The king's council room was located on the northernmost point of the sixth floor of the castle. Throughout history the room had changed many locations and had been on different floors. Each king wanted a different room to house where many would agree the most important people in all of Iliad would be gathered. The castle, more so a labyrinth of twisting and winding marble corridors, was not difficult to traverse for Antares, just as he made his way a day before to the great hall he knew how to avoid as many people as possible to the council room. What many who stayed at castle Xerxes were quick to understand was that there were multiple ways to reach the same destination if one knew how to get there. And yet still he would run into the odd servant here or there shuffling along with their duties. All would stop, bowing and offer platitudes such as 'my king' or 'your grace'.

  The servants of castle Xerxes were all human, many of them inhabitants from the city of Akkad itself and some even further away. To serve the oldest house in all of Aurum was an honor that many fought over. One could go their whole life dreaming of the opportunity to serve such rulers who had the power to shape the lives of millions. And yet whatever their dream, the reality was far grander. So for Maria who had already had an eventful day yesterday meeting prince Antares, she believed she had achieved her life's calling. This would be a story that she would tell her grandchildren, that would pass down throughout her family. Of course she knew the chances of seeing the prince again would be near impossible, she had only recently come into serving the great house of Xerxes and being only fourteen years young, she would be resigned to kitchen duty for years, decades perhaps. But today she was once again tasked with cleaning a less traveled corridor.

  She had gotten lost many times on her way here and still she felt she had not seen a fourth of the entire castle. It was so much grander than she could have ever thought. And yet what occupied her thoughts was the prince, she so wished to see him again. She had heard many stories about him from the other servants who had seen and even spoken to him. But none of their comments about his appearance did him justice. He was utterly beautiful, the most beautiful person she had ever seen in her life. But most of all he was nice to her. She knew Stygians could be intimidating, she had met many, especially in Akkad. They were far more common than she had thought when she first moved here and in their presence she felt uncomfortable. But the members of the royal family were different, she couldn't explain it but the air around them just felt different, the pressure they exuded while walking was divine. Even still when she looked into the prince's eyes, it was something else. She felt a cool sensation of peace wash over her, it was as though just by looking at him she felt at ease. Remembering the day before she could not help but let out a little shriek and twirl.

  Oh how she wished to be a noble of some kind, to dance with the prince, she picked up the mop and imagined she was in the great hall, wearing the most beautiful of dresses. She would take the prince's hand and they would dance the night away in front of everyone. She glided effortlessly across the marble floors, pirouetting with the ease of a bird. She had seen one of the noble ladies do this during a festival a few days ago and only needed to see it once to mimic it. She knew she wasn't as graceful but still she tried her best.

  "You know, with a little more practice, you could become a dancer." A voice said from behind her.

  Maria screamed, turning her attention to the person. She had hoped it was not one of the head servants for she could not afford to get in trouble, she had only just got this position and this was an opportunity for her and her family. But when she saw who it was that spoke to her she wished it was one of the head servants, in fact she wished it was the first ruler of the Stygians, Strigga herself, anyone but him. It seemed the redder her face got the more he smiled, before long her legs that were so graceful had turned limp underneath and she collapsed to the ground lowering her head begging for forgiveness.

  "M-My pri- I-I mean my king!" Maria said, forcing the words out of her mouth.

  "Oh, I am no king yet Maria, but please let me not interrupt you. Would you like a partner?" Antares gestured to her with his hand extended.

  Many thoughts ran through Maria's head at that moment, the first being that Antares remembered her name. She was new here, even the head servants she served under did not remember her name for there were hundreds of them. No one knew her, she was one of many. Despite that, here twice in as many days, her name was spoken by the king to be, by her king. It filled her with a feeling she could not describe. Her chest became extremely warm and she struggled to breathe slightly. But she had no fear, she slowly raised her head and saw his hand still outstretched and a warm smile across his face. She hesitated at first, but she moved her hand closer to his own and held it.

