The Crown We Break

Chapter Ten: Ashes And Ink

Chapter Ten: Ashes and Ink

The day of the vote dawned quiet and cold.

No banners. No horns. Just ink and silence.

Across the kingdom, citizens lined up in barns, in courtyards, in temples and schoolhouses. They stepped forward one by one and pressed their thumbprint beside a symbol:

🜁 — for The High Council
🜂 — for The People’s Assembly

Every mark sealed in wax. Every name recorded.

No king. No heralds.

Just people.

⸻

The Betrayal

As the ballots were being counted, Lyra burst into Caelan’s chamber.

“They’ve arrested him.”

Caelan blinked. “Who?”

“Sareth.”

He shot up. “What?!”

“The interim security bureau — not under our order. They claim evidence of sabotage. That he intended to destroy the process from within.”

“That’s a lie.”

“I know.”

Caelan paced. “Where is he?”

“In the palace dungeon.”

Caelan’s hands balled into fists.

“Someone’s trying to fracture the movement,” Lyra said. “To make him a scapegoat. To split the vote before it’s finalized.”

Caelan’s mind raced. Sareth’s arrest wouldn’t just shake confidence — it would delegitimize the entire transition.

“They’re trying to frame him as the shadow king,” Lyra added. “The one pulling my strings. Yours.”

He grabbed his coat. “Then I need to go to him.”

⸻

In Chains

Sareth sat in the cell, wrists chained to the wall, blood on his cheek.

He looked up as Caelan entered. “Took you long enough.”

Caelan fell to one knee beside him. “Who did this?”

Sareth smiled grimly. “You think I don’t know how power panics when it’s about to be passed on?”

Caelan shook his head. “This isn’t what we built.”

“It’s exactly what we built. Which means now you decide what kind of legacy we leave behind.”

“I’ll release you.”

“No. If you do it secretly, they’ll say I ran. If you do it openly, they’ll say you conspired.”

“Then what?”

“Finish the vote,” Sareth said softly. “And don’t protect me. Protect the process.”

Caelan looked at him, truly looked.

His brother.

A symbol.

A man.

And he nodded.

⸻

The Result

Three days later, Caelan stood before the capital square, scroll in hand.

Every village’s result had been tallied. No tampering. No magic. Just honesty.

“The votes are in,” he said, his voice even, but thick with weight.

He unrolled the parchment.

“In favor of the High Council: 43%.”

A breath passed through the crowd.

“In favor of the People’s Assembly: 56%.”

Silence.

Then, a wave of stunned murmurs. Some cheers. Some gasps. Some weeping.

Caelan raised his voice.

“The monarchy, even in its symbolic form, is hereby dissolved. Effective immediately, all executive power transfers to the People’s Assembly. The new constitution, as drafted and ratified, will be enacted by the first citizen session in one week.”

He lowered the scroll.

“And I… I resign.”

The crowd stood still.

Caelan looked out across them — his people, not his subjects.

“You don’t need a prince anymore.”

And with that, he stepped down from the dais.

⸻

Freedom

He walked the streets alone that night. No guards. No crown.

He stopped by a familiar door.

Darien opened it.

No words.

Just an embrace.

And in that moment, Caelan felt something he had never truly known.

Not duty.

Not guilt.

Not pressure.

But peace.

⸻

Beneath the Palace

Sareth was released that night.

Not by decree.

But by vote.

The first official act of the People’s Assembly.

When he emerged, he found Lyra waiting.

He raised an eyebrow. “Came to gloat?”

She smirked. “Came to offer you a job.”

He laughed. “What kind?”

“Watchdog. Devil’s advocate. Keeper of the spark.”

“Sounds like a demotion.”

“No,” she said. “It’s power that finally belongs to everyone.”

He looked up at the stars.

And for the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a ghost.