“You want the throne?”
The Regent looked confused.
“Take it.”
The Prince stared at his mother.
The Queen continued.
“You want the crown? The palace? The council? Take every stone upstairs.”
She pointed toward the King.
“Let him go.”
The Regent smiled slowly.
“You think I waited twelve years for jewelry?”
The Queen’s face hardened.
“No.”
“Good.”
He looked toward the gate.
“I waited for what your husband found on the western voyage.”
The King closed his eye.
The Regent continued.
“The old fleet was real.”
The Prince whispered, “Impossible.”
The Regent laughed.
“That word has protected powerful secrets for centuries.”
He explained.
Twelve years earlier, the King sailed west not merely to inspect trade routes.
He had discovered old navigational tablets beneath the palace archives pointing toward a submerged harbor built before the current kingdom existed.
Inside were preserved warships.
Not wooden ships.
Something older.
Bronze-hulled vessels constructed using techniques no modern shipwright understood.
Weapons designed to ignite oil across water.
Siege engines capable of throwing stone farther than any contemporary army.
A forgotten arsenal.
The King found it.
Then decided it should remain forgotten.
The Regent disagreed.
“So you betrayed the fleet.”
The Prince’s voice shook.
The Regent smiled.
“I preserved opportunity.”
“You murdered hundreds.”
“I removed men who would bury power because they feared responsibility.”
The King laughed weakly.
“You always did rename greed.”
The Regent slapped him.
The Prince lunged.
The Captain restrained him.
“Not yet.”
The Regent pointed at the Prince.
“The key.”
The Prince looked toward the Queen.
She looked at her husband.
The King shook his head again.
The Prince made his choice.
He stepped forward.
The Queen whispered, “No.”
The Prince kept moving.
The Regent smiled.
“Wise.”
The Prince opened his fist.
The black iron key lay on his palm.
He approached the mechanism.
“Where?”
The Regent pointed.
A narrow socket sat beneath a bronze wheel.
The Prince inserted the key.
The Regent’s men relaxed slightly.
The Prince looked at his father.
The King stared back.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For the kingdom.
The Prince turned the key.
Nothing.
The Regent’s smile vanished.
“Again.”
The Prince twisted harder.
Still nothing.
The Keeper suddenly laughed.
Everyone turned.
The Regent glared.
“What?”
The Keeper’s laughter grew.
“You never knew.”
The Regent shoved the King aside and moved toward him.
“Knew what?”
The old Keeper smiled.
“The key was never enough.”
The Regent froze.
The Keeper pointed toward the golden lion stamped on the mechanism.