— Get out.
King Astarion's voice rang out like a sentence.
One by one, the council members stood up. No one dared to protest. The doors to the room closed slowly, leaving behind a thick, almost oppressive silence.
Only two men remained.
A king.
And his eldest son.
Astarion remained motionless for a few seconds, his hands resting on the council table. Then he slowly stood up and turned to Alastor.
— Look at me.
Alastor looked up. His face was closed, his features frozen, but something was broken in his eyes.
— Do you know what makes me the most angry? the king asked in a low, dangerously calm voice.
Alastor didn't answer.
—It's not a scandal. Nor the political consequences.
Astarion approached him, each step echoing in the empty room.
— I must have learned all this... from your brother.
A silence.
"Your younger brother," he continued, "the one you never stopped despising, came here to defend the kingdom while you…
He paused, gritting his teeth.
— While you were playing with fire.
The king turned away abruptly, taking a few steps as if to contain his anger.
"I spent years preparing you for the crown.
Years of turning a blind eye to your excesses.
Years of convincing myself that you would learn.
He turned around, his gaze hard.
—But today... you forced me to doubt.
Alastor took a deep breath. His fists clenched, but he remained silent.
— Do you know what it means to be king? Astarion replied.
— It's not taking.
—It is not to be desired.
—It's not satisfying one's whims.
His voice rose, heavy with disappointment.
—To be king is to protect this kingdom even against oneself.
He moved closer, so close that their eyes met.
—And you… you risked everything. All.
The king paused, longer. Heavier.
"I'm wondering, Alastor...
His voice barely shook.
—If I didn't make a mistake in naming you heir.
These words fell like a blade.
Alastor finally looked down.
Astarion stepped back, visibly affected by what he had just said.
— You are not punished. Not yet.
— But don't get me wrong. I'm thinking.
He turned on his heel.
— Think about your future.
—Think about your name.
—And above all… think about what you are willing to sacrifice for this crown.
Then, without looking back:
— You can dispose of it.
Alastor stood still for a few seconds, alone in the middle of the council room.
Then he bowed slightly.
— Yes… Father.
He went out.
The heavy doors closed behind him, leaving King Astarion alone, staring at the throne.
And for the first time in a long time...
the crown seemed heavier than ever.