Chapter 60 - Decrement The Joker disappeared in a swirl of shadows and ughter, leaving only silend devastation in his wake. Above us, cracks splintered across the ceiling where Rudbeckia had been thrown moments earlier. With an ominous groan, rge pieces of debris began to rain down from above. The noise was deafening as ks of stone and wood crashed onto the floor around Rudbeckia’s motionless body. But despite everything—the chaos aru—the roof itself remained intact. Light streamed through the fractures above like golden threads pierg through darkness. Rudbeckia y unscious beh a pile of shattered debris at the far end of the hall, her celestial gown dulled by dust and rubble. As silence recimed its dominiohe room once more, footsteps echoed softly against stohe measured steps of someone approag me. A faint smile tugged at my lips despite myself—a weak but genuiion born from sheer relief and familiarity—as he crouched down before me. Cillian’s blurred face came into view: impassive yet intense, his sharp features illuminated by fractured light streaming through cracks in the ceiling above us. His eyes flickered briefly over my tear-streaked face before he reached out gently to brush away strands of my dark hair that g stubbornly just timeters above my eyes. A smirk tugged at Cillian’s lips, mirr my own pained smile with one of his own ced with mischief and something deeper beh it. "So," he chimed softly, his voice low and steady but carrying an edge of sardonic amusement. "Won’t you tell your sweet hubby how well my mother’s treated you?" His smirk lingered even as my vision blurred further and darkness began to creep into my periphery. My smile never wavered—not even as my body gave out entirely and I fell unscious once again.-Helia Pace; Decrement Chamber; 4 PM- The room was quite dark, only the suing light from the window that stood above a raised ptform with fences was the only pce from where the light peeped in. The warm, golden rays cast long shadows across the ornate floor, creating an atmosphere of both grandeur and mystery. The room had high shelves on the sides, lined with tless leather-bound tomes and a scrolls. Their spines glinted faintly in the dim light, hinting at the wealth of knowledge as they held within. *Chatter* *Chatter* *Chatter* A andihe ter of the room excimed, his voice low but sharp, "Why would His Majesty summon us to this chamber? It's hardly fitting for such a gathering." He gestured vaguely toward the shadowy ers of the room, his jeweled rings catg what little light there was. Another noble added from nearby, his toinged with unease, "Ihe Decrement Chamber is rarely used for anything but private decrations or...punishments." He gnervously toward the raised ptform at the far end of the room. Two advisors stood near one of the t bookshelves, their heads bowed close together as they whispered. "This is highly irregur," otered to the other, his eyes darting toward the door. "The King has never called a meeting here before. Not in all my years of service." The other advisor nodded grimly. "It’s uling. This chamber carries too much weight—too much history. Whatever this is about, it ot be trivial." By the window, where faint rays of light spilled into the gloom, a group of nobles huddled together in hushed versation. "Do you think this could be about the princess?" one noblewoman asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Perhaps an annou about her e?" "Es are decred in the Grand Hall," another noblewoman replied curtly, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click. "Not here. This is...different." A younger nobleman leaned closer to them and whispered spiratorially, "I’ve heard whispers about u at the borders. Could it be war? Or..." He hesitated before l his voice further. "...a coup?" At the back of the room, two maids whispered among themselves as they adjusted a set of chairs. "Why would they gather everyone here?" one asked nervously, her hands trembling as she worked. "This pce gives me chills." "Shh," the other maid replied quickly, gng around to ensure no one overheard them. "It’s not our pce to question His Majesty’s decisions. But...I’ve never seen anything like this before." he entrance, an older nobleman with a e leaoward his panion and muttered under his breath, "Mark my words—this won’t end well for any of us. Sudden summons like this always mean trouble." His panion frowned deeply and replied in a hushed tone, "Perhaps it’s merely a matter of state security? A warning about something beyond our borders?" The older nobleman scoffed quietly. "If it were that simple, we wouldn’t be standing in this dimly lit tomb of a room." The tension in the chamber grew thicker with every passing moment as more nobles and advisors