The aftermath of the Summer Tournament swept through Solaris Palace like a tide of whispers. Where once the servants had averted their eyes from Adam's crimson gaze, they now offered respectful nods. Where courtiers had once given him a wide berth in palace corridors, they now lingered, hoping for acknowledgment.
It was exactly as Adam had planned—and somehow disconcerting nonetheless.
He stood at the window of his private study, watching the palace grounds below where a group of noble children played at tournament games, imitating the displays they had witnessed days earlier. One small boy with white-powdered hair was pretending to weave crimson ribbons through the air, a crude mimicry of Adam's performance.
"They're calling you the Crimson Prodigy," Marcus said, entering without knocking—a familiarity he wouldn't have dared in Adam's previous life by this age. "Father says the court scribes have requested permission to document your demonstration for the royal archives."
Adam turned from the window, his expression carefully neutral despite the satisfaction he felt. "An exaggeration. It was a simple application of fundamental principles."
Marcus laughed, dropping into a chair with casual grace. "Simple? The Azurian delegation is still talking about it. Princess Lirienne asked if you would demonstrate again before they depart next week."
That was unexpected. In his original timeline, the Azurian princess had avoided him entirely during her visit.
[MINOR DIVERGENCE DETECTED]
[RELATIONSHIP OPPORTUNITY: PRINCESS LIRIENNE]
[POLITICAL ADVANTAGE POTENTIAL]
"Did she?" Adam replied, calculating rapidly. The princess was young—seven or eight at most—but an early connection could prove valuable. In his previous life, their proposed betrothal had fallen apart when his reputation grew too dark for the diplomatic alliance to survive. "I suppose I could arrange something suitable."
"Good," Marcus said, his green eyes bright with excitement. "Father already agreed. The day after tomorrow, in the East Garden." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I think they're considering a betrothal contract, you know. Lady Ember was discussing it with the Azurian ambassador."
Adam kept his expression neutral while his mind raced. So soon? In the original timeline, betrothal negotiations hadn't begun until he was fourteen—and by then, his increasingly troubling behavior had made the Azurians hesitant.
"Politics," Adam murmured, echoing his dismissive comment from before the tournament. But inwardly, he recognized the opportunity. Princess Lirienne had eventually become the Azure Tidespeaker, one of Marcus's most powerful allies in their final confrontation. Having her as an ally instead—or perhaps more—would represent a significant divergence from the original timeline.
"It's not just politics," Marcus insisted. "You should have heard how she described your performance. 'Transcendent control' and 'artistic precision' were the phrases she used." He grinned. "I think she's smitten."
"She's a child," Adam said dryly.
"So are we, technically," Marcus pointed out. "But alliances are formed early. And she's quite pretty, in an Azurian way."
Adam shrugged, affecting indifference. "We'll see what comes of it." He moved to his desk, where books on advanced spectrum theory were carefully arranged—a studious image cultivated for any who might enter his chambers. "Did you need something specific, Marcus?"
His brother's expression grew more serious. "Father wants to see us both. Something about adjustments to our training regimen in light of our tournament success."
This, too, was a divergence. In Adam's original timeline, his 'success' had been in secretly accessing forbidden knowledge while Marcus gained public acclaim. Their father had separated their education further after that, limiting Adam's access to practical combat training while focusing on control and restraint.
"When?" Adam asked.
"Now," Marcus replied. "He's waiting in the Strategy Chamber."
Adam nodded, closing the theoretical text he'd been pretending to study. As they left his chambers together, he noted how servants and guards reacted to their passing—equal respect for both princes, rather than the subtle preference for Marcus he had grown accustomed to in his first life.
Small changes, cascading toward larger ones.
The Strategy Chamber was located in the secure heart of the palace, its walls inscribed with protective wards and privacy enchantments. It was where the king met with his closest advisors to discuss matters of state security—not the usual location for a discussion about princes' education.
King Tiberius stood at the strategy table when they entered, his attention focused on a map of the Thirteen Kingdoms. Archmage Levian stood beside him, the two men engaged in quiet conversation that ceased abruptly when the princes arrived.
"Father," Marcus greeted him with a formal bow. Adam mirrored the gesture, noting the unusual tension in the room.
"My sons," the king acknowledged, his expression grave. "Thank you for coming promptly." He gestured to seats at the table. "We have matters of importance to discuss regarding your futures."
Adam took his seat with careful composure, though his mind was alert for any threat or opportunity. The presence of Archmage Levian suggested this was no ordinary adjustment to their education.
"Your performance in the tournament exceeded expectations," King Tiberius continued. "Both of you demonstrated skills beyond your years. This... presents certain opportunities, but also responsibilities."
"And questions," Archmage Levian added, his penetrating gaze settling on Adam. "Most specifically about the nature of your demonstration, Prince Adam."