  Warm, she thought, yet soft too. She struggled to her feet but it felt like his one hand could support her frail body. She stood up face still red, she could not meet his eyes and instead still looked at the floor. Before she knew it, he brought her in close, very close. Antares towered over her and she instinctively stood on her toes to reach closer to him. Antares in kind lowered himself towards her. She did not have time to react and they were already near face to face. At that moment Maria thought she was dreaming, no, she hoped she was. For if it was a dream she prayed this moment would last forever, and she would never wake up from it. Antares placed another hand on her hip and delicately intertwined his left hand with her right hand.

  "You see," he began ."The trick is to move in harmony with your partner. To move as one," he said as he began to move with her.

  At first he started slowly, allowing her to get used to his weight, and presence. Maria had no base of reference for dancing, all she knew was what she saw at taverns or what she heard about in stories from bards, but she could tell Antares was very good at it. He started to pick up pace and they glided across the corridor. Maria grew in confidence with each step she took and she could feel the background melt away. No longer were they in the corridors of castle Xerxes, but instead they were outside in a field underneath the night sky. They danced and twirled and moved as though they were one. To her in that moment, it felt as though their hearts beat in sync, everything began to make sense. He spun her around once more, brought her in and bent her over. His face, mere inches from her own. The night sky they danced under gave way to a brilliant rising sun, or perhaps it was a setting sun. Maria could not tell. She was enamored with the scene within Antares eyes; such a wondrous sun covered in vibrant purple and blue and orange skies. She was left transfixed. He brushed the blonde hair away from her to reveal a soft blue-eyed freckled face that had gone completely red. He could not help but smile, her lips quivered and it took everything within Maria to remind herself to keep breathing.

  "Well that is the idea behind it anyway. Forgive me it has been years since I have had any practice, I am a poor teacher." Antares said bowing.

  Had it not been for the mop holding her up she would have collapsed to the floor, all strength left her and she could not even muster a response. Antares turned to look out the window.

  "Ah would you look at the time, I am late. Take care Maria, and keep practicing," He waved while walking past her.

  Maria watched him gracefully walk away, she had thought yesterday the highlight of her life, seeing not only lady Alena but the prince himself, yet today, what she had just experienced surely this was the crowning moment of her life. To have had a dance with the king-to-be, with the prince Antares. Call it shock, or hubris she felt as though if she continued to work here she would have many more encounters with the prince. But as she watched his back as he rounded the corner she did not know why the thought crossed her mind, the prince gave no indication of it in any way, but to her when she looked at him even when he smiled, he looked incredibly sad. In that spot there she stood mop in hand, she would ask him if he was okay the next time she saw him. She made a vow to herself she would.

  As Antares approached the Council room he could already hear a large commotion brewing inside, his unpleasant demeanor was changed when he ran into Maria and with the thought of dealing with whatever was happening behind that door it soured his mood once more. He wondered why things could not be like they were with Maria, but he quickly removed the thought from his head. He was never meant to have an easy life, far from it. That option was taken from him the day he was born. The guards stationed at the door upon seeing the prince quickly saluted with enough force to rattle the door. That was enough to quiet the commotion occurring. They opened the door and all the men inside but three Stygians stood up. Antares took note.

  "The king enters!" shouted one of the guards.

  Antares waved his hand in acknowledgement and everyone returned to their seats. He gave a nod to the guards and they closed the door behind him.

  He surveyed the room, it was far too cramped with the amount of people inside. Another time he would have smiled for his memories of this room were plenty, times when he, Nykolas, Casspien and Typhon would sneak in here at night to pretend to deal with matters of the realm. The times he would accompany his father and sit in the back just watching and listening as they discussed matters he did not understand. They were pleasant memories defiled by the presence of men who he deemed unworthy.

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  "Brother!" Daimion barked, moving closer to him. "I Hope you ha-"

  Antares cut him off.

  "If you are not a member of this council, leave. Now." He stated matter of fact.

