The Nameless Heir

Inside the king's palace, the air felt wrong for a place built by men. Warm. Soft. Like it was trying to welcome him in. Light slid over the stone in steady waves, catching on the carvings, making them seem alive when he looked too long.

Music lingered in the halls. Slow. Careful. The kind that didn't just fill the air but seemed to move with it. For a second, he almost let it carry him. Almost.

Rows of men lined one side. Women the other. They sang as he passed, the sound so tangled he couldn't tell where one voice ended and another began. He didn't know the words. Didn't need to. The sound stayed with him.

It was beautiful. That was the problem. Beauty like this didn't happen by accident. It was made. Polished. Put in place to make you stop thinking about what lay underneath.

He kept his pace steady. Eyes forward. Let the sound chase him if it wanted.

He kept his steps loose, a half-pace behind the king and queen as they spoke with Liz. The music was too thick to catch their words, but they moved through the conversation without pause. No strain. No repeats.

He let his gaze wander while they talked—walls, ceiling, the way the light bent in certain places. Listening without listening. Watching without looking like he was.

Liz turned and walked toward him, the kind of smile that could light the whole hall. "You think we can stay here for a day? They're throwing a party for us." She had to lean in for him to hear. The music didn't let much through.

He smiled back, but it wasn't all warmth. "Yes. As you wish, Princess Liz," he said, bowing just enough to play along. His eyes stayed on hers a moment longer, reading the excitement… and the part she didn't say.

The music stopped. The king stepped toward him and offered his hand. His face said one thing, the gesture another. Kael took it anyway.

"I'm King Leo," the man muttered.

"I'm Kael, Lord of Darkness."

Leo's grip tightened. Not a greeting—more like a test.

"I guess you're not a fan of your future son-in-law," he said through his teeth, low enough for only the king to hear.

Leo's eyes met his. Steady. "Keep dreaming, kid." His grip pressed back, harder.

The air between them thickened, heat and weight pressing into the silence. Liz stepped in quick, smile flashing too fast to be real. He caught it—meant for him, not them. A warning to ease off before it went too far.

"Liz, dear, let us talk," the king said without looking at her, then turned to Kael. "Please take him to the guest room."

While walking, a man bumped into him. Kael didn't turn. Not worth the energy.

"Watch out," the man shouted when he saw Kael keep moving.

He came in fast, hand reaching out. A shadow snapped across the space and slapped it away.

Kael turned then, eyes glowing. "What do you think you're doing?" His voice came low and heavy, as if the answer didn't matter.

The man froze, then walked off without a word.

"Coward," Kael muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Once he reached his room, he stripped off the armor and dropped onto the bed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually laid on one. Food, sleep—he didn't need either anymore. Still, sometimes he found himself missing them.

He closed his eyes for a moment. A knock came.

When he opened the door, a pair of golden-white clothes waited on the floor. No one holding them. No footsteps walking away.

"Oh, I feel welcome already," he said, loud enough for anyone to hear. Nothing. Not a sound.

He put on the royal attire left for him. The mirror showed someone he remembered from long ago—back when he first went to the academy. Too polished. Too bright. Too "hey, look at me."

He pulled it off and reached for what felt right. The shadows answered, weaving over him in layered folds, dark and heavy, trimmed in faint silver that caught the light without shouting for it. Not their kind of royalty—his kind. The God of the Underworld.

He held the stare for a moment, a faint pull at the corner of his mouth. This felt right.

The place shook with music. A knock came at his door—someone ready to take him to the party. He followed. The man gave him a look for not wearing the proper attire but didn't say anything.

Kael headed down the stairs. Halfway down, he slid his hair back like he was on a runway. Why not? If they were going to stare, might as well give them something to stare at.

A few people stared like he'd just said something insane. In the corner of his eye, Liz was biting her lip, trying not to laugh.

He walked up to her. "Nice suit," she snarked.

"Yes. Didn't want to draw attention to myself."

Liz blinked at him, slow, then tilted her head. "You realize that's exactly what you just did, right?"

It clicked a second later. He let out a short laugh. "I don't think much, unless fighting is involved."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him in close. "I know."

"So, how they treating you?" she asked.

He glanced around. Eyes. Always there. "Real welcomed," he said. "Aren't I the most wanted man in Olympus?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

"Don't you think we should leave?"

She grinned. "You scared?"

"Very," he said, letting the sarcasm hang. The corner of his mouth twitched. She saw it. Her smile widened like she'd caught him breaking character, even if only for a second.

