**WARNING!** Heavy use of language and violence is present. Some scenes may not be suitable for younger readers.
This book, "Regal Rift," is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidenta...
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Prince Lyxander and Rhys left Cassiel in the prince's chamber as they headed towards the royal office of the king.
The corridors of the palace were quiet, the only sound being the soft rustle of their footsteps on the marble floor.
Lyxander was unusually silent throughout their journey, his usual lively demeanor replaced by a brooding stillness.
Noticing the prince's uncharacteristic silence, Rhys felt a pang of curiosity.
"Is something troubling you, Your Highness?" he asked, glancing sideways at Lyxander.
Lyxander sighed heavily at the question, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"My heart," he said cryptically, "has been shattered by someone else."
Rhys feigned concern, masking his true feelings with a sympathetic nod.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Your Highness."
As they continued down the hallway, Rhys's thoughts were far from the prince's heartbreak.
His mind was occupied with plans of vengeance, calculating each step with cold precision.
He had long harbored ambitions and resentments that were now beginning to crystallize into a clear path forward.
When they finally reached the royal office, Lyxander entered, leaving Rhys to wait at the door.
Rhys leaned against the wall, his mind whirring with dark intentions.
He replayed Lyxander's cryptic words and found a twisted satisfaction in the prince's misery.
Rhys's feigned concern had served its purpose, masking his true motives and keeping his own plans concealed.
As he stood there, Rhys pondered who could have caused the prince such grief.
He did not realize that Cassiel was the one who had broken Lyxander's heart. Nor did he know that Cassiel was drawn to him, not Lyxander.
The tangled web of emotions and unspoken affections remained hidden from his awareness, clouded by his own schemes and ambitions as he waited, plotting his next move, at the door of the royal office.
Prince Lyxander took a deep breath as he entered the royal office.
Pushing the heavy oak doors open, he stepped inside, immediately feeling the weight of the room's grandeur.
He adjusted his attire, ensuring he looked every bit the prince he was expected to be.
"Ah, Lyxander," King Eirian greeted, his voice warm yet authoritative.
"Come in, come in."
Lyxander entered fully, bowing respectfully to the assembled figures.
"Father. King Roland. Princess Gabrielle," he said, his voice steady.