  There was no malice behind his words, no force either. He spoke in the most monotone manner he could, devoid of any emotion in his words. It was as though the decree was given by the very room itself, those who had not earned the right to be in this space let alone speak had no right to be here. He was not king yet, but still his words held every weight of one, Casspien smiled. There was no uproar or even any kind of dissent. All of them were prideful men, all of them had been born into great families and some even achieved great things. But in the presence of the would-be king chosen by the elders themselves and most of all a Lord of War, none of them were foolish enough to oppose his decree. One by one they exited the room, none able to meet the prince's gaze, instead electing to bow and shuffle their way out. Until only 6 remained.

  "You may sit," Antares said to the remaining men who stood.

  Grygor and Aias sat down in their respective seats. Whereas Casspien sat in the corner observing in silence.

  "How wonderful of you brother. Thank you, it is always a shouting match here." Daimion said, taking his seat at the end of the table closest to the door.

  Antares walked around the table towards the opposite end where the king would sit, he observed every member of the table without turning his head. He studied their reaction and their demeanor. So this is the den of vipers, he thought. He got to the chair reserved for the king and sat down uncomfortably. All other times he had sat here he was either a child or playing pretend, but this time, it was all real. He sat there as the next ruler of an entire kingdom, of a realm. He felt as though the chair would break underneath his weight.

  He looked up at the men sitting before him, Grygor and Aias he knew, the Lord Architect and Lord Scholar respectfully. They still looked not much older than him despite both being over four centuries old, to his knowledge. He offered them a kind smile and both returned with a small bow. They were Stygians who were part of his fathers council; he was glad they still remained. Even his father stated how their involvement was necessary for him to assume the crown over a century ago. To his left sat two men he had never seen before, they too were Stygian but his recollection of who they were was lost to him.

  He gazed at the orbs in front of each of the men. Each orb represented what the person sitting there was a lord of, a tradition that had been around for thousands of years. Only those who had the orb were allowed in the room, unless specifically asked to by the king. For such an old tradition to be desecrated so easily it angered him, but he did well to hide it. At least for now.

  He reached out for his orb in its socket in front of him. He grasped it in his hand, it was made out of obsidian, it was heavy, sturdy and glowed dimly, even in the morning light. In the center suspended in time there sat crystallized ice in the shape of a snake's eye. This orb was one of the many representations of power throughout Aurum. So many had died to hold this, millions across many ages. And here he held it calmly in his hand. He set it back down in its socket.

  "So this is a regular occurrence?" Antares asked.

  "Oh yes, you know how the nobles are. They are always complaining about this or that," Daimion said flippantly.

  "You speak of returning Iliad to the old ways and yet you allow one of our most sacred traditions to be desecrated so easily?" responded Antares.

  Daimion hesitated in his response and one of the men to his right responded for him.

  "Ah If I may your lordship-." the man sitting in front of the orb with a gold coin in it began.

  "You may not," Antares cut him off. "I was speaking to the Lord Regent."

  The man cleared his throat and sulked back into his chair, Antares turned his attention back to his brother waiting for an answer.

  "Um well you see brother, it is easier to have the nobles here voice their opinion. That way we can address matters far more quickly," Daimion struggled to finish his sentence.

  "Is that so?" Antares asked, looking at the rest of the table.

  All men nodded in agreement except for Grygor and Aias who could not meet their princes' eyes.

  Antares clasped his hands together, startling everyone except for Casspien.

  "Oh very well then moving on to other matters," he said with a beaming smile. "Daimion if you do not mind telling me about the state of Iliad, I would love to hear."

  Daimion was already uncomfortable, Antares demeanor had so suddenly changed. He was unsure how to react. Even as he saw his brother smile, there was no warmth in it. But what brought him even greater discomfort was that he was not used to sitting in the chair of the Lord Regent, he was far more accustomed to sitting in the chair his brother now annoyingly occupied. More so he felt this was more an interrogation than a meeting. He thought Antares would not have made it drinking so late last night, yet to his surprise, he arrived on time to the council meeting.

  He had hoped to use the moment before Antares arrival to sway more favor for himself and try his best to recoup some dignity from the night before. But that was quickly made futile with the presence of Casspien in the corner. He could do nothing but indulge in the incessant whining of the nobles. Never once getting the opportunity to defend his previous actions. In some ways he thought it better they so casually moved on from his embarrassment the day before.

