The day had been long, and Simone was exhausted. The academy's lessons were rigorous, but the real strain came from the constant balancing act of maintaining his facade. He had learned long ago that keeping his true identity and abilities hidden wasn't just about discretion—it was a full-time job. Still, he found some comfort in the simplicity of being treated like a commoner, of being unnoticed.
But as evening descended on the academy, something shifted. Simone was walking back to his dormitory when he was unexpectedly intercepted in the hallway. It was his siblings—Dorian, Helena, Felix, and Astrid.
Dorian was the first to speak, his voice rough with annoyance.
"Simone," he said, his eyes flashing with impatience, "we need to talk."
Simone stopped, inwardly groaning. He had hoped to avoid this conversation, but he knew it was inevitable. His siblings had never been shy about their curiosity, especially when it came to matters of the family. They'd probably been talking behind his back for days, wondering about him, questioning his choices. And now, they'd finally cornered him.
Helena, with her usual playful demeanor, looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously, Simone," she said, twirling a lock of her wind-blown hair, "you're not like the rest of us. Why did you choose to abstain from revealing your power when you awakened? It's a right, you know. You're a Valaris, one of us. So why hide it?"
Simone met her gaze, his expression neutral. He had expected this question. The royal family was expected to show their power to the public, to flaunt it as a symbol of their status. But Simone had done none of that. His decision to stay silent on the matter had perplexed them all.
"Why not?" Simone replied, his voice calm, a small shrug accompanying the words. "It doesn't seem necessary to announce it."
His answer was dismissive, almost as though it didn't matter at all, but he knew it wasn't that simple. His siblings were not convinced. Felix, the quiet one, stood a little off to the side, his arms crossed as he studied Simone with a cautious gaze.
"You don't understand," Felix said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of concern. "You're a prince. You're supposed to claim your right to power, to take your place among us. Why throw that away? Why hide who you are?"
Simone's gaze flickered briefly to Felix, then to the others. They didn't get it. They didn't understand that he wasn't interested in power. Not anymore. Not the way they were.
He wasn't like them. They were driven by ambition, by the need to prove themselves to the world and to each other. He had no such need.
"Because I don't want it," Simone said softly, but with undeniable certainty. "Power is a burden. I'd rather not carry it. The throne… it's not for me."
Dorian's eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting in frustration. "You're a prince of Valaris! How can you say that?" He stepped closer, his voice rising slightly. "We all fight for the throne. We all have our reasons, our dreams. You don't get to just walk away from it."
Simone's lips tightened. "I'm not walking away," he replied, his tone growing firmer, more resolute. "I'm just choosing not to be part of it."
He looked away for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ground as he collected his thoughts. When he spoke again, it was quieter, almost wistful.
"I've seen what it does to people. To our family. To you all," he continued. "The competition, the games, the constant struggle to be the best… It's not worth it. Not for me. I want peace, not power."
Helena tilted her head, studying him with curiosity, though a flicker of understanding passed through her expression. She wasn't as competitive as Dorian, nor as absorbed in the fight for the throne. "I get it," she said, a small, almost sad smile tugging at her lips. "But hiding from the world isn't going to bring you peace, Simone. It's going to isolate you."
"Maybe I'd rather be isolated," Simone replied, his gaze flickering back to meet hers. "At least then, I won't have to worry about hurting anyone."
There was a long pause. The silence between them was thick with unspoken words, but none of his siblings could bring themselves to push him further. They knew how stubborn he could be, how resolute in his choices. He had always been like that, even before the Awakening, when he had been overweight and shy, constantly hiding in the background. They had never understood him, but now it felt like they understood him even less.
Astrid, ever the playful one, broke the tension by crossing her arms and giving Simone a mischievous grin. "You know," she said, "it's kind of funny. You're a prince, and yet you're trying so hard to be a commoner. It's almost like you think you can escape what you are."
Simone's lips twitched in a half-smile, but he said nothing.
Dorian scoffed. "You're still a prince, Simone. Don't forget that."
"I haven't," Simone replied softly, meeting Dorian's gaze. "I just don't need to prove it to anyone."
The conversation shifted awkwardly. It was clear that none of them truly understood Simone's choices, but they weren't going to force him to explain further. Each sibling had their own path to walk, and Simone's was just different. In a way, it was freeing, though it also made him feel a little more alone. His siblings, despite their attempts to reach him, could never fully comprehend the reasons behind his decision.
Simone turned toward his dormitory, ready to retreat into the quiet solitude that was now his only solace. The academy was a world of power and competition, and he had chosen to keep his place within it as low-key as possible. As his siblings watched him walk away, they knew there was something deeper, something more complex within him than they could ever hope to understand.
Simone had chosen his path. And it wasn't one that would bring him the throne. But that was the way he wanted it.
As the night descended, Simone once again slipped into the shadows, leaving behind the questions of his siblings and the expectations of his birthright. For now, his focus remained on the future he had chosen: to live his life, as he saw fit, in the quiet corners of the academy, hidden from the eyes of the world.