Hearts at War (AlanxJeff) VI

1

Once upon a time, there was a prosperous kingdom known for its vast green fields, crystal-clear rivers that flowed into a beautiful blue sea, and a happy, hardworking population. King Aldric ruled with justice and wisdom, and under his leadership, the kingdom of Eldoria flourished. The inhabitants lived in harmony, celebrating festivals and abundant harvests, and the kingdom was renowned for its hospitality and generosity.

However, peace would not last. In the shadows, the royal advisor, Mordred, coveted the throne. With cunning and deceit, he convinced several nobles that King Aldric planned to strip them of their lands. Mordred whispered lies into the ears of the nobles, sowing seeds of distrust and greed. The betrayal grew in silence, and one night, Mordred and his followers attacked the castle.

King Aldric was murdered, and the kingdom fell into chaos. The loyalists of the king clashed with the traitors, plunging the kingdom into a civil war that lasted decades. The battles were fierce, and the losses, incalculable. Fertile lands turned into battlefields, and the rivers ran red. Villages were razed, and families were divided, with brothers fighting on opposite sides.

Finally, exhausted and without hope of victory, the leaders of both sides decided to split the kingdom in two. Thus were born North Eldoria, ruled by Aldric's descendants, and South Eldoria, under the command of Mordred's followers. The division brought a temporary respite, but not peace. The borders became constant conflict zones, and each kingdom blamed the other for the endless war.

The inhabitants of the North grew up hating those of the South, and vice versa. Stories of betrayal and revenge were passed down from generation to generation, fueling resentment. Children played at being warriors, dreaming of avenging the injustices of their ancestors.

Jeff

Everyone dies. It is an undeniable truth that unites us all, no matter who we are or where we come from. But is dying really bad? I don't think so. I like to imagine that, upon dying, one moves to a place where worries and pain no longer exist, a refuge of peace and serenity.

The real challenge is not for those who leave, but for those who stay.

My father was also the king, and that made me see him more as a monarch than as a father. His gazes were always harsh and scrutinizing, as if every gesture of mine was being harshly evaluated. But in those rare moments when he thought no one was watching, his expression softened, and his eyes filled with an inexplicable warmth that enveloped my heart.

I was his third son, the only one from his second wife and his only omega child. It was clear that, because of this, I had no chance of aspiring to the throne. My destiny seemed to be that of a consort in some distant kingdom or perhaps a count in our own.

Everyone says he adored my mother. Unlike his first marriage, politically arranged in his childhood, this one had been for love. And they say that love was what killed her. I never understood why they said that. She died from complications after my birth, as if implying that I was to blame, that I killed her. Perhaps that's why my father... didn't love me as much.

My father had two sons from his first marriage: Kael and Charlie, both strong and brave alphas who cared for me as their most precious treasure. In the vast and cold palace, they were the only ones who truly seemed to love me.

Years after my mother's death, the royal concubine ascended to the throne as queen, and her son Winner, who was the same age as Charlie, became third in line to the throne. The queen was an enigmatic figure. Her voice was always sweet and her smile constant, but that smile never reached her eyes, leaving a chilling sensation that froze the soul. My brothers acted like bristling cats whenever they saw her, and the situation only worsened with our father's recent death.