exged uneasy gnces and murmured specutions among themselves. "Why is it so dark in here?" another noblewoman whispered sharply to her husband as she clutched his arm tightly. "Surely they could have lit more dles ht in nterns." "It’s deliberate," her husband replied grimly. "The King wants us uled—wants us to feel... vulnerable."A younger advisor stepped forward hesitantly toward an older selor and whispered urgently, "Do you think this could be about succession? The King’s health has beeioely..." The older selor shook his head slowly but offered no reply, his expression unreadable as he stared at the raised ptform bathed in fading light. As more murmurs rippled through the chamber—nobles speg wildly, advisors whispering warnings to each other, and even servants exging nervous ghe air grew heavier with anticipation. Every eye flickered toward the grand doors at the far end of the room, waiting for them to open and reveal whatever fate awaited them. Whatever had pelled His Majesty to summon nobles, advisors, and selors alike to this unusual pce at su unusual hour was bound to ge everything—and none among them could shake the feeling that they were standing on the precipice of something moal...or catastrophibsp;The low hum of chatter tio ripple through the dimly lit chamber, specution and unease growing with every passing moment. The nobles and advisors shifted unfortably, their whispers filling the air like the rustling of leaves before a storm. All eyes were fixed on the grand double doors at the far end of the room, their t frames looming ominously in the shadows. Then, with a deep creak that echoed through the chamber, the doors slowly swung open. The room fell silent. The Kiered, his presenanding and regal, as though he carried the weight of the entire kingdom on his broad shoulders. He was dressed in a magnifit kingly outfit—a deep crimson cloak trimmed with gold draped over his shoulders, its hem trailing behind him like flowing blood. His tunic was made of bck velvet embroidered with intricate golden patterns, and a heavy jeweled rested upon his chest. A golden circlet adorned his pale blond hair, which shimmered faintly in the fading light from the window above. But it was his eyes that drew every gaze—ruby red and pierg, like molteones burning with an iy that could see through souls. The King’s expression was unreadable, his face a mask of cold authority as he strode into the room. Behind him marched two rows of knights gleaming silver armor, their boots striking the floor in perfeison. Yet it wasn’t just the King’s entrahat sent shockwaves through the gathered nobles. Behind him walked another man. The collective gasp that erupted from the nobles was almost deafening. The man who followed the King looked exactly like him—his pale blond hair disheveled and streaked with grime, his ruby red eyes dulled but unmistakably identical to the King’s. He wore a tattered prison uniform of white and bck stripes, his body covered in scratches and bruises as though he had been dragged through hell itself. His hands were bound in heavy iron shackles that ked softly with every step he took. His head hung low, but even in his disheveled state, there was no mistaking it—the resembnce was uny. A noble he front gasped audibly. "By the gods! He looks just like His Majesty!" Another noble whispered urgently to her panion, "What is this madness? Is it some kind of trickery? A twin? An imposter?" "Impossible," an advisor muttered under his breath to another. "There has never beeion of a brother—or anyone who shares His Majesty’s likeness." A noblewoman clutched her fan tightly, her voice trembling as she whispered to those around her. "It’s as though he’s a shadow…a broken refle of our King." "Look at him," another noble excimed softly but urgently. "The same face…but ruined! What could this mean?" At the far end of the chamber, a cluster of older ood apart from the rest, their expressions grim and knowing. One of them leaoward another and muttered under his breath, "So it’s true then…he exists." The other nodded slowly, his voice barely audible. "I had heard whispers…but I hought we would see him here." "Why now?" another noble from their group added in a hushed tone. "What does His Majesty intend by bringing him before us?" Baear the ptform, a younger advisor turoward an elder selor with wide eyes. "Could this be some kind of test? Or…is this man truly ected to His Majesty?" The elder selor’s face darkened as he whispered back, "ected? He is more than ected. That man...is blood." "Perhaps it’s an omen," one older selor murmured grimly to himself. "Or worse...a curse." The whispers grew louder as more nobles leaoward one aheir voices rising in pitch as panic began to ripple through the chamber