight stammered. "And, you--you don't have to, but if you would w-watch our training, it w-would mean everything and--!"

"I'll go," Kain cut in reassuringly. "It'd be my pleasure."

The knight's face lit in a brilliant smile, and that was that. Kain spent his entire afternoon attending a training session for the royal guard.

Kain wasn't stupid. The invitation had to have come from higher up. Afterall, showing military tactics to a foreigner toed a dangerous line. It made the offer unwise to accept--if he didn't show up after permission had been granted by someone higher than the knight, then the question of what he was doing would be brought up.

By the time he'd finished it was time for dinner with Alekos. As expected, the king spent the entire event discussing his military. First, the skill of his guard which Kain just must have been impressed by--he wasn't--then, how impressive it was that despite their years of peace, even the nobility's skill stayed sharp. As he talked, he subtly cut down the men who had lost their training spars to Kain, implying that they just weren't that applied, and how he needed to face a real challenge to know how great Alekos' soldiers were. Of course, it wasn't the time or the place for that sort of thing, the king announced. It wouldn't do to have Kain injured right before the banquet. They would have to wait.

Kain couldn't help but wonder why--if he was expected to be injured--directly before his trial would be any better.

In the end, the morning of the first day of celebration arrived without Kain managing to take another step into the archive. Only Isidor and Rhode had managed to press further into the archive, and when he met with them for breakfast, they reluctantly admitted a lack of further information. Their luck in the records had run out.

After, Melitta and Kain sat down with Lyre to run over the list of nobility they would be seated near. The servant only knew rumors about each of them, but it was enough to give them a working model of names, and what could or couldn't be discussed without starting a fight. By the time they'd finished, it was time to separate and prepare for the banquet.

Thankfully, due to the hours upon hours of being poked and prodded the week before, preparing himself for the celebration only took Kain the better part of the afternoon. Lyre, seeming to sense Kain's unease, waited to assist him until he had donned the black, silver, and midnight blue three-piece suit Alekos' had provided.

"After His Majesty is satisfied with the food, he'll announce the beginning of the second half of the knight," Lyre explained.

Kain accepted the silver cufflinks the manservant offered him, a frown working onto his lips. In all of Artemios' explanations of events such as these, there wasn't much to the first few days of celebration.

"The second half?" Kain questioned after a moment.

Lyre nodded. "Yes. The entertainment portion. A different sort is provided each night leading up to the ball. Typically they're chosen based on the reason for the celebration."

"And this celebration is for Duke Levantis," Kain observed.

What sort of entertainment would that call for? Kyril wasn't a pleasant person, and Kain found it difficult to imagine anything selected with him in mind would be any less distressing.

Seeming to read Kain's concern, Lyre offered a reassuring smile. "His Majesty has hired a sword dancer for tonight. It's in honor of His Grace's military accomplishments.

Did Kyril even have any of those? Or had the choice been based on his duchy's history, rather than the man himself? Kain couldn't imagine Kyril lifting a blade in his own defense, let alone his country's.

Whatever the meaning behind it, Kain couldn't help the faint thrill of curiosity that filled him at the thought of a sword-dancer. Given his history, he had attended a precious few shows before--and none of them featuring this particular art. How much more beautiful could a blade become when placed in the hands of a performer?

Once he had finished readying himself, Kain stepped into the hall. His heart near-leapt from his chest as he crossed over to Melitta's room. Somehow, during all his preparations he'd managed to ignore the fact that, soon, he would walk before hundreds with Melitta on his arm. But now, it seized his body in a vice.

Every set of eyes would assume them together. While they ate, those around them would likely pry at the faux relationship. Prior to their preparations with Lyre--as they couldn't very well discuss the fake nature of their partnership in front of the servant--they had guessed each question, and prepared an answer that they felt comfortable with. Their story was solid. As long as Kain didn't freeze, there wasn't a soul that would manage to spot the lies amongst their truths. And yet, fear chilled his body, stifling the odd warmth that'd settled in his chest.

When they arrived, connecting her name to his had felt harmless.

Now, though, the public looked at Kain as a prince. Which meant, in their eyes, Melitta was a potential queen.

How many queens had been killed in the shadow of Cieon's crown? How many had been run through, or sipped the sweet death of a Reotakian poison? Kain shuddered, his curled fingers pausing just above the frame of her door. Was this really the right thing to do? Melitta might have said it was fine, but did she really understand?

He of all people knew best how this could end.

After all, it was the whole reason Kain was who he was. If Reotak had no issues poisoning the newborn prince of a high priestess, what, if anything, would hold them back from pointing their blades at a no-name mermaid?

Before he could steady his fear long enough to work up the courage to knock, the door swung open before him. Rhode stilled on the other side. Her swollen eyes widened as they flicked over him. Kain froze. Was she crying?

"Rho--"

She shoved her way past him, cutting off his question. Kain stumbled to the side, and put up a hand to stop her, before another voice stilled his reach.

"Let her go. She would likely hate anyone who bothered her right now."

Kain spun to face the speaker, surprise holding his tongue. Standing in the center of the room, her brilliant, forested green eyes dark with sorrow, was the last person he'd expected to see.

"Dalphie?"