Adam met the Archmage's gaze steadily. "I would be happy to explain my techniques, Lord Archmage."
"The transformation of Crimson energy into white light," Levian said. "That is not a standard application, nor one taught to students your age. Where did you learn it?"
Here was the danger in his calculated display. Adam had chosen to demonstrate a technique he had only mastered in his late teens during his original life—a deliberate show of prodigious talent, but one that now invited scrutiny.
"I didn't learn it," Adam replied carefully. "I derived it from first principles. If Crimson energy represents transformation, then it should be possible to transform it back to its primal state—the raw energy that exists before spectrum differentiation."
The king and Archmage exchanged glances.
"Theoretical texts on pre-spectrum energy are restricted to the Magister level," the king said. "You shouldn't have had access to such concepts."
Adam allowed a look of innocent confusion to cross his face. "I didn't realize. Magister Valen mentioned the concept of energy states in passing. I simply... extrapolated."
"Extrapolated," Levian repeated, something like amusement flickering in his eyes. "From a passing comment to a practical demonstration that most seventh-circle Arkmages would struggle to conceptualize, let alone execute."
Marcus looked between them, clearly sensing the underlying tension. "Is Adam in some kind of trouble?"
"No," the king said firmly. "Quite the opposite. Your brother's unique talents require unique training." He turned to Adam. "The traditional educational path may be... insufficient for your development."
[SIGNIFICANT DIVERGENCE DETECTED]
[EDUCATIONAL OPPORTUNITY IDENTIFIED]
[PROCEED WITH CAUTION]
"What do you propose, Father?" Adam asked, maintaining his composed demeanor despite his heightened interest.
"Specialized instruction," King Tiberius replied. "Divided between Masters of the Royal Academy and... occasional guidance from Archmage Levian himself."
Adam couldn't prevent his eyebrows from rising slightly in genuine surprise. In his previous life, he had been denied admission to the Royal Academy entirely, forced to study under closely supervised palace tutors while Marcus received the prestigious education.
"I've taken an interest in your development," Levian said, studying Adam with that unsettling intensity. "The Crossmark has historically indicated exceptional potential. I believe you may represent a unique research opportunity."
Research opportunity. The phrasing made Adam's skin crawl, though he kept his expression neutral. Was he to be a subject for study rather than a student?
"And Marcus?" Adam asked, deflecting attention from himself.
"Your brother will focus on combat mastery and leadership at the Academy," the king explained. "Your paths will naturally diverge according to your talents."
Just as they had in the original timeline—though for very different reasons.
"When would this new arrangement begin?" Adam inquired.
"After the Azurian delegation departs," King Tiberius said. "You will both have responsibilities during their remaining stay—diplomatic appearances, the demonstration Princess Lirienne requested, formal farewells."
"And one other matter," Archmage Levian added. "The Probability Nexus I gifted you, Prince Adam. I understand it... dissolved after use?"
Adam met the Archmage's knowing gaze steadily. "Yes, Lord Archmage. After showing me certain possibilities, it turned to dust."
"Fascinating," Levian murmured. "That suggests you received a true answer to whatever question you posed." His penetrating gaze seemed to pierce through Adam's careful facade. "I wonder what you asked it."
Before Adam could formulate a suitable response, the king cut in. "That's enough speculation for now. We have practical matters to arrange." He turned to both princes. "You are dismissed. We will speak further tomorrow about the details of your new educational paths."
As they left the Strategy Chamber, Marcus looked at Adam with newfound curiosity. "What was that about a Probability Nexus? And what question did you ask it?"
Adam considered his brother for a moment. In his previous life, secrets and lies had built an insurmountable wall between them. Perhaps a strategic truth might serve better this time.
"The Archmage gave me a Violet artifact at the equinox celebration," he explained. "It shows glimpses of possible futures. I asked it whether I could change the path others expect me to walk."
It wasn't the exact question he had posed, but close enough—and revealing enough—to seem like genuine confidence.
Marcus was silent for several steps. "Because of the Crossmark, you mean. The old superstitions."
"Yes."
"And what answer did you receive? Before it turned to dust?"
Adam looked ahead, his voice carefully neutral. "I'm not entirely sure. But I intend to find out."
As they parted ways in the grand corridor, Adam felt the weight of Fate Perception pressing against his consciousness. For a brief moment, he saw two Marcuses walking away—one becoming the hero who would eventually execute him, the other walking an entirely different path that led somewhere Adam couldn't yet discern.
The divergence was growing. The question was whether he could control its direction—and its ultimate destination.
[FATE PERCEPTION STRENGTHENING]
[TIMELINE SIGNIFICANTLY ALTERED]
[CAUTION: UNPREDICTABILITY INCREASING]