Like Mother, Like Son

Prince Kylian sat at the grand mahogany desk in his quarters, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room. Outside, the kingdom of Onalith was shrouded in darkness, the distant lights of Astoria, the capital city, twinkling like stars on the horizon. But Kylian's focus was entirely on the parchment before him, his father's neat handwriting detailing the complex interplay of the kingdom's economy and its political alliances.

The young prince, barely twenty summers, had been groomed from a young age to take on the responsibilities that would one day be his. His education was extensive, covering everything from military strategy to diplomatic protocol. Tonight, however, it was the economics and politics of Onalith that occupied his mind. Something he had been behind because of the flurry of Bednis that has caught his eye.

King Edward had sent him a series of documents earlier in the week, along with a reminder of the importance of understanding these matters thoroughly.

"The strength of Onalith lies not just in its armies, but in the wisdom with which we govern," his father had written. "Our people depend on the crown for stability, and that stability is rooted in sound economic policies and wise political decisions."

Kylian read through the documents carefully, absorbing the intricacies of trade agreements with neighboring kingdoms, the taxation policies that ensured the royal coffers remained full without overburdening the common folk, and the delicate balance of alliances that his father maintained with the surrounding kingdoms. He found himself particularly engrossed in a treaty with the distant kingdom of Belgrave, where the trade of rare minerals had been pivotal in bolstering Onalith's economy.

As he made notes on the possible renegotiation of the treaty, a soft knock interrupted his thoughts. Kylian glanced up, slightly annoyed at the disturbance but curious about who would seek him out at this hour.

"Who is it?" he called, his voice steady.

The door creaked open, revealing a young maid from his mother's quarters. It was telling by the color of her dress. She stepped inside, bowing deeply before addressing him, her voice a respectful whisper.

"Your Highness, dinner is ready in the Queen's quarters. Her Majesty expects you at the table."

Kylian set down his quill, nodding slightly. The maid's presence was a gentle reminder that, despite the pressing matters of state, he had familial duties to attend to as well. And he knew damn well why his mother wanted to talk.

"Inform my mother that I will be there shortly," he replied.

The maid curtsied and withdrew, leaving Kylian alone once more. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he collected his thoughts. The documents before him were important, but so was maintaining the bond with his mother, Queen Melina.

Overbearing as she could be, she had always been a steadying influence in his life, her guidance would be the perfect complement to his father's more rigorous approach if only she wasn't so set in her ways. She led with her brains, teaching Kylian that was more important when it came to governance.

Rising from his desk, Kylian stretched to relieve the tension in his shoulders. He glanced in the mirror, catching sight of his reflection—tall and broad-shouldered, with the strong jawline that marked the royal lineage of Onalith. His blonde hair, slightly disheveled from running his hands through it during his study, framed his sharp, bright eyes. The intensity in his gaze, a mirror of his father's, was tempered by the warmth inherited from his mother.

Satisfied with his appearance, Kylian left his quarters, moving through the palace corridors with a familiarity born of years spent within these walls. The stone passages, lined with tapestries depicting Onalith's storied history, felt both imposing and comforting—a reminder of the legacy he was destined to uphold.

The moment he approached the Queen's quarters, the halls grew quieter, the sounds of the bustling palace fading into the background. A servant stationed by the door straightened and bowed as Kylian neared.

"Your Highness, it is wonderful to have you here," the servant announced.

Kylian nodded, waiting as the servant opened the door to the Queen's chambers. Beyond the threshold, the warmth of his mother's quarters enveloped him, a stark contrast to the cool, stone corridors of the palace. The Queen's quarters were a sanctuary, their soft lighting and gentle fragrance of lavender creating an atmosphere of peace and comfort.

"Prince Kylian," the servant announced as he stepped inside.

Queen Milana was seated at a low table in the center of the room, a recent gift from Chinese merchants who had come to Onalith bearing treasures from the Far East. The table was set with an array of dishes, each more exquisite than the last. The rich aromas of roasted meats, spiced vegetables, and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the scent of the candles that illuminated the room.

"Kylian, my dear," his mother greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting the candlelight as they crinkled at the corners. She gestured to the cushion beside her. "Come, sit. I hope you're hungry."

Kylian sank into one of the plush pillow seats, the fabric cool and soft against his skin. He bowed his head briefly in respect before speaking, his tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "It has been years since I was last invited to your quarters, Mother," he remarked, glancing around the familiar room that had once been a refuge during his childhood. His voice lowered slightly as he added, "Is there a problem?"

Queen Melina poured wine into his goblet with a graceful hand, her movements deliberate and calm. She met his gaze with a small smile, her expression carefully composed. "Can't a mother simply wish to see her son?"

Kylian's lips twitched in a half-smile, but his eyes remained sharp, observant. "You only refer to me as your 'son' and not the Crown Prince when you have an issue with me," he said, leaning back slightly, his posture still respectful but undeniably more relaxed. "Is this about the boy I saved from the guillotine?"

