The grand court chamber was filled with the usual bustle—nobles and dignitaries, all murmuring in their seats, their faces adorned with politeness as they awaited the arrival of the Imperial family. The Emperor, seated at the head of the room, gave a curt nod to his children, signaling the start of the meeting. Yet, despite the formality of the occasion, there was an unease that permeated the air, a tension that no one could quite shake off.
Simone, the Crown Prince, sat silently at the far end of the room, his presence felt like a shadow over the proceedings. His once-shy demeanor had been replaced by an unnerving calmness, a stillness that unsettled everyone who entered his sphere. His eyes—deep and fathomless—shifted from one person to the next, never missing a single detail. It was as if he saw through them, heard their thoughts, and understood their deepest fears.
The older siblings—Adrian, Livia, Cassian, Selene—sat uneasily at their positions, exchanging brief glances. They knew Simone could hear everything, feel everything. His power of Darkness, though mysterious, was far more than just destructive. It was a tool of perception, one that allowed him to read people like open books. And it terrified them.
Simone's decisions as Crown Prince had been nothing short of flawless, his reforms and policies transforming the empire into a booming beacon of prosperity. Under his guidance, crime rates had plummeted, trade routes flourished, and the common people began to view the empire with newfound respect. Yet, despite the empire's growth, his siblings couldn't escape the unnerving presence that had settled over the court meetings whenever Simone was in the room.
Adrian, the 1st Prince, had always been the shining star in the family. His charisma, his power of Light, his natural leadership—he had always assumed the throne was his to take. But now, with Simone in power, Adrian couldn't help but feel a chill whenever their eyes met. Simone's silence spoke volumes. His decisions had been right—always right—and there was no way to argue with the cold, hard facts.
Today was no different. Simone had sat through the meeting without so much as a word, his eyes scanning the room. His siblings, too, had been quiet. None of them dared to challenge him. Each of them feared what would happen if they did.
As the discussions continued, a noble rose to present a matter regarding trade routes to the southern territories, a point that seemed ripe for debate. Adrian, ever the confident one, leaned forward, ready to make his suggestion.
"I propose a new regulation to the trade routes," Adrian said, his voice firm, but there was a hint of uncertainty beneath it. "The current system is flawed and inefficient. We should divert resources to—"
Simone cut him off before Adrian could finish. His voice was calm, emotionless, and yet it carried an undeniable weight.
"Actually, the data shows the current system has increased trade efficiency by 13% over the last six months," Simone interjected, his gaze never leaving Adrian's. "Diverting resources would likely result in a 4% loss in the first quarter alone, with further complications arising from logistical delays. Here." He slid a parchment across the table, the paper filled with intricate graphs and projections. "This is a detailed analysis of the potential outcomes."
Adrian faltered, his face flushed. He had expected some resistance, but Simone's words—backed by cold, irrefutable numbers—took him by surprise. He had no way to argue with the data. Simone's intellect, his ability to foresee the consequences of every decision, was unmatched. And it wasn't just the numbers. It was the way Simone could read everyone in the room. The way he could predict the slightest movement in a conversation and exploit it to his advantage.
Livia, who had been silent up until now, cleared her throat. "Simone, while I agree the numbers are impressive, don't you think we should consider alternative methods for—"
She, too, was cut off. Simone turned his gaze to her, and for a moment, there was silence. He could hear her thoughts—her doubts, her frustrations—and he knew exactly how to address them.
"The alternative methods you propose would lead to a 5% increase in overall costs, with a 3% increase in public discontent," Simone said, his voice unwavering. "And that's assuming your projections are accurate, which they're not."
Livia stiffened, her pride bruised, but she couldn't deny the truth in Simone's words. His analysis was always right. He had a terrifying understanding of everything—politics, economics, human nature. The once-naive, overweight prince they had all underestimated had become a master strategist, one they could no longer outwit or ignore.
Cassian, the 2nd Prince, leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed. His mind raced as he considered Simone's cold logic. He had always been the one to forge weapons, the one to plan attacks and defenses. But Simone? He was a weapon in and of himself. A weapon of intellect, of strategy. Cassian had never been more acutely aware of his own shortcomings.
"I'm not saying we should disregard your methods, Simone," Cassian said, his voice a little hesitant. "But you've been making decisions without consulting us. We should all have a say in the future of the empire."
Simone's gaze flicked to him, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "And yet, the empire flourishes. I wonder why that is."
There was a moment of quiet as Simone's words hung in the air. His siblings knew it was true. Simone's decisions were the reason the empire had seen such success. He wasn't just guessing. He wasn't relying on instinct. He had data—years of it, compiled and analyzed in ways none of them could comprehend.
Simone's eyes shifted to the rest of the court, the nobles who had been watching the exchange in silence. His power, the darkness that clung to him, seemed to grow heavier with every word. There was a tension in the room now, as if the very air was being sucked out.
"Shall we continue?" Simone asked, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
The nobles, fearful of his presence, nodded quickly. The tension was palpable, but Simone remained unfazed, his eyes scanning the room with detached interest.
Simone could hear everything—every thought, every whisper. He knew what his siblings thought of him, how they feared him, how they couldn't understand the depths of his power. But he didn't care. Their opinions didn't matter. He had one goal, and that was to make the empire stronger, to ensure that he ruled with an iron fist, a mind sharper than any blade.
When the meeting finally adjourned, Simone stood, his black cloak flowing behind him like a shadow. His siblings remained seated, their faces drawn tight with apprehension. The silence that followed his departure was deafening.
Simone's cold, unfeeling presence had left them all shaken. They had come to realize something they had all tried to deny for so long:
They had underestimated him.