like cracks spreading across gss. A noble he window shook his head in disbelief and muttered to himself, "This is madness…absolute madness." "Silence!" barked one of the knights sharply, his voice cutting through the growing noise like a bde. The room fell quiet once more as the King asded the raised ptform at the far end of the chamber. His crimson cloak swept across the steps as he climbed them with deliberate grace, eaent exuding authority and trol. The disheveled man followed closely behind him, dragged forward by two knights who fnked him oher side. O the top of the ptform, the King turo face his audiehe golden light from the window above bathed him in an almost divine glow, while casting long shadows across his identical terpart, who stood slumped and bound behind him. The King raised a hand—a simple gesture that anded absolute attention. "My lords and dies," he began, his voice resonating through the chamber like thunder rolling over distant hills. It was deep and steady, carrying both power and finality. "You have been summoned here today not for ceremony or celebration but for truth—a truth long buried beh lies and shadows." His ruby eyes sed the room slowly, pierg through eaoble and advisor as though daring them to speak out of turn. The tension in the air alpable; even those who had been whispering moments ago now stood frozen in silenbsp;"You see before you," he tinued, gesturing toward the man who was kneeling on the floor beside him without turning to look at him, "a figure who bears my likeness—a man whose existence has been hidden from you all for reasons I shall now reveal." The nobles exged uneasy gnces but dared not speak out loud. "This man," the King decred sharply, his voice cutting through their thoughts like a bde slig through silk, "is ner to me—nor should he be to you." He paused for effect, letting his words hang heavy in the air before tinuing. "For he is my blood...my brother." Gasps erupted once more from every er of the room as shock rippled through those gathered like a tidal wave crashing against stone walls. "My brother," he repeated coldly, his gaze hardening as he turned briefly toward the disheveled man behind him. "A traitor to this ...and to this kingdom." Lady Aeliana Emberheart, seated he front with her usual poise, visibly stiffened. Her golden gown shimmered faintly in the dim light, but her regal posure faltered for the first time in years. Her ruby-red lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words came. Her hand instinctively tightened around the armrest of her chair, her knuckles whitening as her gaze darted between the King and his disheveled terpart. The resembnce was undeniable, and it shook even a woman of her unshakable stature. Her son, Prince Baelor, pced a steadying hand on her hand, though his own face betrayed his shock. His sisters—Princess Arabel, Princess Seraphina, and Princess Astrid—whispered furiously among themselves, their voices tinged with both fear and curiosity. Princess Lilith De Lyria Von Draken Mistglen De Zorathian, standing beside her eldest son, Prince Fenris, gasped audibly. Her bright blue eyes widened in shock as she clutched at the silver pendant around her neck—a family heirloom she often held when distressed. "This ot be," she whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling with disbelief. Her three sons exged uneasy gnces; even Fenris, known for his stoic demeanor, furrowed his brow deeply as if grappling with the weight of this revetion. Lady Lily Furia, standihe ter of the room, brought a gloved hand to her mouth in stunned silence. Her usually sharp tongue was rendered useless as she stared at the man in s with wide eyes. "By the gods," she finally murmured under her breath, audible only to those closest to her. "How could such a secret have bee from us?" Queen Daleyza’s rea was far more visceral. She rose abruptly from her seat, nearly knog oblet of wine oable beside her. Her medium brown hair seemed to glow in the dim light as she gred at the King with a mixture of fusion and anger. "Your Majesty," she excimed, her voice trembling but firm, "how long have you hidden this from us? From your people?" Lady Zephyra Skywhisper stood at the far end of the chamber with her three sons—Prince Galen, Prince Arid Prince Lu—clustered around her. Her usually serene expression was shattered as she stared at the man in s with wide-eyed disbelief. "He looks exactly like His Majesty," she whispered harshly to Galen, who nodded mutely. Aric leaned closer to his mother and muttered under his breath, "This is no ce…but what does it mean?" Lu remained silent, his jaw ched tightly as he observed the se unfolding before him.The murmurs grew louder as nobles exged frantic whispers.To be tinued...