At the mention of the boy, Queen Melina snapped her fingers at one of the servants who stood by the door, ever attentive. The servant quickly stepped forward, carrying a tray laden with delicacies, and began to serve the food. The air in the room grew heavier with the rich aromas of the feast, but the underlying tension between mother and son was noticeable.

"Why did you save him, Kylian?" Queen Melina asked, her voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern.

Kylian took a sip of his wine before replying, his tone measured. "Maybe I did it because the boy was innocent."

His mother's eyes narrowed slightly as she considered his words. "This is not the first time a traitor to the crown has been put to death," she said, her voice even. "You have never interfered with these matters before. Why now?"

Kylian met her gaze directly, unflinching. "Like I said, Mother, the boy was innocent." He paused, leaning forward slightly, his expression earnest. "Wouldn't you want me to be a just king?"

Queen Melina set down her goblet with a quiet clink, her gaze hardening. "You can be just when the throne is completely yours," she replied, her tone firm, almost a command.

Kylian scoffed softly, shaking his head as he leaned back once more. "You cannot still be worried about my position, Mother. Father's mistress and her child are abroad, far from the court. Besides, I am an Alpha—"

His mother cut him off sharply, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. "The boy is underage. He could very well be an Alpha too." Her eyes bore into his, the weight of her words heavy with the implications of the throne's fragile balance. "Your title does not cement it completely. There is no room for mistakes, Kylian. If that woman's child somehow gains an Alpha title and shifts the court to his favor because you continue to do foolish things like favoring an Omega, all of my sacrifices would have been for nothing."

Kylian's expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening. He knew the truth in her concerns, the precariousness of his position despite his birthright. The court was a place of whispers and schemes, where power could shift in an instant, where loyalty was often bought rather than earned. But still, the idea that his mother would place so much emphasis on the boy's potential Alpha status—a boy who had no claims, no standing, a boy who was born to an Omega—felt like an affront to everything he believed a ruler should be.

"Mother," he began, his voice quiet but carrying the weight of his conviction, "if I am to be a king worthy of this throne, I must be able to rule with fairness and justice. That boy… he had no one to defend him. He was not a threat to who I am."

It was a lie. It was a terrible lie. And it was best his mother bought it. Because if she knew why he saved the boy, the boys head would be decapitated and placed on a stick.

It was why he hadn't showed up to the Bedni quarters yet. His mother was definitely already questioning his intentions. He did not intend to prove her right.

"You don't get to decide that," Queen Melina's voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp and unyielding. Her eyes, usually so soft when she looked at her son, were hard as steel now. "I'll do that for you. Because my sacrifice will not be for nothing."

Kylian scoffed, the sound filled with bitter disbelief. "Sacrifice?" he repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "What have you sacrificed apart from carrying me in your womb? A battle you almost lost, if I recall correctly."

The slap came swift and fierce, the sound echoing in the stillness of the chamber. Kylian's head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging where her hand had connected. He turned back slowly to face her, a hint of shock flickering in his eyes before it was quickly buried beneath a mask of cold indifference.

"Everything I do," Queen Melina hissed, her voice trembling with emotion, "I do for you."

Kylian held her gaze, the tension between them thick enough to suffocate. But before he could speak, she continued, her tone now more composed, though the fire in her eyes remained. "The boy you saved—he will stay with me for the time being. I will not have him distracting you at such an important point in your life."

His mother's words struck him like a punch to the gut, but he kept his face impassive, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing his anger. "So, you intend to keep him as your prisoner?"

Queen Melina's lips pressed into a thin line. "The moment you implied the boy should be a Bedni, I knew your intentions were not pure. You wanted to elevate him from the son of a traitor, to place him in a position where he could influence you, distract you."

Kylian's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he reached for the food the servant had placed before him. He picked up a morsel, examining it briefly before taking a deliberate bite, chewing slowly as he mulled over his next words.

Swallowing the food, he stood up, brushing imaginary crumbs from his fingers. "It has been wonderful talking to you, Mother," he said, his voice tinged with mockery. "But the prince has princely duties to attend to."

Queen Melina scoffed, a sound of disdain, but Kylian was already turning towards the door. He paused just before leaving, his hand resting on the polished wood as he glanced back at her, his eyes cold.

"I'm not the only one with impure intentions, am I?" he said quietly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge. "Wasn't the Favier family the one you were supposed to marry into before Father claimed you?"

His mother's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and something that almost resembled pain. "You are ugly when you are vile," she spat, her words dripping with venom.

A slow, humorless smile spread across Kylian's face as he met her gaze. "Everyone says I look like you," he replied, his tone calm, almost gentle. He held her stare for a moment longer before he turned and left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.