People stared as they kept talking. The man from earlier walked toward them, ignoring Kael, and introduced himself to Liz. She didn't even look at him—just grabbed Kael and pulled him in a different direction.

"Damn…" Kael glanced at the guy, then at Liz. "Looks like I've got competition."

She smacked his arm without looking at him. "Shut up."

Soon after, everyone gathered on the floor to dance. He and Liz joined in, but the glares never left him—especially the king's.

Leo's eyes stayed locked on him the whole time. Not curious. Not cautious. Just waiting. Kael didn't break it. Let him stare. If the king wanted a fight, he could have it—just not here.

Liz glanced between them once. Twice. Her smile thinned. She didn't speak, but her grip on his arm tightened.

The ceremony ended, and the king rose, glass in hand.

Then he called a name. "Sole."

It was the man who'd bumped into Kael earlier. The king announced he would be the next king after him.

The next words landed harder—he would also be Liz's fiancé's future husband.

Kael's eyes narrowed. Not out of surprise, but to keep the shift in his face from showing. He glanced at the king. Leo wasn't looking at the crowd. He was looking straight at him.

Sole smiled and waved at the room. Even at Liz. She stood right beside Kael, frozen, her face stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief.

Kael raised his hand. "Ah, that's not possible." He pointed at himself. "She already has a husband." His look made it clear he wasn't joking—just confused why they didn't know.

Sole snapped. "What?"

"Yeah," Kael said, flat.

"Enough," her father's voice cut in, sharp and cold.

"Fine. I'll prove it," Kael muttered.

He looked at Liz and smiled. From the shadows, he brought Alice into his arms, winked at her once, then pointed toward the king and queen before placing her down. "This is our daughter."

Alice tilted her head, one foot rubbing against the other. "Papa…" The word came soft, almost syrupy. "Papa, where is this place?"

He pulled her close. "That's your grandma and grandpa."

She kept up the act, slipping from his arms. Alice padded forward, head dipping in a bow so small it almost wasn't one, her hands pressed together at her chest. "Hello."

Liz's lips twitched. She glanced at Kael—quick, sharp—and almost smiled.

"How—that's impossible!" Sole's voice cracked through the air, heat rolling off him in waves that made the space feel tighter.

"I mean, it's not that hard," Kael said, scooping Alice up and covering her ears like he was shielding her from some great secret. "You see, when a man loves a girl very much, they tend to—"

Liz smacked him on the head before he could finish. Alice burst into giggles, leaning into his arm.

"Your mother is super violent," Kael muttered, almost fondly.

The heat spiked sharp, dry in the air. Sole's jaw flexed. "How dare you talk about my beloved." His voice came low, tight. The king's hand clamped on his arm, keeping him in place.

"Well, trust me," Kael said, tone steady but eyes locked on Sole. "Liz and I have known each other longer than anyone here." His gaze slid to the king and queen. "Even longer than her mother and father."

Their faces shifted, some unspoken recognition flashing between them.

His voice dropped lower. "If anyone tried to take her from me, they'd have to kill me first… and it's happened before."

Silence stretched. Liz's smile slipped away. Her fingers curled at her side, nails pressing into her palm. She didn't meet his eyes, but the faint rise in her shoulders told him she'd caught every word.

"Fine, I challenge you!" Sole shouted, heat spiking off him in waves.

Kael's head tipped back as laughter tore out of him. "Okay—sorry, but do you even know why I'm the most wanted man in Olympus?"

"Because you disobeyed Zeus's orders," the king muttered.

Kael laughed harder, leaning forward like the sound was too heavy to stand upright with. "That's all you've heard?"

Eyes turned toward them. The music had died somewhere in the background. Alice joined in, trying to copy his laugh, her smaller version almost more unhinged.

The truth sat in his chest, steady and dark—the gods would never admit it was because he'd beaten one of them to death.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Father. Don't let them fight." Liz's voice came quick.

"It's fine. I accept your challenge," Kael said before she could say anything, his tone flat enough to cut through the room.

"If I win, you leave Liz here and never come back," Sole shot back, leaning forward like he wanted the fight to start right there.

"Fine," Kael said without a blink. Then he turned to Alice. "Wanna see me fight that cuckoo head, or go back to Mother?"

"Fight the coco head!" she said, bouncing on her toes.

"As you wish, princess." He scooped her up, pressed a kiss onto her cheeks and forehead, then passed her to Liz. She smiled, but the tightness in her eyes hadn't eased.

The crowd edged back, whispers threading between them. The king and queen didn't blink. His jaw set, and his fingers tapped once on the arm of his chair—small, steady, like he already knew how this would play out.