  His thoughts quickly shifted to far more pressing matters. For instance, he did not understand how they were all so relaxed to carry on as usual. The mere presence of Casspien made the whole room suffocating. The pressure emanating from the man in the corner was potent. However what worried him even more was the sensation that he could not feel any pressure from Antares, if he was not directly looking at him, he would not have known he was there. He wondered when his brother started making him so uncomfortable, how many years had it been now, that look he gave him, the same one their father did.

  "Well you know, Iliad is massive, we are doing well. To go into everything right now would take the whole day," Daimion began. "There is far too much to do, with your coronation and all. I would not want to keep you."

  "Nonsense, I have been gone for five years. There is much I am sure I need to know, the coronation is still several days away please go ahead." Antares countered leaning in.

  "Um well," Daimion was stumbling over his words. Unsure of where to take the conversation, he looked to the other lords for assistance. None seemed to want to speak, so he thrusted the task on to his allies.

  "As I said before," he began. "There is much to discuss, but if you wish to know it is better to ask each lord individually, starting with the Lord of Gold..."

  Antares turned his attention to the Lord of Gold. He was a thin man, even for a Stygian. His black hair was braided low, he sported a very long face that was full of vigor and life. But his eyes betrayed his age. His sunset eyes held a tired look, the violet and orange colors that danced in his eyes lacked much vibrance. They were eyes that had seen much and at the same time nothing at all. Even still, like all Stygians, the man still carried an envious face, such beauty and structure to his features. Antares felt as though he knew him but could not quite recall from where, which was strange. His appearance was nothing out of the ordinary, he adorned many gold rings and earrings. When he smiled there was a shine to it because of the gold in it. He reminded the prince of what modern Stygians in Kish looked like, those who looked more human than Stygian in their dressing. The desire for material wealth was something that was a trademark for humanity that Antares was keenly aware of. The man was at least a few centuries older than Antares, yet he carried himself far younger than that. He was one of the three who did not stand when he entered the room. Antares was amused at what this man would say, he was interested in what they would all say. Before the man could speak he raised his hand again, interrupting him.

  "Speaking of the Lord of Gold, I do not seem to know your name, or the names of any of you. Forgive me," Antares rubbed the back of his head. "Please would you be so kind as to tell me your names?"

  They all nodded in unison, starting with the Lord of Gold, he spoke first stating his name to be Omiros Xerxes. It was then that Antares remembered who he was. They were cousins, specifically Omiros was a distant relative of the royal family, still it made him royalty to some degree. Unlike humans, every Stygian bore the same last name and were all related. House Xerxes was the largest house in all of Aurum, millions called its hallowed halls their ancestral home. And these three were no exception. Faint memories of his youth flooded his mind of Omiros, growing up Antares was exposed to many members of his large family. It was part of his education to understand just where it is he came from and just how many people called him kin. He had always been good at recalling names of those he knew, yet these two escaped him.

  Omiros spoke, he talked for some time about the state of Iliad and gold and the various ways it was growing despite what others might believe. Stygian businesses throughout the realm were thriving and for the first time in centuries there was growth within Stygian circles in various cities across the realm. As he mouthed off he threw in platitudes for Daimion's leadership throughout these last five years; how without his guidance and leadership Iliad could not have grown as much as it had so quickly. Calling upon his upbringing in diplomacy as a cornerstone for facilitating such a wide growth amongst their people.

  In that moment Antares could not help but recall his teachings on what the Lord of Gold was responsible for. In truth many could argue outside of the king, the Lord of Gold was the most important member of the council, they effectively controlled the flow of war within the realms borders and sometimes outside. For many could have an abundance of reasons to pick up a blade, but no reason grander than that of gold. It was something Antares was acutely aware of and had to learn growing up. A lesson he never forgot.

  As Omiros finished his speech, his tepid demeanor had completely changed to one of confidence, he was proud of himself and of his actions. "So why has General Guinevere not received any aid over the last year?" Antares yawned. Sleep still called to him.

  "Excuse me?" Omiros pulled on his collar reflexively.